get sober

“JUST STOP IT”
haven’t I learned my lesson? Has everything gone to waste? I know I cant stop I just don’t want to, its either that or I want to stop I just cant. That’s a lie, I know exactly what i’m doing and this is going to turn out so much worse than last time, I know that when I say cutting down, I mean stop doing one thing and start with something worse. I know that when I say quitting I mean do it when I think I NEED it. I know that when I say i’m going cold turkey I mean I’m going on a fucking binge. Maybe the one that didn’t kill me last time will this time. Its not that I want it to be this way I just can’t stop. All the counseling and NA, CA, MA, whatever A groups couldn’t helps me. 18 months is a long time, a long time to BLOW IT. What was I thinking, I should have known should have known, SHOULD HAVE FUCKING KNOWN. Biting my lip to keep from grinding my teeth isn’t any better. Sitting on my hands to keep them from shaking isn’t really help; because now I cant stop rocking back and forth. I KNOW I need to stop, but I like it! I can’t stay off of it. And telling my self this week, I’m gonna be sober, doesn’t do shit. I can feel myself slipping, sliding, not even trying to make a feeble attempt to hang on. What day is it, Monday? Ohm well I already ruined it so I might as well binge like never before and start over next Monday, if it’s worn off by then. There’s no one to blame, and that’s the worst part. It’s always harder when you’re standing in your own way. I fell like everyone’s watching, pointing fingers and betting on how long it will last this time, whether ill be able to stick to it. It’s not even that, its everything else. I just want to run away, but run away and do WHAT? Give blowjobs for dope? That is not what I was raised to do. I’m a disgrace, a disappointment I never should have let this happen! If I could just take back that ONE time, all those years ago, if I could have seen what was going to happen if I kept doing this. I WISH I HOPE. Sometimes I wish I had a different life, I wish I was smarter, or prettier, or just plain HAPPY. But it’s useless to dream, because NOTHING ever changes. I hate talking like this, I sound like some white emo bitch that has everything but wants more. That’s not it, I don’t want more, I don’t know what I want, I just want to get rid of this! I wish I could put leeches on me and have them suck out the bad blood, the addictive personality trait that’s fucking me up so badly. Is it that though, can I put this all on my genes, no definitely not. I want to stop, but then I don’t, I want to get clean I want to change; I want to live past 16! I’m so young but I feel so old, I feel like I’m fading but not completely disappearing, just barely there, anyone can see right through me. Its like I’m falling off a cliff in slow motion, getting a great view of the rocks below which I am about to land on head first. I go to church every week on my own. No one forces me, no one convinces me. I go because I want to. I pray every night before I go to bed. I love my religion, I believe it completely. I repent when I sin. Is this a sin? I think so, but maybe not. I think it’s a sin to put the drugs before God and let it interfere with my religious practice. I wont dishonor my parents and run away, so I wont do that, but I don’t want them to find out about what I’ve been doing and be heartbroken. I don’t want to see the look on my moms face when she finds my drugs, my paraphernalia, or worse, me. She has no clue, and I intend to keep it that way. I don’t want to hurt her, and I definitely don’t want her to know that all the money she put into me going to rehab she might as well have poured gasoline on it and lit it up. I’m worse now than I was before, but that’s all my fault. I chose to do it again, and I want to stop, but I can’t make up my mind. Its like there’s two different versions of me fighting to the death inside my head. I want to keep this in the shadows. Don’t fucking give me that look, everyone has secrets, what? Like you don’t? Who are you trying to convince, you or me? I don’t feel for myself, I feel for everyone else. I bought food for a homeless person, I passed out food to homeless people, I repent! I love god! This isn’t happening to me, it’s just a figment of my imagination. I can I cant I can I don’t know! I want to say it’s just for fun, its nothing serious, Its ALL ONE BIG FUCKING PARTY! LIFES A GAME! No its not, to those who have been given much, much is expected! I give! I love! I feel! I need….I want to cry but the tears wont come. Everyone thinks “oh little Marissa you’re so innocent and sweet.” But I think, “if they only knew” if anyone knew. I play the good girl, the one who would never touch any drug, the one who wouldn’t beat your ass just for talking shit. Even when I’m not putting on that front, my party friends think its cool that I’m “experienced” but IF THEY ONLY KNEW. Withdrawals are not attractive, being high is not cute. But when I’m with them they make it ok, and I forget that I’m a good girl, I forget who I am, and when it wears off, I am left with nothing but this addiction clawing at me, sometimes I feel like its trying to eat its way out. Just ONE MORE TIME, JUST ONE MORE. One is too many, a thousand is never enough!!!I wish I may, I wish I might… if I could just help someone else maybe I could help myself. I don’t want to be like this, but it’s too much, I can’t handle it. That’s a lie; I’ve got this completely under control. I’m never gonna use again! Unless I’m with other people who are who can expect me to pass that up? But its really no big deal, this is fine, I’m totally ok.
Stop lying stop denying stop crying….enough is enough, enough is never enough.

It never really set in, I noticed that people kept telling me I needed to go to AA and all that. Everyone I know drinks. My life isn’t exactly upbeat. But I have other goals I need to accomplish that I can’t do unless I stop drinking. So I’m working at it.

Been sober for a few years, or, rather I should say independent. I don’t choose abstinence but I haven’t been an addict for a long time now. There is another way besides meetings and working the steps. You can call it “the Law of Attraction for Addicts” or 100% personal responsibility, or even “the art of rewiring your brain”

www.successforaddicts.com

I did not get sober on my own and it was not easy even with help – but it was absolutely worth it. I honestly am not sure that I’d be alive had I not stopped drinking and using. It’s now been nearly 6 years since I broke free from addiction. In that time, I have finished college, developed a career, become financially independent and I have gone through normal life difficulties like losing a job. I have not done great with everything and actually I am not a very happy person most of the time. Nevertheless, by not drinking and using, I know that I am at least giving myself the opportunity to live and make concious choices. I have really been slacking off lately in terms of going to meetings – and that is one thing I want to change. I almost always feel better when I go to a meeting.

i want to help me help stop drinking and make a turn around. no interest in livin the life of a dry drunk, been there done that, not even for too long and its almost as miserable. i want to be cleaned like someone would clean their car. but i want to go to a professional and have myself detailed versus just paying the fifty cents to use the vacuum at the car wash that doesn’t get everything

I know I’m drunk. I know I’ve “failed.” But is there any chance someone will give some sort of feedback before the night comes to a close? I’ll take anything: “fuck you,” “best of luck,” “hang in there,” “you got what you deserved,” “tomorrow’s another day;” anything?

Tomorrow morning, I’ll pull myself out of bed, dust of my boots and try again. But, or now, I could really use something to let me know that I’m not the only son-of-a-bitch who feels as though they are dying alone.

I really don’t like being drunk.
I’m better than this.
I’m better sober.
I want to be sober.
I want to better

[I remember being sober]

Why can’t I just be sober?
What is so fucking hard about being sober?
Why do I think the results will be different?

Why does it seduce me?
Why do I let it seduce me?
What do I lack?

[I remember autonomy]

Why do I let it take the better part of me?
Why do I forget the better part of me?
Why do I let it define me?

[I remember “self”]

Why am I writing this?
Why am still awake?
Why do I want just one more?

[I remember control]

Why am I more afraid of life
Than I am of death?

[I remember peace]

At this time of night
Sweat is comfortably cold
The tongue is thick
And reason is drowned
intentionally

At this time of night
One wishes for rain
the comfort
the release
the change
the sound

At this time of night
‘Hope’ is but another word
An artless verb
Another illusive construal
of that wished for
of that ostensibly deserved

Another illusive for
love
peace
God
water
medicine

At this time of night
I miss all I thought I was
all that I thought I could have been
all that lies hanging

in the balance…
at this time of night

At this time of night
I am completely
out of balance

At this time of night
I die
over
and over
again

How’s the wife and kids
At this time of night?

The last time I posted I had been sober for two days. The following day I drank (reasons why are, in the overall scope of things, trivial). After the “slip,” “fall” or whatever verb you’re comfortable with, I somehow managed to stay sober for six days. During that time I ran an accumulative 32 miles, walked through my days with a sense of peaceful energy, thought and communicated more clearly, reacquainted myself with an all but forgotten (and more positive) sense of day-to-day reality, functionally participated in the birthday party of an old “drinking buddy” while remaining sober (the drive home was cathartic, to say the least), read, researched, wrote and created more attentively and efficiently, retired at decent hours (genuinely tired) and awoke ready to “seize the day,” if you will. This evening, the tiny monsters got the best of me. Tonight, I drink.

Actually, it’s quite strange how a brief moment of craving, not at all unlike moments I’ve successfully defeated over the past week, so subtlety and effectively (for lack of better adverbs) “convinced” me to drink. It’s as though I had no say in the matter. I was diligently working on a project when, ostensibly out of nowhere, I was altogether preoccupied (consumed) with the notion that I NEED a drink; that, in light of the past week’s “accomplishments,” I “deserve” a drink: just one or two “night caps” and a decent cigar while unwinding to a vintage Coltrane recording. The tiny monsters will fuck up the best laid plans, no matter how seemingly romantic. The little bastards thrive on justification; I do know that much.

Unfortunately, I’ve no wisdom, insight or remedy to convey in this missive. Perhaps the only meaningful morsel that can be gleaned from the above is that there actually is a worthwhile existence above and beyond the one many of us have forged in the fog of alcohol. I’ve seen it. I’ve felt it. I thrived in it. I liked it. I want it. Sadly, though, I will awake tomorrow with a hangover. I will curse the fact that I failed. I will spend the better part of my day crippled by regret. The only thing that will ostensibly prevent my tomorrow from being a total loss is the fact that I remained sober for six whole days prior to my proverbial fall. If I can do it for six days, then, the gods be willing, I can do it for just one more.

The main thing I regret is that I failed to login to this site three hours ago.

Best of luck to you all,
I hope in some way this was of some help.
Goodnight

Thank you all so much for your support, emcouragments, confidenes and congatulations.

I beleive I had actually forgotten what it felt like to wake up withiout a hangover. I think I’ll go for a run, sober.

Today, I will not drink.