At the end, my only solution had been to drink. I had long since relinquished my ability to choose. No longer a luxury—alcohol was now a necessity. I worshipped and welcomed its presence in my body. A blackout, or an I-ran-out, brought the day to a close. Sometimes I would leave a little, and then I did not have to admit to drinking the whole bottle.
Alcohol was my master, me … its slave. Who would I be without my master? I knew I could not function. I had tried many times before. I loved my master and I hated my master—and this I caressed with each breath. I could not get away—yet I had to get away. I could no longer endure the perpetual aching.
Was it possible that I had a choice yet to be considered? I must, lest I be imprisoned forever. There must be another choice. But what could it be?
Anything!
Anything at all, except that which I have already chosen. I can choose anything, except drinking and drugging. If there are one hundred boxes in the room, why must I continue to choose the box that contains alcohol and drugs? Why do I ignore, truthfully reject, the other ninety-nine boxes in the room? Why do I stay obsessed with the one I exclaim I no longer want?
If the Universe had given me only one box to choose from, I would have felt so slighted by life’s prospects. Yet, I choose only this one—again and again. I witness others who have opened many boxes. Maybe they can show me how to begin the process of walking toward another box.
Madness I tell you. This is all madness. Or maybe it is not.
My problem isn’t that I can no longer have alcohol. My problem is that I have never attempted, in earnest, to discover what lies in the other boxes. What gifts rest unopened in the other ninety-nine boxes? I can have anything I want, except that which destroys me. No more destruction. I will learn to choose again. I will start with the box labeled #2.
Box #2 seems too difficult to open. But opening up box #1 (again) is entirely too agonizing. I must find the strength. I will find the strength. I will ask someone to teach me how to open #2.
There is another way. I don’t have to go through it alone, but I do have to go through it.
Millions find AA to be the solution to what you describe. Others read the web and recovery blogs until they feel safe enough to turn off the computer. Youc an make the correct choice-just have to keep at it and do it as if your life depended on it. It may well.
Lynda, Thanks for taking the time to read and comment. My sober journey began with a 12-step program and has grown from there. I am forever grateful to those who taught me to choose again—preferably something new! And yes, my life does depend upon this choice. With love, Lisa