There's a certain kind of calm that comes with the first few weeks of sobriety. Like the heat has been taken out of my blood, like the fire his been quenched a little, like the fight is less intense. Feeling calmer and balanced and efficient - not so much focused solely on getting drunk and recovering before getting drunk again.
It's made a lot more easy with the default setting of antabuse. The drug works by turning any alcohol in my system or even on my skin into acetylene and formaldehyde, - like nail polish remover or paint thinners - which would force me to feel nausea and vomit and all the rest. So dissolving a tablet each morning as I rise and drinking that first glass of water is literally "a day at a time".
So I am sober, and thinking things through, but I'm also aware of how I am whistling in the dark. Walking blindly along feeling as though I will not drink today because I have had my antabuse, but at the same time incredibly humble and aware that I am not going this thing alone.
Today was 38C and we were sticky and walking in shadows and leaning to catch the breeze.
Just now, the thunder rumbles and the girls have curled in my bed and we watch the blinking sky as the thunderstorm rolls in.
And it's a full moon.