Well last night was hard…and tonight too. Last night I felt like I was going to go crazy not having a drink on Friday night. I drempt about drinking and being drunk all night and for a second when I woke up I wndered if I was still drunk from the night before. An amazing thing happened today. I can’t remember feeling like I am really getting to know myself and love me like I did. I felt sober and life. I know this will come and go. Alcoholics who have been going to the meetings for 30 years say it comes and goes. All I can do is thank God for this day and for keeping me sober.
Tonight was tough. I loved drinking on Saturday nights; especially when I was alone. I would get into my own little world and “be me.” As I have recently and am slowly still descovering “being me” is not being drunk and escaping from my life. It is about looking at life as a sober alcoholic who can let myself feel. My identity is not being an alcoholic. My identity right now is being a recovering alcoholic who is trying to heal and becoe strong and embrace the recovering alcoholics I meet at the meeting. No matter what lead us all to be powerless over alcohol we all srrendored to it. I am learning that without God and his Grace I am powerless over alcohol.
Now I am not here to preach about God. Everyone has their own God and their own guidence with whom ever they see as their higher being. Either way, it is a very hard and amazing thing when one can finally surrendor. Believe me, I am no where there totally letting go. This is my eighth night sober. I have a long time to go in this journey of surrendoring. But! I have made the first step.
As for tonight…I smokes a lot of ciggarets, drank a lot of water and tried to focus on what was right in front of me. Let me say that it’s damn hard. I was watching the game and a beer comercial came on. At that moment I thought there would be nothing better in life than to have a cold 12 pack sitting right next to me and a ciggaret in hand while I rooted for my team. I had to let it go. I wa struc with anxiety out the roof. I wanted to jump out of my skin. I drank water and more water and a little more water. After that I could taste the mxture of alcoholic shots I loved to consume. I can still, as I type this, feel the warm sensation of a nice hot of tequilla goingdown my throut…wanting more and not wanting to stop until I can’t see. Reality is, tequilla equals death for me. Any alcohol means death for me. I was dieing emotionally, physically, spiritually and most importantly the love I had for myself was vertually gone. This mor