Paul, my homie bro...
Sneaking in late on a Saturday night for a little diatribe because I care for you deeply.
I feel you didn't really explain yourself clearly at the outset when you started your torn thread. It became fuller toward the end. Maybe I don't know what torn is because I never chose to be an alcoholic, who the hell would ever choose such a horrid life? I could only make the choice to stop.
And it has to be forever. That's the kicker. We swallow it in small chunks to get us by, but the reality is we alcoholics can't ever drink safely again. Never. I think we all know this. Doesn't matter if it's SMART, RR, AA, solo, therapists, it's nada. I drink, I die in an ugly grotesque manner, and there will probably be collateral damage. That's my CB analysis. And I never even got a DUI.
I believe that's the unspoken code here on SR, why the owners have so graciously allowed us to be here and the moderators give of their time so generously. We suck up the community and welcome the laughs for they are sorely needed. If one of our comrades falls, we'll be there to pick them up. Over and over again. Who wouldn't try to save someone from dying if they could?
But if you're not an alcoholic, if your brain isn't wired that way for whatever reason, you can't know what I'm expressing in your gut, or your heart, or your mind. One can broach it empirically, but nothing more. In that respect, it really does take one to know one; there's a bizarre chasm that separates us from others who imbibe. Will you become alcoholic if you continue to drink the way you do? I seriously doubt it. But I hope you let us know if that happens.
I can't speak for other substances, there are forums for those, as it's not my deal. As for pot, I don't know and don't care. It's illegal and escaping reality and cheating, but it won't kill you that I know.
Sorry for rambling on. I just wanted express my truth and from where I'm coming.
You are loved and liked here. For good reason.
If I can ever do anything, or be there for you just because I care...just holler. I've got lots of minutes on the cell and would talk with you in a heartbeat.
Keep singing, my friend. You know I've always wanted to pull up a chair to watch you belting at the mic.
Much love,
Donna