An Angel's Deal With The Devil
Grievous Angel
Thread Starter
Join Date: Mar 2011
Location: The Old Line State
Posts: 53
An Angel's Deal With The Devil
John Barleycorn calls. I haven't picked up, but I hear the ringer every minute of every day. It's fainter when I'm doing something, like writing, which I started again, oh, a few days ago, coincidentally about the same time I stumbled into this forum. So, every post is a drink not taken.
It's been about 20 years, maybe 19. I got new friends. There were a couple of time when I stumbled into the arms of my old lover, but after a little flirting and a quick kiss I was gone again. No big falls during this time, so I can't say it's unbroken. I was always able to tune him out again.
This last year or so has been...different. I spent a good bit of the Summer on vacation: Now it's a rosy memory, I'm cooking in a cottage by the sea, fresh lobsters, clams, salad. There is family all around. I have a glass of wine.
As I remember it, I have a slight buzz; I'm happy, witty and fun. My dinner goes over well. I'm disappointed when the wine's gone, but I switch to beer - John Barleycorn! I just saw your cousin, Bacchus! OK, a quick kiss, but that's it.
I've learned not to start until an hour or so before dinner, so I won't get stupid drunk. I don't eat during cocktails, in fact, eating is when I stop. I work to be the one cooking and serving food so I can be the last at the table.
This pretty much works. I get a buzz, I don't fall down, and no one really notices. Everyone else likes a drink, so it's not like I stand out.
Except.
The next morning I always have a hangover. Even if I have had only a quick snog with Mr. Barleycorn, 2 glasses of like everyone else. I am unfocused, grumpy and don't feel well. On the days after I have more, well, we've all been there. Why do I keep going back? I text myself in the morning, describing exactly how wretched I feel. About 4:00 I stop taking myself seriously and start eying the refrigerator. At 5:00, well, I did stop last night, didn't I? That proves I can stop when I want to.
I can't help it if you want to look at me. I'm flattered, but don't get your hopes up. I'm not seeing anyone. Period. I do enjoy talking to you, though. I had forgotten how much fun you can be! One kiss won't hurt. I'll just have one to then you can be off.
You got gin? I'll have a very weak Gin and Tonic. Just one, and in a big glass with a lot of ice. Halfway through I dilute it with more tonic. This doesn't taste right, probably needs another lime. Hell, what it needs is another capful of gin. Well, two.
Happy warm glow! God, you're handsome! Where have been all week? The great thing about a big drink in an icy cup is that, unlike beer, no one notices when you surreptitiously top up again. There's a whole half gallon of gin, so my dent won't be noticeable. Kiss me again!
Cold shrimp salad. I have say it's fabulous, even if I did make it. You think a bottle of Pinot Grigio? Just a glass. I pick at my shrimp until I finish it, then tuck in. Full, and don't want anther drink, which PROVES I don't have a problem. I can stop when I want to. I JUST DID, SEE? In fact, I'm going to drink at least two or three glasses of water and have an aspirin...just because. Look, I'm busy now, I'm sorry if you think I lead you on, but, I'm not that kind of girl.
Morning. I can't fall back asleep. I am anxious and wide awake. I wish I had not been so accommodating to Mr. Barleycorn. We were having such a good time, then somewhere during the night he turned ugly. I set my alarm on my cell phone. I name it something to remind me how I am feeling. I set it for 4:30 PM.
Why do I have to learn this lesson over again every day?
I can hear the call, but I ignore the ringing. For today.
-GA
It's been about 20 years, maybe 19. I got new friends. There were a couple of time when I stumbled into the arms of my old lover, but after a little flirting and a quick kiss I was gone again. No big falls during this time, so I can't say it's unbroken. I was always able to tune him out again.
This last year or so has been...different. I spent a good bit of the Summer on vacation: Now it's a rosy memory, I'm cooking in a cottage by the sea, fresh lobsters, clams, salad. There is family all around. I have a glass of wine.
As I remember it, I have a slight buzz; I'm happy, witty and fun. My dinner goes over well. I'm disappointed when the wine's gone, but I switch to beer - John Barleycorn! I just saw your cousin, Bacchus! OK, a quick kiss, but that's it.
I've learned not to start until an hour or so before dinner, so I won't get stupid drunk. I don't eat during cocktails, in fact, eating is when I stop. I work to be the one cooking and serving food so I can be the last at the table.
This pretty much works. I get a buzz, I don't fall down, and no one really notices. Everyone else likes a drink, so it's not like I stand out.
Except.
The next morning I always have a hangover. Even if I have had only a quick snog with Mr. Barleycorn, 2 glasses of like everyone else. I am unfocused, grumpy and don't feel well. On the days after I have more, well, we've all been there. Why do I keep going back? I text myself in the morning, describing exactly how wretched I feel. About 4:00 I stop taking myself seriously and start eying the refrigerator. At 5:00, well, I did stop last night, didn't I? That proves I can stop when I want to.
I can't help it if you want to look at me. I'm flattered, but don't get your hopes up. I'm not seeing anyone. Period. I do enjoy talking to you, though. I had forgotten how much fun you can be! One kiss won't hurt. I'll just have one to then you can be off.
You got gin? I'll have a very weak Gin and Tonic. Just one, and in a big glass with a lot of ice. Halfway through I dilute it with more tonic. This doesn't taste right, probably needs another lime. Hell, what it needs is another capful of gin. Well, two.
Happy warm glow! God, you're handsome! Where have been all week? The great thing about a big drink in an icy cup is that, unlike beer, no one notices when you surreptitiously top up again. There's a whole half gallon of gin, so my dent won't be noticeable. Kiss me again!
Cold shrimp salad. I have say it's fabulous, even if I did make it. You think a bottle of Pinot Grigio? Just a glass. I pick at my shrimp until I finish it, then tuck in. Full, and don't want anther drink, which PROVES I don't have a problem. I can stop when I want to. I JUST DID, SEE? In fact, I'm going to drink at least two or three glasses of water and have an aspirin...just because. Look, I'm busy now, I'm sorry if you think I lead you on, but, I'm not that kind of girl.
Morning. I can't fall back asleep. I am anxious and wide awake. I wish I had not been so accommodating to Mr. Barleycorn. We were having such a good time, then somewhere during the night he turned ugly. I set my alarm on my cell phone. I name it something to remind me how I am feeling. I set it for 4:30 PM.
Why do I have to learn this lesson over again every day?
I can hear the call, but I ignore the ringing. For today.
-GA
Member
Join Date: Aug 2010
Posts: 344
Upgrade your lover. A fine savignon blanc from Austrailia will beat that pinot grigio everytime, and make it seem weak and watered down, as much as I love a fine Italian wine better than any other.
If you put aside the seafood for the day and having a good cut of meat sauteed to perfection making a fine roux, then do open the Brunello di Monticiano, preferably pre 90's. It's what wine is really meant to be, and makes me realize that all others are just wannabes. Never knew what wine was really supposed to taste like.
God forbid you get a bad mussle. I've sworn them off forever, sitting here in my little cottage by the lake, no seafood readily available but plenty of fresh pike, perch, and bass. I've watched the neighbor clean and fire directly on the grill--this summer I finally plan to learn to clean a fish myself and see just how fine that tastes. No doubt there will be a bottle of something on hand, even if it's just a redneck beer: Leinenkugel's sunset wheat is pretty good actually, as I had sworn off beer and likewise country music forever. Now I'm learning a thing or two about not always being a jazz and wine snob and the joys of how the other half live. They don't just know how to catch a fish, they know how to clean it too.
You romance your lover, I may be done romancing mine. He left me for the bottle, his ego, or revenge, or all three, it appears.
Maybe he had it right afterall, I think, eyeing a bottle. If I had simply stayed an alcoholic in training and not demanded intimate open honest true to his heart reveal me to you communication, I could have enjoyed it all forever: Living in the land of beauty; the frequent trips abroad, the homes in so many places, the sun always shining down on us, especially illuminating the sparkles in those ice cubes.
Ah, the memories. They flood me and release my own flood, difficult to see the monitor now through those open gates.
Presently: he's incommunicado. Probably relaxing on a Mexican beach somewhere, a potential or new lover within reach.
All I wanted was to put this wedding ring back on.
You can romance the alcohol 'til the flying pigs come home, me--I'm romancing tears.
Call an alcoholic's bluff--you will lose.
If you put aside the seafood for the day and having a good cut of meat sauteed to perfection making a fine roux, then do open the Brunello di Monticiano, preferably pre 90's. It's what wine is really meant to be, and makes me realize that all others are just wannabes. Never knew what wine was really supposed to taste like.
God forbid you get a bad mussle. I've sworn them off forever, sitting here in my little cottage by the lake, no seafood readily available but plenty of fresh pike, perch, and bass. I've watched the neighbor clean and fire directly on the grill--this summer I finally plan to learn to clean a fish myself and see just how fine that tastes. No doubt there will be a bottle of something on hand, even if it's just a redneck beer: Leinenkugel's sunset wheat is pretty good actually, as I had sworn off beer and likewise country music forever. Now I'm learning a thing or two about not always being a jazz and wine snob and the joys of how the other half live. They don't just know how to catch a fish, they know how to clean it too.
You romance your lover, I may be done romancing mine. He left me for the bottle, his ego, or revenge, or all three, it appears.
Maybe he had it right afterall, I think, eyeing a bottle. If I had simply stayed an alcoholic in training and not demanded intimate open honest true to his heart reveal me to you communication, I could have enjoyed it all forever: Living in the land of beauty; the frequent trips abroad, the homes in so many places, the sun always shining down on us, especially illuminating the sparkles in those ice cubes.
Ah, the memories. They flood me and release my own flood, difficult to see the monitor now through those open gates.
Presently: he's incommunicado. Probably relaxing on a Mexican beach somewhere, a potential or new lover within reach.
All I wanted was to put this wedding ring back on.
You can romance the alcohol 'til the flying pigs come home, me--I'm romancing tears.
Call an alcoholic's bluff--you will lose.
Grievous Angel
Thread Starter
Join Date: Mar 2011
Location: The Old Line State
Posts: 53
A Savvy Blanc, as the Aussies say. Good call. I used Pinot Grigio because that's what was on hand.
I loved your note/poem.
I speak fluent redneck - I was raised with the notion that paying more than $2.00 a sixpack was wasting money. I grew up getting hammered on PBR and listening to George Jones, Merle Haggard. Beer and country music go together as closely as Marlboros and lung cancer.
I once got drunk on more than $1,000 of wine while eating Segruva with a mother of pearl spoon. My lover at the time had some scary but useful Russian friends. Fortunately he blew out of my life as suddenly as appeared.
Sounds like you've followed an arc similar to mine. Money doesn't make you happy, or at least the people I know with a great deal of money are no happier than the rest of us. It can, however, put a sleek sheen on the stark realities of life.
I hope you find what you're looking for, or that it finds you.
-GA
I loved your note/poem.
I speak fluent redneck - I was raised with the notion that paying more than $2.00 a sixpack was wasting money. I grew up getting hammered on PBR and listening to George Jones, Merle Haggard. Beer and country music go together as closely as Marlboros and lung cancer.
I once got drunk on more than $1,000 of wine while eating Segruva with a mother of pearl spoon. My lover at the time had some scary but useful Russian friends. Fortunately he blew out of my life as suddenly as appeared.
Sounds like you've followed an arc similar to mine. Money doesn't make you happy, or at least the people I know with a great deal of money are no happier than the rest of us. It can, however, put a sleek sheen on the stark realities of life.
I hope you find what you're looking for, or that it finds you.
-GA
Grievous Angel
Thread Starter
Join Date: Mar 2011
Location: The Old Line State
Posts: 53
Therapy
More like public therapy. Is it getting old? Every time I get the urge for a drink I sit down and write. It's just bubbling up like a spring.
Originally Posted by ChikkaB 
are you focus grouping your novel on this board?
Member
Join Date: Feb 2011
Location: central n00bistan
Posts: 121
Originally Posted by GreviousAngel
More like public therapy. Is it getting old? Every time I get the urge for a drink I sit down and write. It's just bubbling up like a spring.
Forward we go...side by side-Rest In Peace
Join Date: Jun 2002
Location: Serene In Dixie
Posts: 36,740
I guess my angels deal with God because as an
AA recovered alcoholic I no longer find drinking
interesting ...all obcession has been removed....
Hope everyone finds their way into a joy filled future.
AA recovered alcoholic I no longer find drinking
interesting ...all obcession has been removed....
Hope everyone finds their way into a joy filled future.
Grievous Angel
Thread Starter
Join Date: Mar 2011
Location: The Old Line State
Posts: 53
Ouch.
Ouch.
Originally Posted by ChikkaB
Not old, particularly; the format just makes it hard to discern the man behind the romance. Most folks who come here are less oblique in sharing their stories - it's rare that one walks into a recovery group and finds themselves in the middle of an Oprah's Book Club reading. But if this is where your sobriety is taking you, then please continue
Member
Join Date: Dec 2010
Location: San Diego
Posts: 4,451
I've been enjoying your posts, actually. I hear what Chikka's saying—I also like the post above about your redneck past (to use Ben Folds' phrase) because it's more direct, less open to interpretation.
So keep it all coming, far as I'm concerned. And if it's part of your recovery...then what I or anyone else says shouldn't matter one tiny bit.
Welcome to SR!
So keep it all coming, far as I'm concerned. And if it's part of your recovery...then what I or anyone else says shouldn't matter one tiny bit.
Welcome to SR!
Member
Join Date: Jun 2009
Posts: 413
Even non alcoholics stop and pick up again. Its where the alcoholic ends up after picking up again that drives us apart from the herd.
btw thanks for this thread, it has galvanized my problem I know how rigid my addiction now is.
btw thanks for this thread, it has galvanized my problem I know how rigid my addiction now is.
Currently Active Users Viewing this Thread: 1 (0 members and 1 guests)
