I laid on the couch in front of the TV feeling just plain shitty. This was after I had come done from the bedroom in a nightgown that was drenched. I kept looking at the clock and what seemed like it was hours turned out to be minutes. I kept turning over and looking at the clock and only one or two minutes that had clicked by. It was 3:30am, 3:32am and on and on till I got up and went downstairs to continue the process only without my boyfriend lying beside me snoring his way through it.
I Couldn’t Go On Like This…
I had stopped drinking many, many times. But I always picked it up again and these last couple times I was in a place that I couldn’t believe I had gotten to. Sitting here now at this computer I still don’t know how it happened as fast as it had. Except for the fact that I had become an Alcoholic. Like a REAL ONE. Not like the ones you see wandering on the road rummaging through the trash (which now I have an entirely NEW appreciation for).
There is No Way I am an Alcoholic
Oh yes there is and I was. I now understand that Alcoholism is truly something like a short circuit in your brain that alcohol causes. Sometimes you may be happy, sometimes you may be sad. Sometimes you may have a couple glasses of wine at a wedding or at a party and that is all you have, until THAT day. You have a little at an event, then you go home and you have more and more until you fall asleep (or pass out). I didn’t go to rehab though I know plenty of people that have. Some it has worked for while others it has not. I didn’t fall off the radar like many others did.
In the Meeting
I went to a meeting at a shelter. A shelter for addicts and alcoholics. I sat in the back and shook because of my nervousness and my withdrawals. A smiling face at the front led us through all this ritual, reading this, reading that, just seemed like it was something else that I didn’t need. I mean this was stupid. My name is ______ I am an alcoholic. “HI, ________” and on and on it went. As the meeting went on I felt worse physically. But as I looked around the room there were others that looked a lot worse than me. They were living on the street or staying in the shelter and a voice in my head said, “You think you are better off than they are? For how long?”
At the End
People approached me, one guy had 5 days in- but had several relapses. He looked normal but he was in a real bind. Another guy that was kind and helped me navigate my way through the readings and was very kind hearted. He also wad about 6’5 and I couldn’t believe the softness in his eyes as he looked at me. Some women came up and jotted down their numbers and gave me a booklet for meetings. Where I could go around the area at different times and how I could call for help to any one of them if I ever needed it.
It wasn’t at all like I had imagined
For the first time in a long time I felt at home. I felt like these folks washed their dirty laundry with one another as well as me who they did not know at all. I got that part. I figured that the rest of it would come with time.
One Day At A Time