You're in the right place.

I keep hearing that line, as though it's supposed to make me feel better.

I've been sober for one month now, the longest foray into clear-headed living I've attempted since my first year of University approximately ten years ago. Though, "attempted" makes it seem like a cordial effort on my part and I can't quite say this is as noble as it might appear. I hate this. Some days I want to tear off my skin just to escape my body. The anxiety, the depression, the disgruntled, discontented delirium; the isolation, the self-induced separation from society as I know it...

"You're in the right place."

Go fuck yourself.

I also get, "You're right where you should be," "Keep coming back," and, "It does get better," repeated ad naseum by smiling goons coming out of the shadows of church basements throughout the city. Yeah, no, this isn't a cult at all.

You're in the right place: This is in reference to Alcoholics Anonymous in general. Or Cocaine Anonymous, or Narcotics Anonymous, depending on the night and my mood. This is their attempt at reassuring me that, indeed, I am an alcoholic-drug addict and this is the best place to seek salvation.

You're right where you should be: This is actually an emotionally-based mapping system. People come up to you and ask how you're doing, but don't attempt to give them the standard,"Good, how're you?" 'cause they don't buy it. So, I tell them about the skin-ripping off thing and they generally laugh, clap me on the back and give me the line. Generally followed by:

It does get better: Self explanatory, and a promise. People only a year into their sobriety claim that their lives are so much better than they ever thought possible just by committing to the program, getting a sponsor and working the steps. I'm a month sober, three weeks of which were spent in a treatment facility, and I seem to remember cavorting around with friends being a bit more fun then bad coffee, uncomfortable seating and Jesus on the cross staring at my judgmentally from the basement of a church I've never been to. But what do I know, I'm a fucking addict.

Keep coming back: This is said several times throughout meetings, it's one of the slogans of AA and it's chanted in unison at the end of every meeting (after a prayer, us all holding hands, pumping them up and down in time -- Keep! (pump) Coming! (pump) Back! (pump) -- like some sort of perverse game of Red Rover or a bad collegiate cheer). The idea, of course, being that if you keep coming to meetings, life will improve.

And so, a month in and I have a home group, a sponsor, a growing phone list of members who assure me I can call at any time, after-care meetings through my treatment facility twice a week and an addictions therapist. I'm also not having very much fun.

This blog will track my life as it "does get better" or "not". I'll write about my past, rehab, the inner workings of AA and a life of sobriety. Sounds like a fucking blast, right? Bookmark this one for all your entertainment needs.

Updates to come when I'm bored. (read: all the time).