A Not So Perfect High - 5 years later
A Not So Perfect High - 5 Years Later
I see myself walking down the same street I’ve walked down many times before. Nothing’s changed. It’s the same street. Same stores. Same liquor store, one that has never interested me before because it’s filled with things I can’t have, or rather, let’s say, things I choose not to have. But something is different this time. I really notice the liquor store. I can almost hear a Scotch bottle whispering my name.
Well, then, beam me up, Scotty.
I see myself walking into the store, picking up a couple of bottles of Scotch and two bottles of wine, paying for them and walking back out onto the street. I have been feeling kind of down lately, maybe bored, frustrated, but nothing new has happened that has thrown my life into a more of a tailspin than it’s been in for quite a long time. I was coping with it all until today, but it seems that I’ve suddenly fallen into a trance and decided to get drunk.
I watch myself go home and take out my favorite Scotch glass and fill it to the brim. I make a toast to the ether and take a small taste. Ah, yes, the familiar warm feeling in the back of my throat. I remember that well. As the sips turn into gulps, a wonderful painless state begins to permeate my body. Free at last. No pain. No fear. No anxiety. Nothing to face. Nothing to work out. Loneliness vanishes. How could I have stayed sober for so many years? Why did I bother? Did I forget how completely perfect it is to get high, to forget, to feel nothing?
But soon, something begins to eat at me. I’m edgy. Uncomfortable. No, I don’t want to remember my friendships, the hard work I put into changing my life, the years of tears and struggle, the numerous panic attacks I overcame, those peak moments when I conquered my fears. No! I gulp down my drink and quickly pour another and another until I can’t remember how many drinks I’ve had or what it was I was trying to forget.
I see myself waking up the next morning slumped over the table, nauseated, depressed, scared, lonely. I can’t call anyone. I’m too ashamed. I can’t admit I did this. I open up the bottle of Scotch and quickly gulp down another drink. Yes, I can just keep doing this. I can forget. Please don’t let me remember why I got sober in the first place. Please don’t let me feel the pain of throwing away all those years of sobriety. I can’t face myself. I can’t face anyone else. I’ll just keep drinking until everything disappears. Until I disappear.
And then this really strange thing happens. I find myself standing outside that same liquor store. It gradually dawns on me that I never did go in. I never bought the booze. I never got drunk. It was all just a fantasy. I was temporarily in the grips of a completely unexpected urge that tried to send me reeling down a slippery slope of temptation. But I didn’t go there.
What brought on that unexpected urge? I had been thinking about the morning, my beloved partner, David, woke up with a terrible headache. Within a couple of minutes, he lost his balance and fell down because unbeknownst to me, he had just suffered a brain hemorrhage that would kill him in the next 24 hours. We never had a chance to say goodbye to each other. I felt robbed of my life and my love. I felt like David was my main reason to stay alive and I wasn’t sure I could live without him.
So why didn’t I drink? While I was staring in the window of the liquor store, I used one of the tools I learned at Smart Recovery many years ago from Dawg, an online facilitator. I learned to play the tape all the way to the end of the story. And when I saw the consequences of that ending, I knew it would never be worth it. The only benefit would be a few minutes of feeling numb and then it would all turn into a train wreck. A long and costly train wreck.
The day David died, I promised him that I would never drink, no matter what happened. Somehow, I would live through this loss and the sorrow it would bring. I had no idea how I was going to do it, but there was one thing I did know – I had a choice. I could choose to drink, or I could choose not to drink.
Shortly after David died, I contacted a number of people at SMART to let them know about my loss and to ask for their support. Within a couple of months, I became a volunteer at the SMART headquarters in Australia. I needed somewhere to go, and I needed to be with like-minded people that I could be open with about my addictive behavior. Volunteering in the office gave me a perfect opportunity to be useful to other people and to feel that I was in a safe environment. Sometimes I broke down crying while I was helping with the paperwork. My behavior was accepted, and I was supported during those times. I will always be grateful for that.
I attended SMART face to face meetings in Sydney and that was another thing that helped me put the pieces of my life back together. I began to find a reason to live on my own without a mate. Gradually, by continuing to use the SMART tools, I’ve learned more and more about my addictive behaviors and how to live a fulfilling life without using or drinking. When I came back to the States, I completed the SMART Facilitator training and volunteered as an Online Meeting Helper.
I never thought I would find living so worthwhile as I do right now. Because of SMART, I have found a way to be responsible for my own actions, to be more loving, and more productive than I have ever been before. I feel healthier and more energetic than I’ve felt for years. Today, I love going to bed sober and I also love waking up without a hangover.
Nothing can make me drink. I am totally sure of that. And so far, I’ve been right. Despite my numerous losses and a diagnosis of Chronic Leukemia, I haven’t had a drink for over 14 years.
I tip my hat to you SMART Recovery with the greatest respect for all that you do. I don’t know how I could have come this far without you. I will do everything I can to let the world know about you, about your wonderful tools, your gifted trainers, facilitators and volunteers, and your philosophy that never judges, does not render me powerless and gives me the freedom to determine how I want to manage my own sobriety.
SMART Recovery, you will always have my deepest gratitude.
And for those of you who are struggling with your addictive behaviors, I know you can stay clean and sober. It's your choice.
Sending my heart to all of you ❤️
questor7
