Written by Katie Allcorn

33 days into my sobriety, I cried into my tuna sandwich. I was crying because with all the mercury and discarded by-catch, I didn’t believe in eating tuna but here I was, eating it anyway. I was crying because I felt ill-equipped to be a mother. I was crying because work stress wouldn’t give me a minute. But I was mostly crying because I was no longer comfortably numb, and I was feeling all the feels that could be felt.

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