My Alcoholic Stocking

Does the title of this blog explain enough? I really am trying not to cuss
but FUCK. My AA group is amazing; the only reason I did not want to jump
off a fucking bridge today.

People at work can really be fucking pieces of shit. Do they have nothing
better to do than try to fuck with people. Do your job and leave others
alone.

I want a tattoo that says. “Live and Let Live.” What about that don’t
people understand. None of them are aware of my condition…I am an alcoholic
and everyday is a struggle. Mornings seem ok…then the day goes on.

So the fucking bridge…I pictured a small bridge with a beautiful out-look
of the mountains, over a creek and the plunge, relieving. Perhaps die? I
had not gotten that far before I thought about the 11 days of hell I have
already gone through in this sobriety. I say I would not wish this on my
worst enemy but it really fucking sucks so I would. I wanted nothing more
than to drink until I was away from the problem I was facing today. The
problem is somewhat of a big deal but if things like this happened before I
decided to quit being a drunk, I would be ok because my companion of choice
would be in the car, liquor store or at home waiting for me. Then the next
day I would go in to work carefree because I was still somewhat
intoxicated. When sobriety kicked in I would take some caffeine pills
(along with other forms of caffeine) and go along with my day…Knowing that
my companion will be there later; somewhere.

I ended up not jumping off that rustic mountainous bridge, I kept going. I
got home… Cried and yelled and screamed in the shower. WHY GOD? WITH
EVERYTHING I HAVE BEEN THROUGH IN MY LIFE, WHY ME? (Yes I was letting
myself drown in self pity, I think it is needed right now) Then God, in
somewhat of a weird way told me He is here. I told him I could not feel
Him. But he told me he was there so I felt some peace. So I had dinner with
my family and went to my meeting.

A funny note: Everyone in AA probably says FUCK between every other word.
You know why? Because being an alcoholic FUCKING sucks.

Here is to day 12 tomorrow; I am almost there.

When I cried in the shower I pictured all of the shit I have stuffed deep
down into the depths of the infected crevice that has made its parasite
like home in me. This is just the start…

Here is a story about me….. So I look back and see that I have been an
alcoholic for nearly 7 years. I am only on the first step in AA and I’m
already blown away about who I was. Picture a really big Christmas
stocking
; a cheap one from the dollar store. Sure it can hold a lot of
things and is capable of being stuffed to the point that the cheap fabric
can consume sharp and heavy things forced in to it but the more that get’s
stuffed the more the fabric stretches and eventually gets so thin you can
see the things inside of it but it does not rip. Alcohol was my stocking.
YEARS and Years of “things” were stuffed in that parasitic crevice
“stocking” but I rarely picked from that stocking because, as I believed,
alcohol was the solution.

My stocking consists of mental, physical and sexual abuse. Self doubt and
hatred. The first and last thing I pulled out of my stocking quite a few
years ago was my virginity (that I decided to give). Opening the door of
the molestation I suffered as a child caused such pain…alcohol took that
away, most of the time. Alcohol was great; I could escape the dreams at
night because I was so intoxicated I didn’t remember a damn thing from the
night before. My stocking was filled with so much shit. Shit I had done to
me and shit I had done to myself…regardless my stocking is now breaking and
the poison I once called my friend, companion and escape is not longer.
That poison is death.
I can do this

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