Here at TIE O’ THE DAY, we recommend a reasonable amount of looking back on one’s life. One should occasionally revisit where one has been, if only to appreciate the fineness of where one is now. The important thing to remember while engaging in the act of looking back on one’s past is that it’s a nice place to visit, but nobody can live there. 
Here’s a re-post from 2018, about just that kind of thing:
IT WAS FUN, THEN IT WAS NOT FUN
Hey, Bow Tie o’ the Day’s wearing its neon green animal print for our dinkin’-around afternoon. We played around with the mirror and the camera for a few minutes, and we snapped this blurred shot.
Have you ever had a day when you felt a touch blurry? I occasionally feel blurry. And raggedy. And generally out of focus in the details. Those days happen because we’re tired, or upset, or confused, or have too many bills to pay—you name it. Blurry days are normal. It’s a human being thing.
Back in the day, when I drank, I felt blurry more often than not. I’d like to be able to say I hated the buzzy beer blur, but I was smitten with the feeling. I liked it waaaay too much, though. I finally figured out that my life—like anyone’s life—wasn’t all about me. What I did affected the people around me more than I realized. I had no idea how blurry I was to the people who seemed to care for me. I’m lucky I had enough awareness to do what I needed to do, so I wouldn’t lose Suzanne and other people who gave a damn about me.
Don’t misunderstand me. I enjoyed my time with a near-constant beer in my hand. Pub-hopping all across Ireland. Lots of get-togethers with friends in backyards. Hangin’ at beaches along the Atlantic Ocean. 4th of July fireworks on The Mall in front of the U.S. Capitol. Sittin’ on porches. Canoeing on the Potomac River. Picnics all over creation. And always a cooler full of brewskis nearby. Even now, if you name a brand of beer, I can remember the precise taste of that particular brew. And I tell you honestly that I cannot barbecue as skillfully without a beer in my hand. A can of Diet Coke doesn’t have the same heft or magic to it.
At some point in my life, it was clearly time to dissolve my relationship with beer, no matter how much I liked it. (I miss no other version of alcohol.) After I knew I needed to choose a new beverage, it took me a couple of years to get completely sober. But I finally managed to do it. I don’t regret picking up my first beer, and I don’t regret putting down my last one. I’ve found that it’s impossible to completely regret doing things that taught you bigly lessons—lessons that make you a better person. At least, that’s how it’s always worked for me.