One evening three weeks ago, I made a life-changing decision that would've been inconceivable to me that very same morning. I decided to quit drinking for life.
The next night, I had my last drinking hurrah: my last glass of red wine with pasta at my fave Italian restaurant, followed by my last six-pack ever at home cranking my favorite headbanging jams. It was the victory lap of my life's drinking games—a conscious, intentional, relatively graceful exit. Done!
The next day, I started over. I meditated on a future life undistorted by alcohol and my well-lubricated past. I was simultaneously relieved that I hadn't faced worse consequences before changing my habits and terrified that my life would be one long, boring crucible.