On Friday I was feeling really good, and started to get excited about doing some serious printing in the darkroom again, something I haven't done for a couple years. As soon as those emotions came to the surface, my limbic system hijacked them and I started thinking about drinking. I had to beat back the drinking thoughts with rational ones; like how bad my life got before I quit.
About an hour later I started to get hungry, but didn't have any food with me. I still had a couple hours to go before I finished work and I could feel myself getting more and more jittery and antsy. As those feelings were building, my limbic system piggy backed a ride and I started thinking about drinking yet again. I had to stop at a gas station and load up on a bag of taco's and an orange juice, which made me feel better in about 20 minutes.
That's where I'm at now. If I get excited, my mind turns to drinking. If I get hungry, my mind turns to drinking. This leaves me two options...go buy some booze and drink, or beat those feelings back.
I saw a documentary recently where recovering addicts were shown photographs for a fraction of a second at a time. When an image about their drug of choice came up, their limbic systems recognized them and initiated a response (an urge) before the rational/thinking portions of their brains had registered any response at all. That means, at this point in my recovery, that my limbic system is always there, waiting to flood my brain with urge chemistry at every opportunity.
Knowing this is a great help...it means it isn't some mysterious force. Whenever cravings or urges to drink surface, it's my limbic system trying to get me to give it the alcohol induced dopamine bath it so desperately wants. So basically there are only two choices; give in and start drinking, or override those thoughts with clear, rational ones.
Apparently, the intensity and frequency of these urges diminish with time.
One path leads to a nasty, disgusting early death, and the other leads who knows where, but it will surely be a better place.
Ramble, ramble, ramble...
Murray