Today I woke up at 4am and took a drink, then at 6, and then at 8, but at 8 I became angry. At 8 I became scared. All the wrongs I caused over the last few weeks of my relapse came flooding to the surface. I felt a sting in my heart that said I was weak. Generally, I tell myself lies. That I am strong, and I can get through this on my own without anyone. Because in my mind, and maybe others, strength looks a lot like control, poise, and obvious. I drove to the hospital, and felt "strong", but I wasn't strong. I was asking for help, but still in awe at my willingness to go through such pain to become sober. Felt the ego of checking off the first step to recovery. However, it wasn't the first step to recovery because I wasn't admitting I was truly powerless over alcohol and that my life had become unmanageable. Through clenched teeth, the shakes, and sweats I felt as though THIS WAS ME managing my alcohol, and the life I so willingly tore apart on almost a regular basis. I got home, and I realized that though I sobered up my voice was still big. My ego still believing I was starting my path to recovery. I started to watch these meetings over and over all day. Read all about alcohol, and checked out therapy clinics. It wasn't until I let myself cry alone, I realized how weak I truly was. That if I didn't change this ego and pride, again I would fall on the sword of my own damaged mind. Another meeting showed up. I hadn't spoken to God in awhile so at first I barely listened to what the Serman was about, but as people started to come on I began to listen and feel just how weak I was. God was so close to me in their words. 10 minutes before it was over I got on and began to sob. Strength in my eyes had become about being perfect so that someone would love me. I spoke a few words to God before we closed. A deity I thought had forgotten me a long time ago, but it wasn't that he forgot me. All this time I had been hiding from him. The first step in admitting I was powerless was revealing itself in true form. I am weak. Carry me God. Your child is tired and unkempt. I'm so weak even now I can barely fathom letting him in, my parents words ringing in my head that believing in God was a weakness. No.......my weakness is not giving my life over to him, and letting him heal what I've become. Empty, without him. Constantly seeking love from someone other than the father. I am weak. I am powerless. My life has become unmanageable. I'm so scared he will reject me. I'm so scared I will fall. I am not strong. These choices today were ones of a feeble attempt to fix something that isn't mine to fix. I need to be ok with being weak, and ask him to come in to my heart and mind. I want to drink, I want to lie to myself and say I can fix this, but I cannot. So God please come into my heart. Guide me to your love. Your child wants to come home. That little girl wants you to enter into her heart and accept that without you I will fall again. Just now, while writing this, I went to scratch my back just now, and my hands clasped together, and I prayed. I am weak, Oh Lord! Carry me, because I can't do this.
Author
Cheesevixen