Wow, I thought I was done with the whole falling-to-my-knees-and-crying-for-help scenario. I did that 2 1/2 years ago when I just could Not Continue Drinking anymore. Could not lie to myself that it was romantic to sit up every night with two bottles of pinor noir, tossing around the same old illusions and fantasies about what I would do with my life...maybe...someday. The reality of barely holding on to a mildly functional life (very mildly) was impossible to ignore. So I stopped. Wonderful, right?
Well, maybe if I had been able to commit to regular meetings, designate a home group, get a sponsor, do the steps... maybe I wouldn't be on my knees again, feeling just as heartbroken as I did back when I drained that last wine glass. Though I loathe the expression "dry drunk", (how unromantic! how unsexy!), that is clearly what I am. So, despite the time I've accumulated in not drinking, I really feel like counting days from Sunday, four days ago, when I walked into a meeting (first time in - wait for it - SIX months) and made a committment to get my ass into a chair as often as humanly possible. I make myself speak, sit in the middle, and stay long enough afterwards to get a few phone numbers (yet to call, but progress not perfection right?).
So, this blog - which I have longed to do for ages - is a necessity for me. I need to write, track my effors, and communicate with others in recovery any way I can. As devestated as I feel, I am so so hopeful and very blissed to embark on this journey, finally...
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