Me, every morning waking up after another long night –
I’m ready to be sober. I don’t want to keep doing this. It’s killing me.
Me, every night at around 7:30pm –
Alcohol is all I have. I could never be sober.
Why? Why does it have to be so hard?
How can I be so caught in the middle of two wildly opposing thoughts?
I want to feel better. That is the goal. Yet, the time of day seems to greatly influence what the definition of “better” might be.
Healed, whole, present…..or numb. Distant. Afraid. Keeping everyone away. Not having to deal with the hard head on.
It seems easy. It seems simple. Maybe it even seems obvious.
But when addiction has had your throat for the better part of 15 years? (And I’m not even yet 30?)
The answer gets a bit fuzzier.