stardustx

I remember my early sobriety. I came into the program in early 1984. I thought it was easy, just don’t drink. Boy oh boy, was I in for a rude awakening. It wasn’t undoable, but it really did take a conscious effort on my part. It took the better part of a year before I was comfortable with the person that I was becoming. And about another six months before I realized that I liked the person I had become. I kept going to meetings for the first year, then stopped. Not because of anything in particular, but because I felt that I had my addiction to alcohol licked. I became a ‘dry drunk’, meaning that yes, I was sober, but not working or being involved in ‘the program’ and so I was in fact headed for a relapse. It took the better part of fifteen years for that to happen, and believe me, no one was more surprised than I. I used to say that for me, the idea of drinking ever again was like me flying to the moon? Wasn’t going to happen. Star had the issue licked. Yeah, right.
Fast forward to 1999. Well, Star came here to New Hampshire, got her feelings hurt and her heart broke and picked up and drank. I felt “broken” as a person. It is the only time in my life that I have ever felt that way. I really mean broken, like a piece of Waterford crystal smashed into a thousand pieces.
My relapse lasted maybe a month or so, and but for the grace of God, I saw where I was headed and it scared the holy crap out of me! I guess I’m fortunate in that even in my worst, drunken moments, I am very self-preserving. I would buy the little vodka ‘snips’, little bottles with just an ounce or two of beverage, figuring that it wasn’t enough to get me drunk. However, since it had been so long since I drank, I had no tolerance for it. One snip and I was feeling pretty good, figuring “Yeah, I can handle this”. I had to stop the pain I was in, I didn’t think it was ever going to go away. I hurt so bad, I was lost in it. A week after my first drink in 17 years, I bought a pint, not much, ‘not enough to get me drunk.’ It still amazes me the power that my own sick mind has to deceive me, play with me, lead me to do something so self-destructive! My sick, sick mind at work.
About three weeks into my relapse, I went to the liquor store with every intent of buying a fifth and telling myself that that would be the last bottle I bought. Yeah, right. I knew at that time that I was making a choice, but I just didn’t care. Not about anything, I just wanted to feel ‘good, better’ and I didn’t care what it took. I chickened out on the fifth, figured with my luck I’d get stopped with an open container, and instead bought two snips. Drank them on my way to work in Connecticut, and right before I got to the club, I stopped at the liquor store down the street and bought two more snips to get me through the shift. Well, while at work I actually asked a new dancer who didn’t know I was an alcoholic to get me a shot of vodka, - she did. By the time 7pm rolled around I had a pretty good buzz going on, and the bar manager, who knew I was an alcoholic, had figured out that I had this buzz going on. She looked at me strangely and asked me if I was OK to drive home to NH and I told her, ‘Sure’. I was OK, but barely. I drove home and it was definitely a “But for the grace of God” drive. I had to really work on my driving skills and I did get home safely. He was looking out for me, I knew it and decided not to push my luck.
I went to a meeting the next day and now it’s been 4 ½ years that I’ve been back in the program. I stay close to it because I know what the alternative is. I know what I have to lose. I again have come to love the person I am.