05 May 2018

Chemically Compounded Attacks of Anxiety & Fear, Crouching Tigers...

What was not real, not reality in some objective sense, certainly held me in its relentless grip. The feel was real, like a plate glass window through which I could see but could not feel. It does not matter that even I knew that glass window was not real, because it held me back, detached, in an inescapably separate emotional reality anyway.
"Fear sat somewhere in my near immediate future, a crouching tiger, always ready to spring forward. I could feel and yet not feel the alcohol and its absence. Towards the end of nearly every relapse, anxiety attacks would consume me. I couldn't move forward because I was frozen in fear and anxiety. Those drunken, imaginary and insane fears were no less real than the factual fears of a knife at my throat, a gun in my back or the rest of my blah, blah, blah, blah, blah, drunken reality. Fear, a beating in my head when I had no drum. Pounding. Pounding."
I know now that much of my insanity was chemically induced by alcohol, that in alcohol's absence, much of what happened to me and done by me would not have occurred.
On the brink of alcohol's tipping point, beyond which permanent brain damage would occur and never leave me, never slacken, unwittingly I stood frozen upon that invisible border.
Now, a decade plus in recovery, I see the ocean wave's indifference to all of this. But my perception of reality is different. Gratitude tinges my perceptions, like the edges of a rose's petals, like the curve of waves to break upon this shore, like light from a million stars reaching this one place and this one time together, lights originated perhaps billions of years apart.
Stronger for my weaknesses, I strive on....

"Nothing matters more than that we remain sober because when we remain sober everything matters more."
#Alcoholism #Addiction #Recovery
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