Finishing Chapter Two and starting Chapter Three, this week’s reading focused on two parts of alcoholism with which I could readily relate. First, that no one ever saw my real drinking and second that denial allowed me to stay out there as long as I did. The author spoke at length about how she drank
Chaos has been in the fabric of my being since I was five years old. I didn’t understand it then but I was most definitely cultivating the art of creating it, developing an eye to spot it and seeking out people who responded to it. Chaos was my safe place long before booze and drugs
By Jackie S. The next installment of Caroline Knapp’s story digs deeper into the life of the functional alcoholic. She talks about the difference between perception and reality. How it looks to the world like she is holding it all together, but inside she is falling apart. Like the Smokey Robinson tune, she used humor
Our reading this week took us to the end of Chapter One and the beginning of Chapter Two. The joy of reading together like this, is the ability to share our stories and to look at the similarities we have with the author. I highly recommend this form of study to others as a wonderful
A recovery friend and I had heard about a book called Drinking: A Love Story, written by Caroline Knapp. As it suggests, it is a woman’s walk through alcoholism as a love affair, and how she had to remove herself from it. My hope is to write a bit about each chapter and share that
“My name is Damien, and I’m an alcoholic.” This is the conventional way to introduce oneself at a meeting of the fellowship. It bugs me. The very first time I said these words they were incredibly powerful and liberating — when I finally said them, my surrender was complete. But as my sober time increases,
I wonder sometimes, where I’d be now, if I hadn’t stopped drinking and popping xanax. I’ve been advised over and over not to “what if” myself into a bout of anxiety. I get anxious easily. But my mind goes there, now and then. Especially when things are going well. And things are going well right
Last night I drove to a meeting where I was asked to speak about my experience with addiction. That relentless butterfly in my stomach began flapping its wings a bit faster, my heart quickly followed suit. A growing anxiety that I would be the epic failure of the century. It was night, a silent static
Saturday, November 21, 2015 is the 6th anniversary of my last mind-altering substance taken for recreational purposes. I have said that to myself at least 20 times in the last two days. To me, that is a remarkable feat. I never thought it would happen. When I relapsed after 10 years dry, but not in
This October if I make it to October, because I take it one day at a time, I will be sober for two years. Back then, I was working full time in an office in the IT industry. I lived alone in a foreign country and entangled in a very co-dependant relationship with a friend
