The Journey to the 12th Floor – The Quitter’s Life is Good

12 Floors.

I was thinking bout this today. Today is my day 1,199. If I don’t fuck it up, tomorrow will be 1,200.

After we greet our brothers on the Train, and welcome them to the Hall, we have a sort of shift as to how we perceive our next milestones.

Floors. Like we’re riding an elevator. Tomorrow (God willing) I’ll get to start wandering around the 12th Floor.

The first 100 are fuckin’ tough. A battle, indeed. We get on the Train and party hard with midgets, goats, and lots of beers.

After your month is up, you’re off the train and wandering around this big department store on the first floor. It’s not that nice. It’s pretty crowded. The place stinks, and they sell cheap shit. The lines are long at the checkout, its dim-lit, and everyone is fuckin grumpy.

You check out on Day 199 and get on the elevator.

Second Floor. A little nicer. It doesn’t smell so bad. There are less people here, and they seem to be getting into a better mood. Less fights. More openness. Better quality stuff.

Third Floor. Fewer people on this floor daily, but around 365, you see a bunch of old faces, and you talk of old times. There are parties up on this floor, but not as many as you’d like.

Fourth Floor. They have A/C up here! Definitely cleaner. The floors are buffed, the walls don’t have stains, and the windows open up to fresh mountain air. The only problem, is you don’t see so many of your old friends anymore.

Fifth Floor. They are selling drinks at the bar called, “Half Commas” They’re good. They’re worth the price.

Sixth Floor. Fine Dining and soft music. It’s quiet, like a library, and you only see your really close friends up here.

Seventh Floor. This one is like the Air & Space Museum, as you circle the globe for the second time nicotine free.

Eighth Floor. More room to walk up here, but it’s empty. It echoes. The access you gained to be up here is like being a member at a country club. Life is good.

Ninth Floor. You spend your time up here counting backwards. It’s fucked up. You don’t really know what’s going on up on 9, because all you’re thinking about is ‘What’s Upstairs’?

Tenth Floor. CommaTown! This is a fucking party. Much like the Train, but the hookers are classier. You spend your time on this floor very reminiscent. You see lots of old friends, but usually just for a day. Your back gets sore from so many people slapping it, but you really, really, are appreciative of all those who have come before, and a new-found respect washes over you for the guys who started this all. Thank you Gentlemen. You saved my life.

Eleventh Floor. New life. Things are different and you fucking like it! Craves are few and far between. Looking back at the floors underneath me, I am so grateful for this journey, I will NEVER go through it again. I’m getting more involved than I have been lately. Meeting the ‘New Guys’ a little more. Offering more help. Life is good.

Tomorrow I’ll get on that elevator one more time and hear the bell ‘ding’. I’m not sure what’s up there yet, but the journey is well worth it.

New guys – There is one thing that I have done consistently in the journey I’ve taken to get here. One thing, and one thing only.

I posted Roll, Every Damn Day.

Almost everything in my life has changed in the past three + years. Dad died. Mom died. My family blew up. Wife finished school. Quit her job. Quit my job. Got a new job. You get the point.

Life happens. There is no excuse to cave. None.

Thank you everyone for being here. You all make a difference, so keep showing up.

I’ve said it before – Quitting is not a Spectator Sport. Participation is Required!

Stay Strong.

Stay Quit.

-Nolaq

NOTE: This piece written by KillTheCan.org forum member Nolaq