866 Days Alcohol-Free: Still Healing, Still Real

By Malcolm Pannell | FaceThyFear.com | FTFNow.net

Tagline: FaceThyFear: You can’t put a shark on a leash.

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“Addiction never sleeps. It never gets tired. And neither can I.”

— Malcolm Pannell

Where I’m At

It’s 10:17 PM. I’ve been alcohol-free for 866 days. That number means something to me—it carries weight. But just because I’ve made it this far doesn’t mean every day is smooth. This past week? It’s been tough.

I’ve felt uneasy. Off balance. I know I’m growing, but I feel the tension in my bones.

The Pressure

Work isn’t going the way I hoped. I’m being presented with challenges that push me to learn on the fly. I’m making mistakes—but I’m also learning. Every misstep brings wisdom, even when it’s uncomfortable.

I’m juggling a full-time HVAC program, maintaining my recovery, managing my household, trying to be present in my relationship, and still trying to untangle complicated family dynamics.

It’s a lot. And honestly, sometimes it feels like too much.

The Truth About Healing

Let me be real—I don’t have the urge to use. That’s not what this is about.

This is about healing. The quiet, gritty part of recovery that most people don’t talk about. The kind where you wake up every day and do what you have to do, even if your chest is heavy and your eyes are full of water.

There are moments in class where I don’t understand anything. Then I have to flip into customer service mode and smile through confusion, exhaustion, and stress.

Some days I want to explode.

Some days I feel like I’m going to cry.

Some days I shake and lose my appetite.

And that’s when I know—I need to talk about it.

What I’m Learning

These advanced HVAC classes are intense. I had no idea the science behind heating, cooling, and refrigeration could get this deep. From airflow and duct design to wiring and system calibration—this isn’t just a trade. It’s a world of its own.

And I’m in it. I’m absorbing everything, even when I feel overwhelmed.

But here’s what I’ve realized through it all:

I keep to myself to protect my peace.

I’m still healing. And that’s okay.

Connections Are Hard

There are people in my life who genuinely want to be close to me. I feel bad that I struggle to connect—but it’s hard. It’s awkward. Sometimes I don’t know what to say.

But I want that closeness. I want to build those bridges again. I want to stop feeling like I’m walking through this alone.

And maybe I’m not alone. Maybe someone out there reading this feels the same way.

Hope in the Chaos

Earlier today, I got a message out of the blue from my last sponsee. He told me he’s going to detox.

That meant something.

Because this is what it’s about—keeping each other afloat, even when things feel heavy. I’m proud of him. And I hope, when he has some time under his belt, he’ll read this and know exactly what I mean when I say:

Recovery isn’t just about getting sober. It’s about learning how to live again.

Final Words

This is the side of recovery people don’t always post. But I will. Because addiction never sleeps—it never gets tired. And neither can I.

If you’re feeling this too, if your chest is heavy or your appetite’s fading or you feel like you’re about to break—talk about it. Don’t let the silence win.

We’re still here. Still healing. Still fighting.

And if you’re breathing, you’re still in the race.

— Malcolm Pannell

866 days sober and counting