11 months

I hit 11 months a couple of days ago.

Not sure what to say. My unsettledness of the past few months has faded, which I’ll take for as long as it cares to stay. I am amazed at how long this journey is. My first few attempts at quitting stopped four or five months in, in part because I didn’t know what more there was after the initial clawing of oneself out of the tentacles of the daily craving, and I got complacent. Still don’t know that much more, but thankfully am still floating down the sober river.

A few phrases that I hang onto:

“I am in awe of us.” (either Belle (http://www.tiredofthinkingaboutdrinking.com/) or a penpal of Belle’s)

“You will not drink. It doesn’t suit you.” (also Belle)

Phrases from “I Am Your Disease,” a poem posted yesterday by Anna at Storm in a Wine Glass

(Disease talking:) I want only to see that you’re brought to your knees…

I’ll steal every pleasure in life you’ve enjoyed…

I’ll sweep you through heaven, then drop you in hell…

Don’t take for granted my powers sublime, I’ll bend and I’ll break you, time after time…

So please don’t forget me, I won’t forget you, I’ll stand by your side watching all that you do, I’m ready and waiting, so call if you please…

Nice and cheery!! I encourage you to read the whole unchopped-up thing.

But this kind of language of warning is very useful and important for me right now. There’s a lot of alcohol around me right now (because I live in 21st century America). And I’m becoming increasingly aware of why I reached for that beer, so many times. I can feel what I was yearning for. (Hysterically, if you’re inside my head and a couple layers down.) The yearning is still there, for which I’m grateful — the outlines of human paths to growth grow clearer. But damn there’s pain in there.

I am in awe of us.

If you’ve stopped drinking, stay stopped. See what shapes and sounds and colors come out of your brain//mouth/hands/soul. And I will, too.



6 thoughts on “11 months

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