730 days alcohol free for me today & my health, wealth, quality of life/love/connection/joy are the strongest they've ever been and keep getting better. Once I removed the blinders of alcohol abuse fueling major depression and obesity, l've been able to race onward and upward to bigger, better and just *nice* things in life. đĽšđĽ°
My moods stabilized along with my thyroid and other health markers. In total l've lost +/- 318 pounds since my first day sober and that has been it's own challenging journey as well but always so so worth it.
Beyond blessed, grateful and thankful for myself, my family and my chosen family. Thank you for everyone who's supported me or offered encouragement of any kind. đđđ
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I actually started on November 19, 2020, but I've missed 8 days in total so the milestone got pushed forward a little
There was a ton of fanfare for the one-year milestone, a fancy animation played, the owl changed color, a link popped up that would let me share it on social media, and I got a special pin next to my name letting people know I was part of the 365 Club. Nothing special for two years though, just the normal streak increase.
The last time I missed a day was June 9th, so this is actually my 24th perfect week in a row, the counter just stops at 4 for some reason. This is my second longest streak overall; my first lasted for one day shy of 28 weeks from late October 2021 to mid-May 2022. If I don't miss any days for the rest of the year, I'll go into 2023 with a new record!
This is the longest I've ever committed to anything besides school, and I'm really proud of myself for not getting burned out and giving up. I'm still far from fluent, but I'm much more adept at Spanish than I've ever been! I've taken probably a half dozen Spanish classes over the years in elementary school, middle school, high school, and college, but none of them ever took us beyond the basics because the American education system is a failure. "I don't need to be relearning numbers, colors, and days of the week at university! I'm paying a lot of money to be here, I ALREADY KNOW ALL THIS STUFF!"
a/n: i personally hate this piece so much, it hits a little too close to home but i wrote it decently and its still cringy gah dayum & there's no part 2 because some things are better off this way
You were in a relationship with Mingi for 2 years now and today was your anniversary with him. Lately, you could never get to go out with him on your monthly anniversaries since he was always busy with work which you understood and didn't mind about. So, you were exhilarated that you finally got the chance to celebrate a special day with him today.
You got dressed pretty early and drove to his house because you knew that he would be late or forget that you both had a date planned out since he hasn't texted you all day long.
While you were driving to his place, you turned up the volume on the radio and drove silently. The memories of when you first met Mingi flooded into your mind as you drove by the familiar street.
You fell in love with Mingi the second you saw him at a distant friend's birthday party. He was avoiding people at the party so it wasn't that hard for you to start a small talk with him. That night was definitely one of the best nights you've had, Mingi didn't even hesitate talking to you, in fact even when everyone had left, you both were still chatting away without realising it was late night.
You let out a small laugh as you drove into the street that Mingi lives at when you thought about the day he confessed to you. You had been talking to him everyday for a few months now and there was a misunderstanding between the two of you which resulted in a fight. Mingi being the gentleman he is, came to your doorstep late at night apologising and also, confessed his feelings for you.
And ever since, things have been going amazing between the two of you. Or so, you thought.
You reached the place and parked your car in front of his porch, turning off the engine before you walked to his doorstep. You felt nervous, as if it was your first date with him. Your hand reached the doorbell and clicked on it.
"Coming!"
You took a few steps back, knowing that his tall figure would accidentally bump into you by accident if he was about to walk out. Within seconds, he opened the door and came out. The smell of his cologne immediately flooded your surroundings, making you flinch a little, followed by a loud sneeze.
He was in the middle of locking his house door when his head turned to your direction, "Everything alright?"
You nodded, rubbing your nose. You managed to steal a glance at him, he was clad in a pair of light blue jeans along with an oversized white shirt, a denim jacket over it. You, on the other hand, wore jeans as well and a flowy blouse with your hair let down.
"You look pretty," He commented, making you realise he was done locking his door. You smiled at his compliment and returned one to him, "You look handsome as well."
"Where do you wanna go?" He asked, holding your hand as you both started walking. Everytime Mingi touched you, it would make you feel all warm and fuzzy inside. This time, you didn't feel anything at all, not coming off as a surprise to you anymore.
"I don't know, I told you I didn't mind any place." You replied back.
"It's okay, it's better if you choose a place. I don't want to argue with you later about this." He said.
You looked at him with furrowed brows, wondering what he meant. Was he really going to argue with you before your date even started? That too, on your anniversary?
It took him a while to realise what came out of his mouth as he looked at you and tried to come up with an excuse. "I mean, I just don't want you to feel unhappy about it later."
You were obviously hurt from what he said earlier but you didn't want to show it to him, knowing that he would try to convince you to not feel this way. You hummed at his statement and looked at him, "Let's just go to McDonalds, I guess."
"McDonalds?"
"Didn't you tell me to choose a place?" You questioned him, starting to feel tired with his questions. You managed to catch him sigh and roll his eyes before he turned away, clenching his jaw.
Your relationship with Mingi was falling apart, that was for sure.
The first year together, everything was perfect and you had almost no arguments at all. You both went on dates a lot and took things up a notch. It felt like paradise whenever you were with him.
However in your second year, you felt like things started to lose its authenticity slowly. You began to argue with Mingi over the pettiest things and so did he. You've cried more during arguments with him than out of stress that now if you argued with him, you felt so numb and tired.
The relationship was getting toxic day by day.
"What's your problem now?" He finally asked, leaving a scar on your heart again with his blunt question.
"What's my problem?" You quivered, tears were starting to form in your eyes. You let go of Mingi's hand and asked him, "Why are you always arguing with me, Mingi?"
The look of fury turned into sorrow on Mingi's face as he heard your voice crack when you asked him that question. He knew that you had reached your point, you couldn't hold it in anymore. He had hurt your feelings to that point.
Yet, he didn't show any sign of pity towards you when he questioned you back. "Why are you like this? We've been fighting almost everyday."
You were on the verge of crying as tears collected in your eyes. "Why am I like this? Are you really asking me why I am like this? I've been trying my best to save our relationship every time it has been falling apart and you're asking me why am I like this? When are you going to realise that you have been screwing up our relationship, Mingi?"
He flinched at the mention of his name. You had never used his name before when you were together unless you were pissed or sometimes, jokingly. You had never used it when you were arguing as well. So it took him by surprise that his name left your mouth that day.
"BabyâŚ"
Even him using pet names on you made you shiver, you knew it wasn't genuine anymore. He had stopped using pet names for weeks now, you didn't want to hear anything anymore. You looked at him in the eyes, hoping for him to tell you that it's okay and we would be alright. But he didn't.
Even though he put in more effort into your relationship compared to you, he was also the one hurting you the most that it was starting to drive you crazy. You loved him, you loved him with your whole heart and you didn't want to let him go. But in order for you to be alright again, you had to let him go.
Which resulted in you saying those words that you never expected yourself to say when you started dating Mingi.
"I think it's best for us to break up."
You both remained silent for a while, until you started sobbing and looked down. You hated this so much. You didn't want to show him that you were weak and vulnerable. You were at your lowest and you knew you couldn't hold it in anymore.
Mingi's hand reached to touch yours but you jerked away. "Please don't."
He immediately took his hand away and stood still in front of you. Seeing that he was quiet, you knew he was speechless and was thinking of what to say. You didn't want to look at him as well knowing that you would start to cry harder.
At the same time, you wanted him to ask you to stay. You wanted him to tell you that he was willing to fix things between the two of you. You wanted him to tell you that he loves you and he doesn't want you to leave him.
But he did nothing.
You didn't want to leave him, heck, it was stupid of you to even initiate the break up. but, you were not wrong. Mingi didn't even bother begging you to speak or wipe away your tears as he would.
You didn't want to assume things, perhaps he was hiding his pain as well as you did. Maybe it was going to take him some time to realise how fucked up the relationship was.
"Okay." He breathed out, a croak following along as he looked away.
You looked up at him, "Okay?"
"Yeah, let's break up." He said, making eye contact with you as you watched a tear roll down his cheek. You wanted to hold his cheek, wipe his tears and say that it was okay. You wanted to kiss him like there was no tomorrow.
But you didn't.
Instead, you started to cry. You covered your face with your hands as you cried in front of him. You didn't want to leave him, you knew very well you were still wrapped around his finger. You wanted to call him everyday, you wanted to text him good night and I love you everyday. You wanted to give him kisses every time he was sad after watching movies. But that wasn't going to happen.
You felt a pair of warm hands engulf you into a hug, hot tears dropping onto your blouse and Mingi held you tight for one last time. You dropped your hands and hugged him back, crying on his chest that you were starting to lose air.
You knew very well if you stayed in that position for a little longer, you would tell him that you were sorry and you would tell him to forget what you said. So, you pulled away from his hug. Mingi's eyes were red and puffy, he sniffed and looked up at the sky, holding back his tears.
You kissed him back for a brief second before he pulled away. His hand remained intact on your cheek, "It's okay Y/N, you don't have to apologise. I understand where you're coming from."
You couldn't help it. It broke you to see him in pain and you didn't want to see him in that situation ever. So, you opened your mouth to speak but Mingi stopped you by asking, "Can I kiss you one last time?"
Your eyes were glazed, you didn't know what to say. This was really it. This was happening for real and you had to accept it. You gave a subtle nod which led him to kiss you out of nowhere. You didn't move, you stood still as his kiss made you feel warm and content for one last time.
You looked down as he said that, shutting your eyes. You took a deep breath, telling yourself that it was okay and heartbreaks are normal. His hands took yours and he kissed them, before he talked to you.
"Just promise me that you won't give up on love because of what happened between us."
You had no words, you didn't even know what to say to him. You remained quiet for a while. He let go of your hands, "I love you Y/N, I always have and I always will. I'm sorry for hurting you all this while and not owning up to my mistake."
"I'm sorry too Mingi," Your voice croaked, you weren't able to tell the former cause it hurt too much in you to say it back.
"JustâŚ" He paused, looking hesitant to continue his sentence. You could tell he wasn't going to continue his sentence knowing your answer, "Text me when you get back home."
After he said that, he walked back inside his house, leaving you alone at his porch - a crying mess. You got into your car and cried for a good 10 minutes. You wanted him to come out and kiss you, tell you to come inside and convince you to stay.
But you were both too egoistic for that. He knew you wouldn't bother his words, nor would you if he asked you to give him another chance. You looked up at his window, you saw his shadow through his sheer curtains and you could make out that he was crying as well.
No matter how much you loved him, you had to end your relationship before everything felt forced and fake. Before everything was merely a show. It was better to give your all in the relationship instead of giving only half or nothing.
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âHow was your journey here? Did the escorting staff treat you good?â There was supposed to be some kind of empathy in the tone of the Officer, but they had been on shift since 7am and it was now almost 10pm. Vause just nodded, she understood what it was like to be tired. She felt exhausted herself. After spending hours crammed in what can only be described as a mobile metal casket travelling from Manhatten to the federal prison on the edge of the state line, all she wanted was to knock out. To forget she was even back in this shit hole. âSign here, here, and here. Then weâll get you in to the nurse, get you some clothes and down to the wing--âÂ
âShe knows the drill.â Another, older Officer pitched in, making Vause look up from the paperwork.Â
âHow are you not retired yet, Hunt?âÂ
âYoga. Keeps the mind, body, and soul young, Vause. You should give it a try.â.Â
She scoffed, rolled her eyes and then scribbled her name on the last dotted line. She saw the doctor. Traded in her stuff for orange. Then glanced around the reception area, the one she wonât see again for 2 years. 24 months. 730 days... It was only 730 days.Â
DAY SEVEN
Honey Brown. 1h. 6 s, 2 c. 23a. The note was stuffed in her pocket from the laundry workers and Vause sat down on her bed, holding it with both hands and staring at the writing. It had been seven days, seven days of those ringing fucking alarms, of torches shining through the glass waking her up every other goddamn hour. Just one hit, just to sleep for a night properly. She looked up and across at the picture on the wall. The one of her wife and her jaw tensed as she crushed the piece of paper in her fist. Then she glanced at the calander. 723 days.Â
DAY THIRTY ONE
âAre you fucking kidding me?! Iâm not moving!â Vause protested, shaking her head as she backed into the corner of her cell. âYou canât move me onto B wing, thatâs Brooklyn fucking territory, you KNOW what theyâll do to a Harlem girl, come on!â She yelled as the Officerâs, padded up in full riot gear spilled into her cell. âFine!â Vause pushed her sleeves up. âYou want a fucking fight, assholes? Letâs go!â She screamed, running at the shield and rolling over the top of it, kicking one guard in the face and headbutting another as she landed between all of them. Fists flew, connecting with whatever they could until there was a winding thud in her back and all the air was forced out of her lungs as she was sandwiched up against the wall by the shielded screw.Â
âTake her down to the fucking block.â.
The bang of the cell door closing was the start of the silence, of a seven day stretch with nothing but a metal bed frame, a shitty pillow and these four walls. 699 days.
DAY FIFTY THREEÂ
The segregation was tough, but it was over and it did its job. She didnât get moved to B, instead she went to F wing with the rest of the Harlem lot. Sheâd made a few connections, a few... Friends... Though, she didnât trust anyone. She knew from past experience that this place was a dog eat dog world. Everyone was out for themselves. The moment you get in someoneâs way, or you become a burden to them you become nothing. âEh, Vause, youâre on the visitation list you know,â one of those tender connections strolled into her cell.Â
âWhat? No Iâm not, itâs too far out for my wife to come. Donât fuck with me man, Iâll roll your head off,â she threatened loosely with a suck of her lips and a shake of her head.Â
âNah, nah, man, you on there, go check it-- thousand sticks, V.â That was a bit of saying around the wind. Thousand sticks, meaning an a thousand cigarette bet. Vauseâs eyebrow raised and, with a heavy sigh, she rolled off the top bunk, throwing the rubber band ball back up onto it and walked out the cell to the notice board.Â
âWell shit...â For the first time in fifty three days, Vause smiled. This created quite the rally of cheers from her âfriendsâ, who jokingly pushed her around a little in front of the board. âFuck off everyone,â she groaned though the little smile on her face made it hard to take it seriously.Â
Later that day, walking through those doors and seeing her wifeâs face for the first time in months, despite it being through bulletproof glass, her heart skipped a beat. Then it sunk, though she hid that part because this was hard enough already. But, 677 days seemed like a lifetime.Â
DAY ONE HUNDRED AND SEVENÂ
Her head hung over the letter. She noticed the little things in it that werenât words. The way some of the letters were uncharacteristically slanted. The few red droplets at the bottom of the letter. It was the first of two birthday letters she was going to recieve in these cold four walls, and she could tell Riley had been drinking when she wrote it. Vause gasped for a breath of air when she realized she hadnât taken one in a while as a few of her tears joined those small red marks at the bottom of the page. âIâm sorry...â She whispers as her knees come up into her chest and she hugs the letter into her chest, falling back against the wall. 623 days...
DAY TWO HUNDRED AND EIGHTY NINE
âWhat do you mean âwhat is thisâ?! I ainât ever seen that shit in my life!â Vause argued, hands in the air as the searching Officers stood before her asking where she had got the mobile phone from that they had just found in her pillow. âUnlock it, I wonât know any of the contacts in there. Itâs not mine.â She wasnât even lying, but of course they didnât believe that.Â
âWhat so someone just put a mobile phone into your pillow?âÂ
âThereâs weirder fucking shit happening in this shithole!â Vause snapped back as she felt her breathing get heavier and heavier with anger as she thought about who the fuck had set her up. Was it the women that had tried to bring her into the drug ring that she turned down? Was it one of the women who wanted her to be their prison wife that sheâd told to go fuck a cactus? Was it a fucking Officer?Â
âYou know phone finds mean two weeks in the block, Vause.âÂ
âITâS NOT MINE! I CANâT GO TO THE FUCKING BLOCK. CâMON, DANIELS, YOU KNOW I ADMIT TO SHIT WHEN I GET CAUGHT-- THIS AINâT MINE! I HAVE A VISIT ON FRIDAY, ITâS MY ANNIVERSARY, IâM NOT MISSING IT!â She punched the wall, and instantly regretted doing that as she felt her knuckles crack. âFUCK!â One of the Officers grabbed onto her arm and she instantly tensed up and pushed him away from her. âFUCK. OFF. Donât fucking grab me! Iâll fucking walk!â She spat, looking between them both before kicking the chair across the room causing it to smash and break against the far wall before storming out of the cell. Anything that wasnât bolted to the ground on route from her cell to the segregation block was kicked or thrown in rage. âWHOEVER SET ME UP, IâM HAVING YOUR FUCKING HEADS!â She yelled out as she was escorted off the wing and down the stairs.
Once again, the heavy cell door slammed shut and once again she was left with nothing but the knowledge that there was only 441 days left... Only.
DAY TWO HUNDRED AND NINETY THREE
She had fallen onto her knees in front of the steel door, hands balled into fists pressing against the cold metal. Her cheeks were lined with streams of tears, head hanging as she thought about Riley sat in the visitation booth waiting for her. She had been screaming for them to let her out, to let her go, that sheâd do anything, for the past four hours. The visit session would have been well over by now. It was their anniversary, the first one theyâd not seen each other one and she felt like someone was ripping her heart out. Her body violently shook as she thought about who the fuck planted that phone, her nails digging into her palms and drawing blood. She couldnât even write to Riley to tell her not to come. She couldnât even warn her... What if it was an asshole Officer up there? What did they tell her?
Iâm sorry... Iâm sorry...Â
437 days.
DAY THREE HUNDRED AND FIFTEEN
Vause was still shaking as she stood in the shower and watched the water mix with the blood that washed off from her knuckles. She focused on controlling her breathing, her teeth gritted together as she scrubbed the marks and evidence off her body. It had taken her no more than three days out of confinement to figure out who had planted the phone in her cell, and under the cover of most of the wing being out on the yard, she had paid them a visit and left them in a ball on their cells floor with a bloody face and a few cracked ribs. If it wasnât for the one person she actually trusted being on lookout and seeing her start to loose control, and so intervening and pulling her away, she probably would have killed her. She made her miss her anniversary. She was lucky to still be alive. Vause stepped out of the shower, dried off, and pulled her clothes back on before wrapping her knuckles in toilet paper and then putting gloves on. Luckily, the prison was fucking freezing and it was the middle of October. It wasnât exactly suspect to be walking around in a coat and gloves; in fact it was more suspect to not be. She wondered whether the guards knew anyway, whether they supported what she did, because she was never so much as questioned about what happened to that woman... Perhaps her luck was turning. It was about time. 415 days...
DAY FOUR HUNDRED
âCongrats, Vause. Youâre going up a level, pack your stuff, youâre shipping out to inner state,â the Officer switched her light on and Vause initally groaned before registering what he had said, bolting up on the bed.Â
âWait-- Iâm going back to the city?âÂ
âYep. Good behaviour lessened your security level, you get to move on and we get a bigger asshole in to take your spot. They donât know how easy they got it in state,â he rolled his eyes as he threw a few bags onto her bed. âCâmon, transport goes in an hour... Unless youâd stay, of course.â
âYeah, fuck that,â Vause scoffed, throwing the covers back and jumping straight up onto her feet. âIâll be ready in ten-- wait, my wife is--â
âAlready told youâve moved. Ten it is. Better get packing.â.Â
She was going back to the city. Closer to her wife. Less restrictions. No glass between them at visits... Vause smiled. 330 days wasnât sounding so bad... And they werenât, until...
DAY SIX HUNDRED AND TEN
Leaving surgery behind... Switching to therapy... Moving away from the city. Vauseâs head was spinning as she paced around her cell, going over everything they had spoken about in the visit. It was something that they had joked about before; running away from NYC the moment she was released, going and hiding away from the world and becoming one with nature. But, when Riley said she had given up her position at the hosptial... When she said she was going to switch to therapy. It just didnât seem like Vause was in on the full story. She could tell Riley was drinking more than just a nightcap these days, but she didnât exactly have a leg to stand on in speaking out against it. She was in fucking prison... Everything just seemed so-- out of control. Everything felt like-- she was in the eye of a hurricane. Then a note slid underneath her door. Cocoa puff bowl. 20stick. 2-12. Her breath caught in the back of her throat. That would make her stop pacing. Stop overthinking this. She was almost out, anyway, right? She was almost done. There was only... 120 days.
DAY SIX HUNDRED AND FIFTY TWO
She must have been convincing when she had spoken about Riley moving down to their new town before she was released, because the blonde eventually got on board with it. Vause had come to terms with it all over the past few months, she realised that New York was her home but now it was the place where she would end up either incarcerated for the rest of her life; or dead. They had to get away from the Apple. Clearly, they both needed a fresh start, and if Riley could get away from the city before she could? Vause knew she wasnât happy here anymore, in New York. Of course, she wanted her to stay so she could keep getting the regular visits but it wasnât worth it... Vause didnât want to let go of her today, and she didnât until the final warning from the Officers. âIÂ love you... Stay safe for me, Iâll stay out of trouble for you, baby...â She wasnât supposed to, but Vause kissed her wife before reluctantly letting go, hands going in the air as she looked to the Officer with a little smirk. She walked backwards out of the visit hall, eyes staying softly on her wife, taking in every last detail of her features as if it was the first time she was looking at her; or the last... Well, it was the last time for a while. Vause blew Riley a kiss with a smile before finally turning around. It was going to be okay... There was only 78 days left. 2 and a half months. It was going to be okay. 78 days.
DAY SIX HUNDRED AND SIXTY NINEÂ
âRelease day, Vause! Up and at em!â The sudden light made her pupils dilate and the early morning hours and breeze from the door made the statement even more confusing that it already was. She wasnât due out yet. There was still more time to go. She blinked her vision into focus and saw that it was one of the asshole Officers and she groaned, rolling her eyes and falling back onto her bed.Â
âThatâs not fucking funny, Georgeman,â she muttered.
âWhat do you mean funny? Youâre getting out, here--â he threw the clipboard at her which made her groan, sigh and sit up. She was going to lose her shit with this guy one of these days. Asshole. Vause pushed on her glasses and froze for a second. He wasnât fucking around. There was her name, her prison number, and in big red letters RELEASE.Â
âWell fuck-- that-- came around quick...â Vause swallowed, playing along, just waiting for the sike to come but then he threw the bags into the room and continued down the corridor to unlock the next release. She scrambled up to her feet and stuck her head out, half expecting him again to be stood out there laughing. But, he wasnât, he was carrying on with his job... She was-- well, fuck, she was getting out early.
61 days early.Â
That was 5 days ago.Â
TODAY
Now she was down in Santa Ysabel, she was back with her wife. But it was strange... She still felt like she should be counting down the days. She still heard the sound of boots patrolling and torches switching on and off when she closed her eyes. She was still listening out for alarms. Everyone that passed her on the street a little too close almost got pushed back onto their ass. She had to control herself though. This wasnât prison anymore. She was free. This was her home now... Riley was her home. It didnât matter where they were. But, it was hard to readjust... And she couldnât fucking sleep. Maybe sheâll sleep better in 56 days... When she was supposed to be out... Maybe sheâll stop dreaming about feds kicking down their front door and dragging her away from her wife again then... She canât lose her again. She wonât.
The number of days Iâve been writing Outlander fanfiction. Today two years have passed since I started writing parts of what would become my first long fic.Â
It has been an amazing journey. I have learned so much about myself and others while doing it. Â Thank you to everyone that has taken the time to read and comment on my works. May it be another day, month or year of writing Iâll always treasure you all deeply.
âAnd now these three remain: faith, hope, and love; but the greatest of these is love.â Â
