I am not the type of person who can drink alcoholic beverages successfully. Lord only knows I spent years trying, and time and time again I’d cross one more line, hurt one more person, and then I’d drink, or pop a pill one more time, and die a bit more on the inside.
A hopeless state of mind and body.
More was never enough, and one was always too many… there’s something about booze and me that just doesn’t mix well, so, boom; creator of chaos is me.
Even when I had a corner office, a home with a mortgage, got my hair did, manicures and pedicures done, shopping spree’s and friends and family; it did not matter because when the craving kicked in, the body had to have what the body had to have. And, then I had no job, no home, could care less about my hair much less bathing, and I isolated, except for when I needed something, so I used people; it did not matter because when the craving kicked in, the body had to have what the body had to have.
It’s my experience that this bit about an addict controlling or managing mood and mind altering substances is a crock… end of story. The addiction that I’ve come to know does not discriminate, it doesn’t give a shit if someone loves you, it doesn’t matter if you are educated or uneducated, it sure as fuck doesn’t care if you are rich or poor; in the end, if you are an addict it will have its way with you.
“He could have been saved…” Really, by whom?!
Anyone having first hand experience or no longer delusional about their role in ‘saving’ knows you can not save a drunk or a pill popper or a needle using, nose sniffing dope fiend, unless they reach a place of wanting it… the saying, “He could have been saved” hurts my heart.
Breaking Silence, Sobriety, Feelings, Relationships, mommetime blog, life storiesNow that I’ve been sober awhile, I know from personal experience you cannot make people want something they don’t want; there isn’t a Mom, Dad, Daughter, Son, Sister, Brother, Wife, Husband, Friend, Significant other, Clergy, Employer, Sober person who at some point hasn’t tried with all their might to help save an addict, and failed. Not because they didn’t try hard enough, love enough, pay enough, pray over enough, intervene enough or beg enough.
So, to say. “He could have been saved…” is mean and horrible and unrealistic. It is like saying oh, I know the person you love just died from an overdose, but if only you had tried harder, prayed more, loved more; the person living that madness knows all to well what a nightmare of chaos, hell and drama it is to love or care for an addict.
You can take a horse to water, but you can’t… sigh. Addiction is a crazy merry-go-round of pure madness; doing the same thing over and over, knowing exactly what is going to happen, yet continuing to do it.
For me, I finally reached out and asked for help. I got help alright… and it hurt, sometimes, so much, it felt as if my ass were going to fall off. I had such a difficult time wrapping my head around never and abstaining forever wasn’t something I thought I could do. The physical craving coupled with the mental obsession is a powerful force.
And, for one hundred and eighty days of going to meetings, still not consuming, yet romancing the idea of learning to drink in controlled moderation; I floated around miserably on my imaginary black cloud, shoulding all over myself, trying to contemplate ways of not being a drunk because I wanted what drunk wants… to drink. I, at least, wanted one more glass of wine. Just. One. More. But, I didn’t.
I eventually came to terms with one was too many, and a bunch was never enough. I quit mentally romancing the bottle, sometimes quickly, sometimes slowly, but it eventually happened; I wanted sober more than drunk.
Its been 11 consecutive years, 9 months, plus a few days since I put any of that stuff in my body. So, it can happen… sober can happen. And, you never, ever have to consume again. Ever.
My heart may be beating
but it doesn’t mean I feel alive. Unknown But, guess what, and I believe this with all I’ve got that once a drunk always a drunk… addiction is a killer of love; it doesn’t care if you go dry for extended periods of time; take time off to start a family; focus on a career… a drunk or high will wait on your ass and take you places you never thought you’d stoop to go.
hey little fighter
soon it will be brighter… unknownSo does recovery, recovery can happen if you don’t die! Recovery is there for whoever wants it, but sometimes you have to fight as if your life depends on it as if you are worth it, mainly because you are… you are worth it.