I was a CHRONIC RELAPSER. Oh, how my brain seemed to want what I knew I could no longer allow my brain to have. I knew that alcohol was Toxic. It was killing me, so I guess it fits snugly into the definition of a Poison. Just as snake venom is used in the production of antitoxins, alcohol seemed to me that it could salve the wounds that it created.
After all, although rare, there are documented cases of death resulting from severe alcohol withdrawal symptoms. Conversely, experience had shown me, the Relapse King, that so much as a single drink could set off a chain reaction that would have me passing out at the Underwood Hotel (a euphemism for people living under the Boardwalk) again after perhaps days or longer of immeasurable drug use.
As heard many times at A.A. Meetings, if one is run over by a train, it is not the caboose that kills you, it's the first car on the train that does the job. If you don't have the first drink, you can't have the second, the third or the one that kills. For me, in recovery, it's the first drink that could kill me.
Let me note here that I am not an Abstinence Only kind of guy. Drink as much or little as you'd care to. I don't prescribe behavior for others. I abstain and that's the end of the story.
The beginning of my recovery story is captured in the pictured quote: "Every Recovery Meeting is an Intervention between Me and the First Drink."
A child can drown in a few teaspoons of water. I am that child. Alcohol is that liquid. Even if I'm wrong in that assumption, absence of alcohol has led me to an Abundant Life.
"Who could ask for anything more?"
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