Immediately, before I had a chance to even think or feel, I read "Learn the difference between the sound of your intuition guiding you and your traumas misleading you" (as pictured) and I was stunned.
Intuition had already fallen off the face of the earth when I first got sober. Alcohol, when stuffing any one emotion or a cluster of emotions, succeeded in pounding all emotions beyond sensation.
Call it numb, if you will, but that doesn't really capture the desperate and anesthetized nihilism that somehow evolved by itself within that separate universe that is addiction.
Chemical Betrayal. My brain sat like a brain you might see in a jar in a laboratory, unceremoniously embalmed in whatever chemical bath is necessary for its preservation.
My brain was not so much chemically preserved as betrayed. Yes, I felt betrayed by this chemical compound we call alcohol. The feeling at this particular intersection was no different than if I had been betrayed by a lover, only more numbing. And insane. Insane and insensate.
After Betrayal, How Could There Be Trust?
Alcohol would have to be made dead. This chain of words in English (and presumably all human languages) may not suitably capture the separation of subject and object, welded together as alcohol and I were after 30 years and 50,000 drinks.
If I could not kill it, I would, at least, make alcohol dead to me. Alcohol, you must be made dead. You must die if I am to live. So ever sorry to see you go.
And still, and yet, and soon, I would relapse again and again.
Human trust? (Intuition) We're back to the intuition part of the opening quote, which I'll repeat again here: "Learn the difference between the sound of your intuition guiding you and your traumas misleading you." Human trust? I would need intuition to bring me back to humanity, like an amoeba inching towards light. This alcoholic animal would need to move me back from that chemical precipice.
I would have to rejoin the human race. After the chemical betrayal wore off, I would have to once again learn and relearn a human trust.
Intuition fed by frayed nerves.
Somehow, I cobbled together what can be assigned meaning only as a new life.
Trauma. Addiction. Betrayal.
Trust. Eventually I learned that Recovery is Possible, Doable, Irreplaceable.
I came to believe that "Nothing matters more than that we remain sober because when we remain sober everything matters more."
#Enjoy ALL DRINKING ASIDE: The Destruction, Deconstruction & Reconstruction of an Alcoholic Animal