The Day I Realized I Wasn’t Broken Anymore
And the quiet truth about healing
Dear Son,
There wasn’t a parade. No big “aha” moment.
Just a regular day when I realized:
I wasn’t broken anymore.
I wasn’t angry for no reason.
I wasn’t waiting for someone to leave.
I wasn’t ashamed of who I was or what I’d done.
Healing didn’t show up loud.
It crept in—like spring after a long winter.
One small shift at a time.
And when it did, I realized something even bigger:
I was no longer just surviving.
I was living.
If I had a son, I’d want him to hear this…
Healing takes time.
Sometimes longer than you’d like.
But if you stay the course, it arrives.
And when it does, it gives you space to grow—
to imagine a life where you don’t just avoid drinking,
you build something beautiful.
A life you’re proud of.
A life that fits.
A life that’s yours.
My worst day these days is a million times better than my best day before I stopped drinking.
With love,
—Fred (GeezerWise)
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—Fred [GeezerWise]