Sobriety has helped him deal with the highs and lows of being single.

I am single. I am not always happy, joyous, and free. It can be lonely. Divorce is painful. I don’t feel happy, joyous, and free.

Today, I am 18 months sober—miraculous proof that God can do for me what I couldn’t do for myself. I have also been depressed for about a month. I have been officially single for about half the time I’ve been sober. My wife moved out the same day I went on a bender, two weeks before I went to rehab, which is also two weeks before my current sobriety date.

The White Book has a line comparing who has it easier: marrieds or singles. In my case, being single was much easier, at least at first. I no longer had to consider anyone else in making recovery decisions. If I needed to make a call, I made a call. If I needed to attend an extra meeting, I went to it. I had focus. No more roller coaster rides. The ride was called “living with a spouse whom I had hurt deeply and who, at any moment, might turn into a pain-activated version of herself who expressed that pain in ways I did not know how to deal with.”

I tell my sponsees, “That’s the upside of being single.” There is also a downside as I see it. There is spiritual growth in living with someone I hurt so deeply and finding a way to not make it about me. I never learned how to do that. It’s harder to learn to do that when I’m living alone—not impossible, just harder. It’s the essential recovery ingredient. Of course, God is good at finding the right way to challenge me. Learning how to live for others while living alone has been a blessing, and sometimes I do still miss my ex-wife.

P.S. My pitbull named Pumba wanted to comment on the fact that I do not live alone, and she is always happy to receive more of my undivided attention, especially if it’s in the form of food, play, or walking.

P.P.S. Between writing and editing this article, my depression has lifted. Right before the deadline for this article! That means I am happy, joyous, and single, one day at a time.