"It doesn't matter how you cut the cake: It's still a cake. And I'm an alcoholic, straight or iced...."
Addiction changes everything.
Despite 12+ years of continuous sobriety, I cannot be convinced that I could somehow be trained to be a social drinker. The risks are too great. The potential consequences, too devastating. Besides, truly, this sober life fits me fine. Like it was always meant to be.
My sober satisfaction will not to be toyed with.
A path forward, my path forward, precludes alcohol.
What could fill the absence that only alcohol once filled?
Recovery fills the centers in this box of chocolates.
Addiction's spell is the deception of being on fulfillment's edge. In the unreality of addiction you will turn left at every intersection. A thousand left hand turns - the spring is wound too tight, another drink in hand. The insane watch stops. Or breaks. Too tight.
Ask a rat.
The rat is dead. Killed by left, left, left. Insanity ensued and I was screwed.
This is why I think I cannot drink. It leads me here, a cul-de-sac of infinite zeros and one too many left hand turns.
More alcohol gave "the illusion of the same high. But it was not the same high. Could not be the same high. Addiction takes what is lost out of the equation to give the appearance, the trompe d'oeuil of sameness. But it is never the same high that is achieved because the highway of more becomes littered with loss. The equation does not factor in loss because the equation is owned by the addiction and not by the dispossessed.
Comfort should be for the dying, yet, there is, in the end, no comfort in this. Oblivion is not comfort. Life obstructed. Construct a new life with what's left, Jim. Jim. What will become of him? A simple death unencumbered by alcohol. Let whatever causes his death be some single cause. Not alcohol. No, not that. Please, not that for him. Give him not that...."
Yes, my behavior was observed. But I did not know for years how others really saw me. I didn't hear the social drinkers' warning to slow down and would not heed them when I could no longer hide my addiction, my ability to control. Blackout drinking that at times could last for days. Right up to the solitary end of my drinking, no one believed my lies were not really lies, just addictive self-deception and false promises.
Still. somehow, some way, finally, I did get and stay sober.
That madhouse ended.
This here and now will end my days for now.
To any and all who think that I could somehow be convinced that I could be trained to be a social drinker, I would say this: You have not been there. You do not realize the gift that recovery is to me and the hell that my addiction was.
Not me, I say.
Find another rat in another day.
My recovery will not be deposed.
#Alcoholism #Addiction #Recovery
The passage above in quotes is excerpted from All Drinking Aside: The Destruction, Deconstruction & Reconstruction of an Alcoholic Animal , an Autobiographical Fiction by Jim Anders, linked here: http://amzn.to/1bX6JyO
Visit his Niume Recovery page here: https://niume.com/pages/profile/?userID=26056& find his Recovery Tweets here: http://twitter.com/JimAnders4