Would I go back? Day 102
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Join Date: Feb 2015
Posts: 1,188
Would I go back? Day 102
Some days, this question doesn't come up at all. Some days, I need to answer this question once, on occasion, more than once. However, in the first days, I had to answer that question couple of times an hour, at times even every five or ten minutes.
When I hit 'three digits', I thought, firstly, there would be a big 'hoorah!' in it for me and secondly, I would have a clear summary of things to write up. Neither of those things really happened.
The 'hoorah!' became unnecessary when I (re)realised that I wasn't being sober for someone else. It's not, and never was, a project with a due date. Of course, initially, I still had the common thoughts of 'Well, I can still go back in the future, right? I mean, this doesn't have to be forever, you know, just a much-needed breather'. So, how many would constitute enough days or months, before I could go back? Was it at 30? 60? 90? Any other number I might reach in the future?
Weirdly so, it is actually fairly difficult to summarise a small part of your life, which does not have a build-up towards a finish, but just a common underlying theme. It would be a lot easier to summarise, actually, if this were a 'project', something similar to Sober September or the like.
But then again, it's as if Someone wanted me to have a summary for which I didn't need too much thinking, just reporting back contents of the last 24 hours. It started with me, at the gas station, at about 2 a.m last night.
For whatever reason, I wanted a tortilla, sweets and mineral water. In the middle of the night. Since I wasn't particularly sleepy anyways, I decided to go to the only place still open - the gas station. Now, given that the sale of alcohol here is prohibited after 10 p.m (unless it's a bar), no other shops would keep their doors open anyways. But there are ways, under law, to by-pass the ban of selling alcohol. For example, gas stations place tables and chairs in their sales area - light bulb! now it's a cafe! - so they can sell booze at whatever hour a buyer fancies. Must admit, in the past, I have been happy about them having discovered the loophole on more than a single occasion.
As I was standing there, waiting for my tortillas, my eyes drifted towards the small section they've set up for booze. Jäger. Vodka. Bubbly. All with double the usual price and half the size. Now - enter the hefty scholarship money I'd received a day earlier. And my mind wandered. What if? 'It's the middle of the night, I don't have to do anything tomorrow, I've got plenty of money, it's cold (so Jäger or vodka would be right on the money, right?), I'm sort of bored and .. who would know?'
'Shut up, idiot', another voice spoke up in my head. There followed a discussion between the AV and Day 101. The AV retreated, my tortillas were ready, I thanked the lady at the counter and walked home. Went to sleep at about 6 a.m.
Cue next afternoon. When I was lingering a bit too much on the Jäger-thought at the gas station and thought I had to do nothing the next day, I had actually forgetten that today was our 'monthly family dinner' night - something I initiated in September, hoping it would become a sort of tradition. First, I wanted to cancel, because I was tired. But once again, I realised what I had started this monthly event for - my sobriety. Family is a pillar of my sobriety and I wasn't going to let sleepiness break the chain. (As my mother told me later, my sis had sounded quite sad on the phone when she heard we probably wouldn't be having dinner - so it has become a nice tradition!)
A delicious meal later, I was on the bus back home. Drunks, as we all know, don't really care about stats such as 'the day of the week' or 'the time of day', so you are bound to run into at least one when you're out and about. There was a man on the bus - completely drunk, staggering, mumbling, trying to strike up a conversation with random people whilst holding on to a huge bottle of the cheapest, most disgusting beer (I'm writing from experience, not the 'social stigma assessment' perspective). He went - or I should really say, tried courageously to get - off the bus half way to my stop. He slipped, fell, dropped his bottle and somehow dropped the second 'bomb' he had in his bag as well. I didn't feel sorry for him, but I wished he would some day understand that there's another way.
Some time after that stop and before I got off the bus, I asked myself the question 'Would I go back?'.
Would I go back to slipping out of a bus? Or being randomly unreachable on a crispy cold Sunday night? Spend my last euro on cheap, disgusting beer and then try to bum cigarettes off people at the bus station only to be met with 'You had money for beer - should have bought cigarettes then, too'? Go back to being distant with my family? Back to ... getting 'those looks'? Worse still, giving myself 'those looks' after I've realised what I had done the night before.
Instead, I used the bit of extra money I had to buy boots for my sister as a Christmas present. We had laughs, discussion, a good meal as a family. Nothing beats getting back the respect of my sister - her 'looks' were the hardest to bear when I was drinking, because (she is also stubborn, though) she is the most principled person I know. We have actually never been closer than we are now.
I have my family back. I have ME back.
So - after how many days would it be okay for me to throw all of that away again?
If you are just starting out and maybe still undecided about whether 'this is forever' ... if drinking alcohol - however right, justified, suitable, traditional, acceptable, social, fun, relaxing, relieving, comforting, helpful or necessary it might seem in the moment - rips you away from your friends and family, destroys you yourself with every passing day, isolates you from genuine feelings, from self-respect and dignity ... Would you go back?
When I hit 'three digits', I thought, firstly, there would be a big 'hoorah!' in it for me and secondly, I would have a clear summary of things to write up. Neither of those things really happened.
The 'hoorah!' became unnecessary when I (re)realised that I wasn't being sober for someone else. It's not, and never was, a project with a due date. Of course, initially, I still had the common thoughts of 'Well, I can still go back in the future, right? I mean, this doesn't have to be forever, you know, just a much-needed breather'. So, how many would constitute enough days or months, before I could go back? Was it at 30? 60? 90? Any other number I might reach in the future?
Weirdly so, it is actually fairly difficult to summarise a small part of your life, which does not have a build-up towards a finish, but just a common underlying theme. It would be a lot easier to summarise, actually, if this were a 'project', something similar to Sober September or the like.
But then again, it's as if Someone wanted me to have a summary for which I didn't need too much thinking, just reporting back contents of the last 24 hours. It started with me, at the gas station, at about 2 a.m last night.
For whatever reason, I wanted a tortilla, sweets and mineral water. In the middle of the night. Since I wasn't particularly sleepy anyways, I decided to go to the only place still open - the gas station. Now, given that the sale of alcohol here is prohibited after 10 p.m (unless it's a bar), no other shops would keep their doors open anyways. But there are ways, under law, to by-pass the ban of selling alcohol. For example, gas stations place tables and chairs in their sales area - light bulb! now it's a cafe! - so they can sell booze at whatever hour a buyer fancies. Must admit, in the past, I have been happy about them having discovered the loophole on more than a single occasion.
As I was standing there, waiting for my tortillas, my eyes drifted towards the small section they've set up for booze. Jäger. Vodka. Bubbly. All with double the usual price and half the size. Now - enter the hefty scholarship money I'd received a day earlier. And my mind wandered. What if? 'It's the middle of the night, I don't have to do anything tomorrow, I've got plenty of money, it's cold (so Jäger or vodka would be right on the money, right?), I'm sort of bored and .. who would know?'
'Shut up, idiot', another voice spoke up in my head. There followed a discussion between the AV and Day 101. The AV retreated, my tortillas were ready, I thanked the lady at the counter and walked home. Went to sleep at about 6 a.m.
Cue next afternoon. When I was lingering a bit too much on the Jäger-thought at the gas station and thought I had to do nothing the next day, I had actually forgetten that today was our 'monthly family dinner' night - something I initiated in September, hoping it would become a sort of tradition. First, I wanted to cancel, because I was tired. But once again, I realised what I had started this monthly event for - my sobriety. Family is a pillar of my sobriety and I wasn't going to let sleepiness break the chain. (As my mother told me later, my sis had sounded quite sad on the phone when she heard we probably wouldn't be having dinner - so it has become a nice tradition!)
A delicious meal later, I was on the bus back home. Drunks, as we all know, don't really care about stats such as 'the day of the week' or 'the time of day', so you are bound to run into at least one when you're out and about. There was a man on the bus - completely drunk, staggering, mumbling, trying to strike up a conversation with random people whilst holding on to a huge bottle of the cheapest, most disgusting beer (I'm writing from experience, not the 'social stigma assessment' perspective). He went - or I should really say, tried courageously to get - off the bus half way to my stop. He slipped, fell, dropped his bottle and somehow dropped the second 'bomb' he had in his bag as well. I didn't feel sorry for him, but I wished he would some day understand that there's another way.
Some time after that stop and before I got off the bus, I asked myself the question 'Would I go back?'.
Would I go back to slipping out of a bus? Or being randomly unreachable on a crispy cold Sunday night? Spend my last euro on cheap, disgusting beer and then try to bum cigarettes off people at the bus station only to be met with 'You had money for beer - should have bought cigarettes then, too'? Go back to being distant with my family? Back to ... getting 'those looks'? Worse still, giving myself 'those looks' after I've realised what I had done the night before.
Instead, I used the bit of extra money I had to buy boots for my sister as a Christmas present. We had laughs, discussion, a good meal as a family. Nothing beats getting back the respect of my sister - her 'looks' were the hardest to bear when I was drinking, because (she is also stubborn, though) she is the most principled person I know. We have actually never been closer than we are now.
I have my family back. I have ME back.
So - after how many days would it be okay for me to throw all of that away again?
If you are just starting out and maybe still undecided about whether 'this is forever' ... if drinking alcohol - however right, justified, suitable, traditional, acceptable, social, fun, relaxing, relieving, comforting, helpful or necessary it might seem in the moment - rips you away from your friends and family, destroys you yourself with every passing day, isolates you from genuine feelings, from self-respect and dignity ... Would you go back?
Giving up is NOT an option.
Join Date: Jan 2015
Location: Western Wisconsin
Posts: 7,808
Wow - That was a very moving post. Pretty much sums up how I feel about sobriety. There might not be celebrations when we reach milestones, but we can rest easy in the knowledge that we are doing the next right things for ourselves and the people we love (and who love us). The gratitude I feel on a daily basis when I see people who are still stuck where I used to be can still choke me up and nearly bring me to tears.
Thank you for so nicely putting that into words.
Thank you for so nicely putting that into words.
Member
Join Date: Dec 2016
Posts: 81
Amazing post.
I'm on day four and I have given in to those voices when I get about 30 days in. This has given me tons to think about since I also have a family.
Thanks for your words!
You have helped me get through the next few hours andd hopefully the day!
K
I'm on day four and I have given in to those voices when I get about 30 days in. This has given me tons to think about since I also have a family.
Thanks for your words!
You have helped me get through the next few hours andd hopefully the day!
K
Member
Join Date: Apr 2013
Posts: 669
Great post. I completely understand the "unreachable nights". I live 7 hours from my family so it's easy to "hide" the alcoholism. My mom knows, we don't talk about it and she pretends not to know, but I know she knows.
There are often times when I don't respond to a text because I've took a nap aka passed out. I love my family and know I could be so much more active with them if I wasn't drinking. Even from far away.
This was a very enlightening and helpful post. Thank you.
There are often times when I don't respond to a text because I've took a nap aka passed out. I love my family and know I could be so much more active with them if I wasn't drinking. Even from far away.
This was a very enlightening and helpful post. Thank you.
thanks! haha
Member
Join Date: Apr 2012
Posts: 1,323
I have my family back. I have ME back
This is it for me. When i was drinking at the end...My family was saying things like we have to cut you off. And it was to protect themselves from me. They didn't know what was going to happen next.
My Mom and Dad, and my little sister. Almost cut off from my life because Alcohol meant more.
Today i'm 23.5 months sober. And celebrating a 2nd consecutive sober Christmas.
I'm never going to drink again. My family and myself mean too much.
This is it for me. When i was drinking at the end...My family was saying things like we have to cut you off. And it was to protect themselves from me. They didn't know what was going to happen next.
My Mom and Dad, and my little sister. Almost cut off from my life because Alcohol meant more.
Today i'm 23.5 months sober. And celebrating a 2nd consecutive sober Christmas.
I'm never going to drink again. My family and myself mean too much.
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