A moment in time.

It was a warm Sunday evening, I was on the front porch of a friends place listening to music and drinking beer. This is what we did, we drank and entertained ourselves. This particular Sunday was fun, we‘d had a good day. Truth be told, we were living a pretty nice life. None of us were rich men, but we knew we were really lucky. We were living in a quiet town on the Victorian coastline, Victoria is one of the 6 states and two territories of Australia. Although the day had been a successful journey into the depths of reckless abandon, something was eating away at me, a guilt maybe? I was throwing it all away! Pissing it up against the wall so to speak.

That night and for quite a few months previous there was an unease about my mortality and the fragility of life itself. I had lost an uncle to alcoholism, my cousin had passed away far too early from cancer and a sibling had survived another cancer scare of their own. A friend had lost his life on a night out in a foreign country in a moment of pure madness, the loss of those around me was hanging weighing heavy on my mind. It was a cumulative loss.

I wasn’t at all the most heavily affected by any of the individual tragedies and events I have just listed. Far from it in fact. But the losses were adding up and perhaps had opened a line of questioning I hadn’t subjected myself to previously. The question was on repeat in the back of my brain, perhaps it was in my heart? Or maybe it was from whatever one of my organs was in the most pain?

The question was “is this it?” I asked the question aloud to the friends I was with and begun to express my dilemma albeit to limited efficacy. One friend replied “Oh god, not this again” I didn’t recall the last time the question was asked. Perhaps I had had a few more than I should have on that occasion. It was in that moment and with that reply, I knew it was over. I had reached a decision and I wasn't going to let the status quo be the balance of my remaining existence.

I left the porch that evening after an hour or so more of drinking and listening to music. I left with a beer in my hand, but this beer was different it was tasting better than ever before, it was going down differently than the others? I was savoring it. Why? Because this beer was my last!

I began to reflect on all I had done and survived in the guise of “a good time”... benders without sleep for days, cocaine and whisky for breakfast, Accidents that landed me in the hospital more than once. Relationships and friendships that were gone forever because of my actions! But still, I smiled. It was over. The fight within myself was done. The journey to better had begun and I was walking like I was ten ft tall.

I could go on and on in a lot more detail about the days of partying and the regrets, the circumstances I had found myself In time and time again. I could go on about the cause of my behaviors, a deep look at the dysfunctional family life, working in a night club from 15 years of age, a sense of always being alone, and the scary levels of detachment I felt towards those who were meant to be significant in my life. But that's not what’s this is about.

This is about the moment. The moment things changed. The split second I realized it was all over and I could build something more! Something better! The moment I realized that I was lucky. Lucky beyond what I can even fathom. Odds and probability from the data of my existence would spell out the slim chance that I was going to ever get to the decision I had just made.

I wanted to share this moment in time so that others out there can reach to the same moment in time in their life! There’s more! There is always more! be brave and go get what is yours. A life that is worth living, one that others won't ever be lucky enough to live. Most importantly, do it now!

I have been sober for 2 years, 10 months, and 16 days as I write this note to whoever is reading it.

Love Rory.