Originally Posted by fiveyearzen

Sorry, I thought of something else since the trigger here is the grieving process. This something nobody told me when I quit drinking.

It is my conviction that an alcoholic must grieve the loss of alcohol.

I don't remember all twelve steps anymore, but I don't remember that being one of them. I think I can safely say that for all of us, alcohol was a dear friend. It was there for us when nobody else was, through thick and thin. It helped us through some rough times. It gave without asking anything in return. It was always happy to see us. It was a wonderful listener. It emboldened us. And, most importantly, we loved it more than anything else in the world. Sobriety means the death of that friend. Once we are sober, we see alcohol for what it really was: a destructive addiction, but the alcoholic you still exists in your mind, and he/she disagrees. I found it immensely helpful to bury the alcoholic me along with my dear friend, alcohol. I even went so far as to make an effigy and have a little ceremony. It wasn't exactly a viking funeral, but it did the trick.