day3
GeoffT
Thread Starter
Join Date: Nov 2009
Posts: 5
day3
My third day without drinking, and mostly I feel humbled. My cravings have been really rough the past two days, but I've made it this far, just staying busy and distracted and moving from strategy to strategy to keep me from the corner store. I don't feel very good, but I tell myself often that each day I resist, I get stronger and my enemy gets weaker.
Came upon a different way to think of the situation this afternoon than I had before, and I'll share it here: Let's say I'm talking to someone and mention that I have a drinking problem, and he says, "Oh, you mean you abuse alcohol?" Well, no, actually, that's not quite it. I don't abuse alcohol.
Alcohol abuses me.
I am the battered member of a relationship that has become physically and emotionally abusive, no more and no less. I'm embarrassed that I've fallen into this, but perhaps I shouldn't be surprised. After all, My Abuser Alcohol is a charming guy. He's the life of the party. My family likes him, my friends like him. When I met him, he instantly made me feel more at ease. We had lots of good times together. And I got to enjoy his company more and more, and sure enough, he's now my significant other.
But what everyone doesn't see is the real story of my life. My abuser, more and more over time, started telling me what to do, where to go, how to spend my money, which friends I can and can't see. He says jump, I ask how high, or I'm in trouble. And what I mean by trouble: On the way home from the party, he lights into me in the car, as I start panicking and pleading with him to stop - but I know it'll do no good; I know full well what's next. When we get home, he's going to throw me against the refrigerator, blacken my eye, kick me in the stomach for good measure as I'm crumpled on the floor crying and scared. And then My Abuser Alcohol will tear into me pitilessly with words that hurt even more than his punches ever do: My Abuser Alcohol tells me that I don't deserve to be loved or cared for or listened to, that my body, mind and spirit deserve nothing but scorn and abuse, that every dream and hope I have is worthless and the only thing that can save me is to let him control my entire life.
And I wake up the next day, and most days now, sore and sick and scared. But I've learned to hide it from everyone, to cover my black eyes and walk as if my back and shoulder and head aren't aching constantly, to smile and act professional when my insides are fragmented and hollow and the weight on my chest feels like a gravestone. Wouldn't want anyone asking uncomfortable questions. I'll just tell them I fell down the stairs. And by the afternoon, my anger dissipates a little and I'll get a call and a beautifully worded apology and some flowers, and I'll think about how great he was to me when we first met, and how I saw him be tender to that little dog once or something, and start thinking, hey, he's not so bad. Maybe My Abuser Alcohol is just a good guy that's misunderstood and stressed and snaps on me now and then. Maybe this is how relationships are supposed to be, and I just love him so much. Maybe if I did more to please him. Maybe...maybe...maybe...
NO. HELL NO. MOTHERF*** NO. The only sane thing to do when you're in an abusive relationship, the only option worth considering: GET OUT IMMEDIATELY AND NEVER, NEVER, NEVER GO BACK UNDER ANY CIRCUMSTANCES. Not as "friends". Not for occasional fun. Not for even 10 minutes at a coffee shop. No counseling, no trial periods, no nothing. He is not "manageable". Do not walk. Run like a world-class Olympic sprinter. Because if you leave the possibility open even a centimeter, your abuser will use every weapon at his command, guile, intimidation, rationalization, lies, to take you back to hell and keep you there. When he says he's sorry, he's gonna change, he's gonna get help, he may even believe it. But his actions will - not might, will - show how empty his promises always are. And deep down you know it, whether you want to face it or not. If you go back, even a little, he will once again imprison you and steal your life and hurt your body and twist your mind and all the while take black-hearted pleasure in your misery. The abuse will get worse, and worse, and worse, and it will not stop until you are either dead or so miserable you'll wish you were with every fiber of your being.
You see, THIS is what alcohol has the potential to do to me, and I've now reached the point where I no longer have the luxury of worrying about "potential" - now it's starting to be better known as "reality". Alcohol makes my body sick and hurt, dulls my mind, saps my inspiration, keeps me from growing as a person and giving more to my world, makes me stay away from people I love because I'd rather sit at home and do nothing but drink. And more often than not, when I drink, I end up later tearing into myself and telling myself how worthless and weak and stupid I am and how I'll never get anywhere...and yet I keep going back to alcohol again and again. But now I see this relationship for the abusive one it has become, and I know that a full and unyielding commitment to sobriety, and nothing less, is the only way to escape my abuser and regain my freedom and my precious life.
***
Hmm, thinking about the above today sure made that customary Friday six-pack after work sound much less appealing!
Came upon a different way to think of the situation this afternoon than I had before, and I'll share it here: Let's say I'm talking to someone and mention that I have a drinking problem, and he says, "Oh, you mean you abuse alcohol?" Well, no, actually, that's not quite it. I don't abuse alcohol.
Alcohol abuses me.
I am the battered member of a relationship that has become physically and emotionally abusive, no more and no less. I'm embarrassed that I've fallen into this, but perhaps I shouldn't be surprised. After all, My Abuser Alcohol is a charming guy. He's the life of the party. My family likes him, my friends like him. When I met him, he instantly made me feel more at ease. We had lots of good times together. And I got to enjoy his company more and more, and sure enough, he's now my significant other.
But what everyone doesn't see is the real story of my life. My abuser, more and more over time, started telling me what to do, where to go, how to spend my money, which friends I can and can't see. He says jump, I ask how high, or I'm in trouble. And what I mean by trouble: On the way home from the party, he lights into me in the car, as I start panicking and pleading with him to stop - but I know it'll do no good; I know full well what's next. When we get home, he's going to throw me against the refrigerator, blacken my eye, kick me in the stomach for good measure as I'm crumpled on the floor crying and scared. And then My Abuser Alcohol will tear into me pitilessly with words that hurt even more than his punches ever do: My Abuser Alcohol tells me that I don't deserve to be loved or cared for or listened to, that my body, mind and spirit deserve nothing but scorn and abuse, that every dream and hope I have is worthless and the only thing that can save me is to let him control my entire life.
And I wake up the next day, and most days now, sore and sick and scared. But I've learned to hide it from everyone, to cover my black eyes and walk as if my back and shoulder and head aren't aching constantly, to smile and act professional when my insides are fragmented and hollow and the weight on my chest feels like a gravestone. Wouldn't want anyone asking uncomfortable questions. I'll just tell them I fell down the stairs. And by the afternoon, my anger dissipates a little and I'll get a call and a beautifully worded apology and some flowers, and I'll think about how great he was to me when we first met, and how I saw him be tender to that little dog once or something, and start thinking, hey, he's not so bad. Maybe My Abuser Alcohol is just a good guy that's misunderstood and stressed and snaps on me now and then. Maybe this is how relationships are supposed to be, and I just love him so much. Maybe if I did more to please him. Maybe...maybe...maybe...
NO. HELL NO. MOTHERF*** NO. The only sane thing to do when you're in an abusive relationship, the only option worth considering: GET OUT IMMEDIATELY AND NEVER, NEVER, NEVER GO BACK UNDER ANY CIRCUMSTANCES. Not as "friends". Not for occasional fun. Not for even 10 minutes at a coffee shop. No counseling, no trial periods, no nothing. He is not "manageable". Do not walk. Run like a world-class Olympic sprinter. Because if you leave the possibility open even a centimeter, your abuser will use every weapon at his command, guile, intimidation, rationalization, lies, to take you back to hell and keep you there. When he says he's sorry, he's gonna change, he's gonna get help, he may even believe it. But his actions will - not might, will - show how empty his promises always are. And deep down you know it, whether you want to face it or not. If you go back, even a little, he will once again imprison you and steal your life and hurt your body and twist your mind and all the while take black-hearted pleasure in your misery. The abuse will get worse, and worse, and worse, and it will not stop until you are either dead or so miserable you'll wish you were with every fiber of your being.
You see, THIS is what alcohol has the potential to do to me, and I've now reached the point where I no longer have the luxury of worrying about "potential" - now it's starting to be better known as "reality". Alcohol makes my body sick and hurt, dulls my mind, saps my inspiration, keeps me from growing as a person and giving more to my world, makes me stay away from people I love because I'd rather sit at home and do nothing but drink. And more often than not, when I drink, I end up later tearing into myself and telling myself how worthless and weak and stupid I am and how I'll never get anywhere...and yet I keep going back to alcohol again and again. But now I see this relationship for the abusive one it has become, and I know that a full and unyielding commitment to sobriety, and nothing less, is the only way to escape my abuser and regain my freedom and my precious life.
***
Hmm, thinking about the above today sure made that customary Friday six-pack after work sound much less appealing!
Keep on going we have tomorrow to wake up too hopefully!
mergirl
Join Date: Jan 2009
Location: Paradise
Posts: 4,161
ya, alcohol hurt and betrayed me pretty badly. Congratulations on day 3! At some point in the journey, months after getting sober, I first forgave myself, and then I actually became grateful for the awful lessons booze had taught me.
Thanks for your post
Thanks for your post
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