So yesterday was day 2 sober. Funny part? The not drinking isn’t what sucked. It’s all the shit that comes with not having a quick, tried and true escape from reality. I’m not in the program but I think there’s a fairly famous saying in the rooms, “You don’t have a drinking problem, you have a living life problem.” This is referencing the commonly held belief that you stop maturing emotionally when you begin seriously drinking, so you have a bunch of 30, 40, 50 year old peeps with teenage level EQ attempting to navigate the world as adults.
A glass (or 4) of something allows you to put whatever you’re feeling on the back burner, makes every thought slightly less urgent. That smokey whiskey rolls down your throat and coats the world in a soft hazy gaze-which is much fucking preferable to cold, stark, concrete, right-in-fucking-front-of-you-no-filter-no-fuzzy-edges LIFE. If I could live buzzed, with no detrimental effects to my health, productivity, self-esteem and relationships-you’re damn right I would. But as my late friend Steve C. stated, “I can have a life or I can drink how I want to-not both”.
It’s a bitter, bitter pill to swallow-the fact that I threw away a FUCKTON of days. Last October I was just a few short weeks away from 3yrs sober. It’s now nearly exactly ten months later and that’s all the time that it’s taken for me to do a slow slide back into the same patterns that forced me to quit in the first place. I really thought that after sip number one I’d be at the beer store @8am and drinking all day, every day. It didn’t happen like that. Alcohol, my backstabbing best friend, is far more insidious. She disguises herself as Fun! Social! Exotic! Interesting! A reward after a hard day’s work, a welcome respite from everyday stress. She’s wormed her way back into my head and my heart yet again, and now I have to begin the exorcism process once more.
Blah, blah, blah-I know, cry me a river of first world problems right? Anyway, cheers. Here’s to hoping day 3 won’t suck quite as much.