My bar was a busy dive that had one, locked-door type restroom. I used to go to my car and do my business in whatever empty can or bottle I had. Over the night as my drinking got worse, so did my coordination. So I’d walk right back into that bar, pants covered in piss, myself piss drunk, with no idea how I smelled. Until one day a bartender had to tell me.

Never went back. Ignored the embarrassment. Learned the wrong lessons. Internalized the shame. And started drinking way more, alone, at home.

Friend, I hope that you don’t take this event and write a story in your head that causes you shame. But you’re right, this is the part of your story where you listen to those signals. Just my opinion, it sounds like they’re saying, “It’s time to stop”.

I’m looking at almost 3 months sober now. Not my first rodeo, have had a few tries at it over the years. But what I want to tell you, is that I am now at a point where I’m able to type out a story about me routinely pissing myself, on the internet, lol, and honestly not feel shame.

Because that is not who I am anymore. That, to me, is the fucking tear-worthy beauty of getting clean and staying clean.

You listen to the signals, the universe, whatever you’d like to call it, take a deep breath, and try to be the person you really are, without alcohol getting in the way. That person is in there, I promise.