Working my way through day number eleven of sobriety. It was the goal for my real self to show up here in Tampa, unencumbered by alcohol bullshit, and I have achieved that. I've still got a couple more days before I head back home, and I am questioning myself.
I'm thinking of taking my time around the Gulf Coast heading home, maybe landing in Gulf Port or Biloxi for the night, and quite frankly I don't trust myself to do it.
I don't know where my breaking point is, or wether I even have one anymore. I suspect in the back of my mind I might. Achieving something major like beating an addiction requires motivation, and I'll be heading back to a life that has none.
This will be the biggest test of this project as I travel alone back into the real world, through the land of bars and honky tonks. Do I have the strength and commitment to make this real for the rest of my life.
As I sit here on Shelby's couch on a Sunday afternoon, craving a drink real bad, the answer to that question is, I have no fucking idea, but I may not.