Today, April 6, 2019, I have been sober for three years. Ultimately, it's just another day. But anniversaries can be a time to reflect. And for the last few days I've been doing a lot of that. Three years ago, I had lost everything, even my clothes. I was sitting in a Houston jail on suicide watch, coming off yet another multi-day drug binge. It was one of the lowest moments of my life because for the first time, I felt truly alone. I had burned every bridge and was left in a city where I knew no one. And nothing is more terrifying than being alone. If someone had opened the slat on my cell door and described the life I have today in recovery, I wouldn't have believed them. It didn't seem possible. My problems seemed to immense to surmount. But I love my life today. And I love being sober. If this can happen to a godless heathen like me, it can happen to anyone.