The pain of remembering

Sometimes the hardest part isn’t where I am now—it’s remembering where I once was.

I had a good life. I was married for 13 years. I had a family, stability, and things I probably didn’t appreciate enough at the time. Then drugs, alcohol, infidelity, and a lot of terrible decisions slowly destroyed what I had.

My marriage ended in 2020, and honestly, my life has never been the same since.

I don’t blame anyone else for the choices I made. I own them. But that doesn’t make the loss hurt any less.

There are days when I look back and realize just how much I squandered, and that realization hurts like hell. I can’t go back and undo any of it. All I can do is live with the consequences, try to stay sober, and somehow figure out what the hell comes next.

I miss the life I had. I miss who I was before I destroyed so much of it. And sometimes I’m still grieving the person I could have been.