Two Years.
Tomorrow is my Soberversary.
I will have been sober for two years.
An achievement, to be sure.
But holy fuck is it hard. So. Damn. Hard.
I'm an alcoholic. I know I can't have one drink and not have another.
So I abstain. And it kills me. Because I really fucking miss beer. And wine. God, I miss wine.
I've started buying funky, pretty wine glasses that I find at goodwill. I pour juice or soda or sometimes even water in them, and I pretend. And those few minutes when I'm on the balcony, smoking a cigarette, drinking my fake wine... Those are the best minutes of my day.
And that's a problem.
I had a panic attack in the grocery store not too long ago. I was looking for non-alcoholic beer.
I've finally found one I like. Kaliber. (Classy, right?)
Well, I must have spent twenty minutes in the beer aisle, just saying hello to old friends (micro-brews), before I realized that the store didn't carry what I was looking for.
So I walked ahead and turned left, to make a beeline for the door. But detoured in the wine section.g
And then the liquor section.
And then I got dizzy, and somehow ended up back in the beer section crying on my cell phone in the middle of a Safeway.
My room mate talked me down and got me out, but ballz...
There's so much anxiety that goes into not drinking.
I'm an extrovert! I need to go out, enjoy the nightlife, go dancing, kick ass at karaoke!
But it is So. Damn. Hard. to walk into a bar and not order a drink.
After accidentally being served a non-virgin margarita (strawberry! Mmmmm) at a restaurant a while back (Thank god my room mate noticed the smell), I've taken to having friends test my drinks first because I'm so paranoid.
I walk into a pub and I start shaking. My room mate leaves her empty wine bottles on the counter, and I want to lick them clean for any traces of Two Buck Chuck that might be lingering.
I'm an alcoholic. I can't take one drink and not have another.
You know that line in Jeff Buckley's "Hallelujah" about Samson...
"She tied you to the kitchen chair, she broke your throne and she cut your hair, and from your lips she drew..."
That's what it feels like.
Booze ties me down. The wanting, the depression, the anxiety, the weight of resistance.
They come upon me like Pinkerton Detectives. Depression on my left, Loneliness on my right.
They frisk me, and empty my pockets of any joy I may be carrying. Loneliness starts interrogating me. Why can't I get my act together? Where will I end up if I keep living this way?
Depression simply gives me a dark smile, settles into my favorite chair, puts his feet on the coffee table and lights a cigarette. Loneliness climbs into my bed. He's going to make me sleep with him tonight, I just know it. And I'm too tired to deal with their bullshit.
Two Years.
I've been sober for two years.
Can I do this for three? For ten? For a lifetime?
Drunk or not, Depression and Loneliness always stop in to say hi.
I hate AA. I hate the sharing, the platitudes, the obvious and unhealthy direction to simply replace one addiction with another. But one thing I took away from my (very) brief time with them...
I'm not going to drink today. And I'm going to wake up in the morning, and I'm not going to drink tomorrow.
That's all I need to worry about. Just today.
It's been Two Years. And I'm not going to drink today.
