Something Really Good
Something Really Good
ESH –
I never knew it could be like this. I always thought that happiness came from an external source—a bottle, a pill, a smoke, something beyond me that I had to ingest in some way to calm the discontent. But this?
Today’s a normal day. Went to class, ran some errands, socialized some and exercised a lot.
Today would have bored me if I still had been drinking. I would have looked forward to tonight, to partying, to getting blasted out of mind and riding alcohol as long as I could until I inevitably crashed with no memory of what I had done and who I had talked to. It’s a crime, really. It’s a damn disservice to life to live like that, one step removed from actual being.
And that’s sad. Because something’s changed.
It’s all internal, the way I look at the world and am okay with just with way it is. Am great with just the way it is actually, like all the pieces are where they need to be, like I’m where I need to be and I just never knew it drowned in liquor and coughing up grime from smoking too many cigarettes.
This is the gift of sobriety. It’s the euphoria that transcends alcohol and using. It’s serenity.
With all that using, I was chasing a phantom. I chased shadow images of myself that I found in every bottle. I chased dreams and possibilities, only to wake up dry mouthed and head pounding the next day. Chase, chase, chase. It’s a gerbil wheel, leading to nowhere, only I never saw the cage.
Happiness in sobriety isn’t ephemeral. It doesn’t just run out when the bottle is empty. It comes from a deeper source, from changing thinking and changing behaviors, but mostly from being okay with the way things are. Not that wanting change is bad—but whether I accomplish change or not, everything will be okay. I’m no longer drinking.
Active alcoholism never has that sense of possibility. Sometime, after every bottle, the hope is lost. It goes deeper than the loss of memory, the impression that things were good but never knowing the specifics. Alcohol destroys lives. When I drank, I became isolated, bitter, focused on the next high rather than anything long-lasting. And the crazy thing is: I thought I was doing well. That’s freaking nuts.
That’s the gift of sobriety. Even if things go bad like they sometimes do in life, I know I’ll be okay. That’s an assurance I can’t buy in a handle of whiskey or a 12-pack of beer. No matter what happens, I’m sober and when I’m sober, I’ll always be okay.
Thanks SR.
I never knew it could be like this. I always thought that happiness came from an external source—a bottle, a pill, a smoke, something beyond me that I had to ingest in some way to calm the discontent. But this?
Today’s a normal day. Went to class, ran some errands, socialized some and exercised a lot.
Today would have bored me if I still had been drinking. I would have looked forward to tonight, to partying, to getting blasted out of mind and riding alcohol as long as I could until I inevitably crashed with no memory of what I had done and who I had talked to. It’s a crime, really. It’s a damn disservice to life to live like that, one step removed from actual being.
And that’s sad. Because something’s changed.
It’s all internal, the way I look at the world and am okay with just with way it is. Am great with just the way it is actually, like all the pieces are where they need to be, like I’m where I need to be and I just never knew it drowned in liquor and coughing up grime from smoking too many cigarettes.
This is the gift of sobriety. It’s the euphoria that transcends alcohol and using. It’s serenity.
With all that using, I was chasing a phantom. I chased shadow images of myself that I found in every bottle. I chased dreams and possibilities, only to wake up dry mouthed and head pounding the next day. Chase, chase, chase. It’s a gerbil wheel, leading to nowhere, only I never saw the cage.
Happiness in sobriety isn’t ephemeral. It doesn’t just run out when the bottle is empty. It comes from a deeper source, from changing thinking and changing behaviors, but mostly from being okay with the way things are. Not that wanting change is bad—but whether I accomplish change or not, everything will be okay. I’m no longer drinking.
Active alcoholism never has that sense of possibility. Sometime, after every bottle, the hope is lost. It goes deeper than the loss of memory, the impression that things were good but never knowing the specifics. Alcohol destroys lives. When I drank, I became isolated, bitter, focused on the next high rather than anything long-lasting. And the crazy thing is: I thought I was doing well. That’s freaking nuts.
That’s the gift of sobriety. Even if things go bad like they sometimes do in life, I know I’ll be okay. That’s an assurance I can’t buy in a handle of whiskey or a 12-pack of beer. No matter what happens, I’m sober and when I’m sober, I’ll always be okay.
Thanks SR.
Great post Drac, but to put a spin on what you said, I believe my current happiness DOES come from an external source. It's just a much Higher Power than alcohol could ever be.
Thanks for sharing! Always happy to see you on here.
Thanks for sharing! Always happy to see you on here.
Brilliant post, Drac!
I think most of us, me included, were chasing outside of ourselves to try to find happiness. And, as we all know that doesn't work. When we can finally understand that we have the happiness, joy, peace within us, then we have the answers.
I think most of us, me included, were chasing outside of ourselves to try to find happiness. And, as we all know that doesn't work. When we can finally understand that we have the happiness, joy, peace within us, then we have the answers.
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