Have I Said Too Much?
The urge to drink has been strong lately - the three-month itch if you will.
That's about how long I have gone in the past - without drinking.
Let's see, it was June of 2007 when I first said 'nuff-z-'nuff and made an appointment to see Mina. I was scared that while my heavy drinking had not caused any significant immediate tragedy, that it would soon cut my life short - maybe even with a heart attack in the middle of the night. When I would drink heavily, which was about five or six days a week, I would wake up in the middle of the night and have a hard time sleeping. My heart would be pounding so hard that I could actually hear it reverberating through the sheets and into the pillow. I could set a bean or grain of rice on my chest and it would hop up and down much like the Mexican Jumping variety.
That being said, with a heavy heart and a deep love of life and myself and my family and my friends I took my cessation techniques to the next level. You know this already, dear reader, I've been whining about it for a year now.
So the thing is that in September of last year I tried drinking in my beloved hallowed ground of Galena. That's it, I would drink quarterly. Just one or two, right? Well, I drank a whole bottle and then some. I drank right in front of my Grandma - lying to her face as it were - and made an ass of myself - ruined for the next day with a malevolent hangover.
This taught me something. I took it as a test - a failed test. I can't have just one, I can't. Like I've said before, when people ask why I can't just have one I ask them - "do you know how many beers there are in the world?"
Just one. That's the problem. Once I break the seal it's on. I was proud of my abilities, still am a little, that's what has made this so hard. The grieving for my lost friend - the drink.
Anyway, I was strong after that. Felt like I knew what I had to do. But then in November I drank again. And it was on for the holidays. I kicked the door open and went on a rampage. Embarrassed myself in front of family again in Galena in December - something my Dad recently confirmed as a "disappointment" at the time - in our beloved Galena - where my Grandpa rests. (tears welling now)
So, yeah, back to Mina in Jan, and more hit or miss until finally in March I had a really heavy binge weekend. On the one hand I want to detail it for you - with pride, and on the other I just want to cover that poor body, lying in the road - ambulance driver looking at his watch before penning the time of death.
That last Saturday night, March 8, drinking straight from the bottle, lying to the face of my wife and children - them not even knowing that I'm running back and forth from the viewing of Amadeus to sip from the bottle. I don't even like drinking from the bottle. I like my bourbon on the rocks. (shaking my head in disgust).
So yeah, I went back to see Mina and she surprised me with her response. "So, are you ready for some inpatient treatment now? Six weeks or something?" See, in the first three months the thing that kept me strong was not wanting to fail and have to go in and tell Mina that I had drank. It was like a game - a challenge. I'm good at games. I like to win. I hate to fail.
Even after the episode in September, I really didn't feel like I failed, but rather conducted a test and passed/failed depending on your perspective and was renewed in the challenge to not drink and not have to report it.
Once I dove into the bottle for the holidays I'm sure I was thinking in the back of my mind that I would have to go back to Mina and face her and my failure, my loss, but you know I put it off until after the new year.
And then even when I saw here in Jan she was supportive and nurturing and understanding which made it that much easier to break the bottle again.
But this time in March, even though she was nice, I felt like I was scolded. WTF? Was what I heard. What are we going to do different?
That gave me strength and reinforced my strategies to think it through to the end. And review and recollect and be aware of all the reasons I don't want to drink. To rejoice and be thankful for how good things are when I'm not drunk - all the fun things we do as a family - how my relationship with Jackie is better - how my work is better - how life itself is better when I'm not drinking.
So, yeah, yesterday when I went to see Mina I told her that the other night we went to dinner and I was really trying hard to hint to Jackie that I wanted to drink and I wanted her approval - just this one time - just one or two drinks with dinner - just a quarterly thing - I'm ready - I can handle it - at the very least this will give Mina and I something to talk about!
But no, Jackie was strong and just shook her head. I didn't say any of this directly, mind you, but in casual comments here and there - just looking for that foot in the door - like a prosecutor prowling around a harried witness.
So, here I am and after telling Mina all of this yesterday she made me realize that I am still at risk. Sure it's been three months and I feel strong, but the pull of the drink is never-ending - a gravity - a star. I need to keep myself in orbit and not crash into that fiery ball of liquid death.
Thing is, for most people it takes some tragedy to get them to change their life. Sure, your family gets wiped out in a highway accident and you start buckling your own seatbelt - covered in tears - regretful tears.
You fall to your knees grasping your heart in tremendous pain and from the emergency room gurney you swear to watch what you eat and exercise more.
The world runs out of food and in a starved daze the lowly masses vow to ride their bikes to the local market for local organic produce that is no longer there.
I can't wait to die in my sleep to stop drinking. I can't wait for a DUI, or divorce, or child abuse or job loss. I need to head this shit off at the pass and do what is right for the sake of righteousness. Not for some fear of a terrible end since passed.
So, yeah, Mina asked me to I don't drink because the massive quantities cause my heart to beat out of my chest and I'm afraid it's going to kill me.
I don't drink because once the seal is broken I don't stop until I have passed out.
I don't drink because being sober has improved my relationship with family, friends, coworkers and myself.
I don't drink.