Krazy

If I don't write this, I'm going to drink. Tonight.

I just took a thirty day chip at my Sunday night meeting. I have thirty-five days.

I'm afraid that if I stop writing, indeed if I get up from in front of this computer, I'm going to go out and by beer or wine or SOMETHING.

I'm restless as all hell. I can't seem to stop bouncing my leg up and down. **** **** **** **** **** **** ****.

I don't know how much of this is in my head, but my perception is that my trouble started night before last. I've had horrible trouble sleeping lately. Indeed, that was always a big part of my motivation to drink-- knocking myself out for the evening.
So night before last I took a low-dose Ambien from someone, thinking that would allow me to get an early and restful night's sleep.
WRONG. I woke up yesterday morning with an eerie, uneasy feeling. It started coming back to me that I had NOT gone right to bed after the sleeping pill had kicked in. My old cell phone was sitting on my coffee table. I checked my current cell phone, and sure enough-- I had looked up old numbers on the old phone, and made calls.
From midnight through twelve thirty or so, I had called nearly every marijuana connection I have ever had in this area. Luckily I only connected with one of them, who could not help me. THANK GOD. I nearly drove impaired in the middle of the night to hook up pot, spending money I simply cannot afford to spend, and yet again throwing away the little sober time I have.
My. Leg. Is. Still. Bouncing.

What do I do? I haven't felt this anxious or tempted to go get boozed up ...in a long time, at the very least.

I can't. I can't. I can't. I can't.

I will submit my will to God and acknowledge that I am powerless over alcohol. I will submit my will to God and acknowledge that I am powerless over alcohol. I will submit my will to God and admit that I am powerless over alcohol. I will submit my will to God and acknowledge that I am powerless over alcohol. I will submit my will to God and acknowledge that I am powerless over alcohol. I will submit my will to God and acknowledge that I am powerless over alcohol.

Why is this suddenly so much MORE difficult than it was? Why is the itch so strong that I metaphorically want to scratch myself through to the bone?

Breathing....breathing...breathing...

Time to pray. A lot. A lot.

Dave