The inevitable has finally come. A moment of sudden introspect a brought me reeling back to reality. I am taking a ‘code 19’ tomorrow at work because of my drinking habits. This will make the 20th relapse it seems. I guess that’s all part of an addiction to a large degree — insanity. It’s insane that I keep telling myself that’ll it’ll be okay each time. Each time, it’ll continues to get so bad that a breaking point will finally come. Calling into work has usually been my breaking point. Luckily, work, and my partner are the two things that has always brought me back, but there was a time in the not so distant past that I was on a 3 year bender, 18-21, which I liked to never recover from. I have to remember that to know that the situation is not so passive as it has been, and that there is a ticking time bomb that is always on the verge of going off.
It’s not that right before each jump I feel like things will be different, like I can suddenly handle my alcohol, but it’s more of a sense of a ‘reset’ that I long for. I think that mostly, whereas the three year bender I was trying to escape myself, I more so crave this drunken roller coaster ride as a gage to know whether I’m truly high, or truly low in life. Even keel living kills me.
I will always have this intense sense of elation after I write off the alcohol, knowing that I’m about to embark on another attempt at stepping up to the plate. Generally, I have always lacked the motivation and sense of gratification to engage in constructive activities like writing, exercising, eating right, meditating, reading, yoga, singing, dancing — the precepts to feeding the human spirit, but it is always the beginning of my sobriety the propels me in knowing that they are necessary to break from the bonds of addiction. I have not quite reached the point to where I know that these things are what I need if I really want to flourish, as well. I get to a point to where I’m comfortable, and that comfort is always the beginning to the end.
I have to find a way not to allow myself to forget where I’ve been and where I am without the alcohol. I believe that I am stuck in the stage of not knowing that the fruits of labor do not come without toil and time. Really, though, the only way to truly get there to realize what delayed gratification produces, is just doing. I look for this ‘motivation’ but I guess I have to move on from that process of thinking, to where grit finds its foothold.
I know that some can accept the status quo, and be fine blowing through life, but maybe this is a mutiny of my soul to get me to wake the f*&k up, to tell me, “no, you are not just going to be a bumbler,” that it’ll take me down the path of destruction, whether partial, or complete, to realize that.