Living in a Camper

Nine years ago if someone had said that if I don't clean up my act I'll end up living in a camper somewhere down by the river I probably would have agreed with them. I was a broken mess of a person. I had kinda given up on the possibly that my life would be anything more then the shit pile it had become. 

Nine years ago if someone said that I would uproot my family and take them on the road traveling in a RV for three and a half months I would have said they were full of shit. Not just that I would have a family, but that I would just pick up and go somewhere, anywhere. 

For me addiction created a sense of extreme panic and anxiety. I struggled with answering the phone, having confrontations that were anything other then extreme anger and fear of simple things like being away from my apartment for the night. I hated not knowing what my plan was and when where and how I would be able to drink enough to keep from being sick. I used to sleep in the floor of the tennis club on days I had to open the office so I could get drunk and not have to worry about being late to work. Life was really hard and really unpleasant. 

Today I am in Cortonwood Arizona in a dingy run down Trailer park and life is pretty good. We were in Flagstaff the last two nights and enjoyed the cool weather, but we were all ready for some nice desert warmth. 

We tried to stay in Sedona but that is a hard town to drive a 50 foot motorhome through while looking for RV parks. Our plans are to head back there tomorrow in the car and celebrate my 9 year anniversary. 

Life happens and I am so happy that now I am part of life instead of drunk on the sidewalk watching it pass me by. 

Cheers.