I am sharing this amazing post because BNW captures to perfection the hellish, brutal and vicious cycle of the active alcoholic. And I’m also sharing for a selfish reason- so I might have quick access should the insanity begin to whisper to me once again.
I originally wrote the following in Spring 2016. It’s been sitting as a draft ever since, though I’ve returned to it from time to time…like someone studying the pages of an old photo album. As I settle into my second year of sobriety, it’s become more and more difficult to remember what it looked like – the inside of the struggle and how it all felt. This piece serves as a witness to that history.
What am I so afraid of? What is it that I fear? What is so grotesquely difficult about being alone with my thoughts sans booze? I’ve read enough to know my drinking has something to do with fear (what fucking fear?! what is it, already!?!) But right now, my biggest fear is that I’ve crossed some invisible line and no longer maintain control over the urge to stop at the store on my way…
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