14 years

Although I had rather a disturbed night, I feel quite well this morning. I got up at a reasonable time – although eight is only reasonable after having woken around ten for the past couple of days.

I’m not sure what I want to do today – tackle the lounge? The weather is fickle, again. It was sunny and warm (though not too hot) earlier, now the sky is overcast and there’s a cool breeze blowing through the lounge (I’ve opened a window). It’s a bit weird, dark skies with thunder and lightning to the south, blue skies with a few white clouds on the north. It started raining – great big blobs of water coming down, now it’s turned into a light drizzle. Ten minutes later it’s a sunny day again, though dark clouds still cover the northern sky.

I’ve done a load of laundry, changed the sheets on the bed – with the inquisitive help of both Mips – and am going to launder everything I’ve pulled off the bed. I’ve also turned the mattress.

Washing the bath mat is always a bit of an issue, since it’s quite heavy – but doesn’t fill the machine. It tends to bounce around during the spin cycle, occasionally unbalancing the machine. So I’ve added it to the heavy blanket I store under the sheets on top of the mattress. Yes, store – saves wardrobe space. When I picked it up, I saw the floor underneath is covered in sand – my bathroom looks like a sand box! So, forget the lounge, bathroom first.

So then, why is the heading today ’14 years’? Simple, 14 years ago yesterday was the last time I got drunk. April fools day – there was plenty foolish, but nothing funny about it. I remember this day, 14 years ago, like it was yesterday. Coming to in the morning, feeling physically crap – hangover’s aren’t pleasant! Shouldering my daily burden of shame, guilt and hopelessness while my mind added another load to that burden – playing flashbacks relentlessly. And with each flashback the burden got heavier and heavier … and I just wanted out. The only way out I knew at that time – I wanted to die.

Life was nothing but a daily struggle, there was no pleasure, no joy. No reason to go on – except the human spirit determined to survive. I had tried to quit drinking – and failed. Again and again. I had tried controlling my drinking – and failed. Not every time, though. There were occasions, when I didn’t go overboard – occasions which renewed my determination to keep fighting, renewed my hope that I could win. I remember being called weak, weak minded, weak spirited, lacking character – so much and so relentlessly, I doubted myself.

Looking back at how hard I fought, when I thought alcohol was my enemy, and for how many years – I gotta laugh at those who call that weak!

Trying to use willpower to overcome alcoholism is like trying to use willpower to overcome the effect of laxatives! Try swallowing a box of laxatives – then use your willpower to avoid crapping!

So what happened 14 years ago, today? Did I find that extra ounce of willpower ‘normal’ people have? Did I make a decision to stop drinking? No. There isn’t enough willpower in any single person to overcome alcoholism. You don’t tell diabetics to ‘get over it’, or ‘just control yourself’.

What did happen, is that I gave up. Absolutely and completely. I wanted out. I had tried everything in my power – there was nothing left. I was powerless.

And that admission of absolute defeat, without reservation – was the turning point, although I didn’t know it then. Then, I pulled myself together, shouldered my life-long collection of burden and went on with my day.

Suddenly, out of seemingly nowhere, the words “I need help” came out of my mouth. I was as surprised as the person I said them to – that certainly wasn’t on my mind at the time! Having said those words, my pride would not let me leave it at that. I made a phone call, and found out that help can be found in four days – time and place. When the time came, through an unintentional mistake, I would be late by the time I realized the mistake. I had two choices: Go now, even though I would be a bit late, or postpone for a week. I looked outside, it was pouring with rain. I don’t like driving unknown streets in such weather – I was considering postponing … and knew that “It’s now or never”. I had to choose. I chose now.

Those were the two – seemingly insignificant – incidents that brought me to sobriety. No flash and glamour, no dramatic oath – just admittance of absolute defeat, followed by a deliberate decision.

Alcohol is not my enemy, nor is it my problem – alcohol was my solution to the problem of ‘me’. I no longer publicly celebrate my sobriety anniversary – but each year I remember that day, and I reflect on how much I’ve grown this past year.

Have I grown in the past twelve months? That evaluation, however, I will not share here. Alcoholism is like a down-conveyor … if you stand still, you will be carried back down. I don’t live in fear, or ever-vigilant of alcohol – but I do work on continuous growth. I know I have another drunk in me – but I don’t know whether I have another recovery in me. I don’t want to find out.

Well, the weather has turned again, it’s unpleasantly windy and partially overcast. The overcast being directly above – with blue skies around the horizon as far as I can see, on both sides. I don’t wish to go into the garden, so at least this strange weather is not messing with my day.

The bathroom floor is clean, litter box is clean, the bedroom looks most inviting with the clean floor, clean bedding and – for once – a made bed! I don’t usually make my bed, I much prefer comfy. Anyway, the cats have already burrowed and played on the made bed, so it’s already comfy. Now I just have to see to dinner and pack my lunch for tomorrow. Oh, and later, I should take the rubbish out – I’ve already taken one bag down. I’ve left the other one here outside the door, so I don’t forget.

Right, dinner was delicious and I still have enough for tomorrow. Lunch is packed. I’ve showered – with both Mips in inquisitive attendance. Two loads of laundry are hanging to dry, third one is on a wash-and-dry cycle. Time to wind down and accept the invitation of my bed.