“Actually, I hated drinking; I loved the escape.”
When this statement fell out of my mouth this weekend, I was just as shocked at its bluntness as I was taken aback by the veracity of the statement. The truth is I have hated alcohol from an early age.
I remember mistakingly grabbing a grown-up’s drink at a younger age than I was even allowed to be in school. I recall the Pepsi cup flying out of my hands and as far away from me as possible at the horrible taste that most certainly was not soda. To this day the taste of wine makes me want to hurl.
I remember the first time I unknowingly drank spiked punch, thinking I was going to die from the inside. Then shortly after feeling like I would die from laughter which turned into feeling as if my bladder would burst. Until finally, the next morning I circled back to feeling like dying on the inside. I think I was ten.
Later, even in my thralls of addiction I didn’t have a ‘favorite’ drink, I had access to a full liquor cabinet and once the vodka and rum were gone, I never touched the rest. I wasn’t so hard up for alcohol that I have ever drunk cough syrup ( I’m not even sure if people really do that).
Don’t get me wrong, I drank, and consistently; but I drank with the goal to get really drunk, really quick. I would power-hour shots of vodka and tequila for about the first ten to fifteen shots. What I have referred to in a previous post (found here) as serial-shotting. Then, while the blackout would start to settle in, I continued to slowly (or slower than a shot a minute) consume more alcohol until I would just wake up in the morning covered in some sort of viscous substance I had vomited all over.
Yeah, it’s pretty ugly to admit, but that’s part of the healing process. All of the honesty is part of the journey we take on this recovery road. (Being real with myself <-click to read by Emerging From The Dark Night is a sagacious read for anyone, but especially for anyone looking for more insight into a self-journey)
I’ve said it before and it really does ring true time and time again for everyone in recovery;
-real successful recovery lies in your ability to be completely brutally honest with your own demons and face them. Essentially honesty is a big part of H.O.W. to recover. (shout out to Tim @ Recovery river for posting a full blog about this acronym and H.O.W to Recover)
I’m not talking recovery that ends in countless relapses and shaky restarts, I’m talking about the recovery that happens when we don’t want to use anymore. When things in life are in such a state that we don’t need to ‘escape’ the reality by any and all means necessary.
At some point, we all reach a breaking point, and when you get to that point, you will realize that even you are sick of your own BS. So stop. Be done with it. Admitting the truth is the least fatal thing you can do with yourself, and actually, one of the most self-respecting acts you can do.
At the end of the day, you will only have yourself to travel your journey with, so you might as well get comfortable with your co-pilot (i.e. your intuition.) The only way to do that is clear the airwaves with brutal honesty, sit with it, accept what has happened and move forward.
You don’t have to continue to do something that clearly is hurting you in some aspect of your life.
-life is too short for that.
Life doesn’t ever stop, wait, let up, or pause for a break in the action; and thank the higher power in existence for that!