Hello! I wrote this introduction and started this blog in September of 2009. As you will see, now almost 9 years later, I’ve continued to drink…

I originally wrote this as the introduction:

This blog is the tale of a drunk. It will document either my deliverance or demise from what some people in our culture call the “Demon-Drink”; ALCOHOL.

I’m in my mid-fifties and had my first taste of alcohol when I was about six, but have been drinking steadily since I was 19. I can still remember my first sip of the emerald green, oh so sweet “Creme de Menthe”. So began my love affair with Alcohol!

See the “About Me” page (next to Home, above) for more of my background info.

Your comments, input, advice, admonishment, whatever, as I travel this journey are all most welcome and appreciated. I so desperately want to be “finally free”. See my blog posts below for updates.



Giving birth…


Tonight I watched the episode of the Handmaid’s Tale where June gives birth to her baby, going through an incredibly painful, agonizing experience, as all mother’s do. But once the agony is over, pure and utter joy remains.

Thinking about that afterwards, I could see that my getting sober was similar. Except, I have been in labor, in the pure and utter agony, for years and years…and years. But not just from the booze! Also from all the reason’s why I drank it in the first place. In labor all this time, doing whatever I could to give birth to my sobriety.

At the very end, I was so desperate.

I think my doctor’s receptionist sensed it the day I went in, without an appointment. My voice wavered, like a child’s quivering at their first school play. I asked her to fit me in. At first she said no, that the “doctor was fully booked”, but then I told her exactly what I needed. She looked into my eyes, and in an instant seemed to sense the urgency of my call, and then God’s hand of compassion reached out through her. Shortly after, I had my prescription for the Antabuse. Hard labor continued, however, for another month…just like the classical “transition” stage of labor! And then it was done.

While the joy I feel today is slight compared to a mother’s joy in their newborn child, it is still significant. What I have done hasn’t set in fully yet. But I know what I did three day’s ago, is finally give birth to — to the nearly unwanted child…

His name is Sobriety.

Praise be.



Stone cold sober…


I picked up the Antabuse prescription a month ago today. I know exactly why it took me that long to finally start taking it.

I was scared. Afraid to turn my back upon all that I know, all that I have been for so, so long. I started drinking heavily right after being separated from of my wife and children. The booze became the only way that I could cope with that, with that pit of loneliness and despair.

I eventually fell into that pit, that hell hole, and spent 17 years trying to get out of it, so desperately trying to find another way to cope with my loneliness, my lack of family, my lack of love, my lack of a having a real relationship with my children. To this day I still struggle with this.

The alcohol, and the bar, and my bar buddies and all of that, became my way to cope, my only way to survive. I knew that it would kill me eventually. I couldn’t afford rehab. Instead, I found it in a bottle of Antabuse…

I’m calling it my “Poor Man’s Rehab”… my “Rehab in a Bottle”…

I took the first dose just after 4 pm. FUCK that was hard, the minutes and moments before. It’s just past 10 pm now. I didn’t.drink.tonight.

My feelings are very mixed. I feel…like I’ve pushed away from the shore in a little boat. Alone, without a motor or sail or oar. Set adrift upon a deep dark sea of…I don’t know… nothingness perhaps…and being taken now by the current towards an invisible horizon. It’s dark, and cold, and I’m a bit afraid, but sense I’m where I’m supposed to be, yessiree, heading in the right direction, finally, and doing it — stone.cold.sober.




Beer and Mustard…


I couldn’t do it. By around 2, I was feeling so OFF and spacey. If I’m going to do this — which I WILL — I guess I need to wean myself off the booze over a period of a week or so, not over just a few days. Hey, I’ve really disappointed myself here too! Big time. But as they say, “Old habit’s die hard”. Call me the Bruce Willis of “Die Hard Addiction!!!”. Willis won out in the end, and that is my aim and goal as well. Not today, but oh well. I’m still in here slugging.

Tomorrow is another day. Tonight, I drank too much again….after I realized that I couldn’t shove that Antabuse pill down my throat. I came close! But my work day presented me with so many challenges, I just had to have a few, and as it turns out, a few too many, to cope, to escape, to ignore my challenge of the day.

Peyton Place indeed!!! Almost better than an soap opera, I am!!! Perhaps I should write a series based on my pathetic life!? I DO need something to finance my retirement!!!

I’m O-K with my progress, and apparent failure today. WHY??? Because I have been drinking for 40 years, 20 of that too much. The last week has shown me that I CAN cut back and recycle…I mean, reduce….haha…my intake to get to the Antabuse point! I WILL get there!!! I promise. Another few days…

I hear Canada geese in flight above my place tonight! Heading south now, I suppose. The weather here has turned. Makes sense. Smart geese! Dummy me –yet, with hope still!!!




25 days…end of the road.


Me and Aunt Abuse (Antabuse) have been roommates for 25 days now. For the first 18 or so, I left her in the cupboard, nestled between Vitamin’s A & Z. Then I let her out and put her on top of my fridge, where I can see that big tubulous tubby of hers every day — one of the biggest prescription bottles I’ve ever had! Well, it’s a 90 day supply of capsules.

It’s 4:37 AM. I slept great from around 10 to 3, but have been awake since. It’s usually the booze that awakens me up at this time. For years now, when I’ve gotten sloshed in the evenings, I usually wake up some time between 2 and 4, sobering up, and am awake for a few hours before being able to go back to sleep, if at all.

But this morning is different. I had very little to drink last night. Same with the night before. Friday night I got LOADED. I’m not proud of that, but I wanted to, I needed to. I was still feeling this impending sense of DOOM, as I said in my last entry. I feel like I’ve been on death row lately…knowing for the past 25 days that I’m only hours away at any given time from THE moment that I pop open that god damn bottle on top of my fridge and shove one of those snow white capsules down my throat. I’ve been imagining it will be more like the displeasure of shoving a suppository up my ass (indulge me with some rare rudeness).

And so will END forever my tantalizing, torrid, turgid, tempestuous, 40 year loved-hate affair with my dear sweet Creme de Menthe….alcohol. It’s HER fault…she seduced me, those long 50 years past, giving me my first taste of what I’ve always affectionately called, with a giggle my, “Nirvana in a bottle”.

This morning, then, I’m awake because TODAY is the day of my alcoholic execution. Of course I can’t sleep. In a few hours I’ll be committing alcoholic suicide. Executing MYSELF — my alcoholic self that is, my old way’s and beings of 40 years spent living my  pathetic little life in the bottle. Yup, in just a few hours, I’ll be taking that pill, and then it will all.be.over…

OVER…imagine that — I scarcely can, imagine a life, starting today, lived without alcohol? I’ll believe it when I see it, but I’m absolutely sure it will be, the second I take that pill — unless I panic and stick my finger down my throat and puke it back up. But no, I won’t do that…

I’m going to do this — take that damn pill. Today may be the end of my alcoholic trails, but it’s going to be the start of something better. My bones are telling me so, but my nerve is not, but I don’t care — damn the torpedoes!!!

May it be so.



14 days…


No, not 14 days sober. Rather, that’s how long I’ve had the Antabuse — and I still haven’t taken it. Why? I don’t really know why, although I’ve had some interesting insights in the meantime. For the first week or so I wanted to get in a few last “Hurrah’s” at the pub. I told most of my friends that I’m going to be taking it. They have been fairly supportive.

But it’s like my addiction has suddenly taken on a life of it’s own. Like Jekyll and Hyde being in the same room together, at the same time. One side of me wants to take the Antabuse, the other doesn’t, and doesn’t care what happens to me in the meantime. It’s hard to describe.

I can’t explain it really. Part of me just wants to damn the torpedoes and self destruct. To give up, give in, spin off into oblivion…


I’m planning to have no more than 3 sleeves (not pints) of cider tomorrow (today — it’s 4:15 AM) and then start the Antabuse on Sunday, but I’ve been saying the same thing for over the past week. What’s going on? Give up, give in, spin off into oblivion. Come on, just give up, give in, spin into oblivion.


Give up, give in, spin off into oblivion!




Over the wall…


Someone used that ladder to climb over the Mexico-U.S. wall. And they made it, into America, the land of the FREE. Well, tomorrow, around 2 pm I’ll be climbing the same, away from my life of alcohol addiction, to my freedom on the other side…Sobriety.

I had GREAT things planned for today. Picked up a small bottle of my favourite sparking wine (2 glasses 3/4 full). Picked up all the fixings for a home-made hamburger. I even bought myself a nice slice of Chocolate cake — all of this to celebrate and send myself off in grand style, my last night with alcohol, along with the luscious burger and desert, like my own little party to say goodbye to the 40 year love of my life….alcohol. So romantic!

I really enjoyed the two glasses of sparkling wine – all that I had planned to drink tonight. But I enjoyed those SO much, that I thought I’d zip down to the local beer and wine store to buy just one more small can of cider, to celebrate the celebration! I picked up a 6 pack.

After happily drinking 4 of those celebratory ciders, I ate the Safeway deli, “Loaded Potato Salad” entree that I got when picking up the burger things. But, then I was too lazy to make the burger, so I threw a couple hot dogs on, sliced up the hamburger bun and some fresh onion, and thoroughly enjoyed it, instead of the burger. I’m not going to eat the cake…well, cause I didn’t do things as planned. No icing on this cake for me tonight!

SO….I’ve decided, assuming my high blood pressure doesn’t kill me over night…no more liquor send-offs. They say one only has to wait 12 hours after having a drink before starting the Antabuse. That will be 8 AM tomorrow morning. But they also say, that 24 hours is even better. Well, I’m going to call it a draw, and tomorrow, 18 hours after my last drink tonight, around 2, I’ll take the first dose of Antabuse. That will guarantee that I don’t drink tomorrow. I might go through a bit of alcohol withdrawal, but since I’m not a 24/7 drinker, it won’t be anything very serious. I hope.

So there you have it. Although, I think I might eat a little bit of that chocolate cake now…

TTFN, then, till tomorrow after 2….I will report in after taking the first dose of the Antabuse….my first chapter of the “Antabuse Chronicles” will be written, and we will go from there.

Farewell my love….my dearest alcohol. It’s been great, mostly, kind of, sort of. But, I’ve had enough of you. I’m bored. I need a change. Actually, I just need and truly do want a healthy life, without your miserable. alcoholic. premature death.


Deer on the road…


Well, I had planned today to have only 1 drink and then start the Antabuse tomorrow. I successfully tapered down the last few days. Slept GREAT last night with only 3 beer in me. Was looking gleefully forward to having just one tonight and then tomorrow starting the Antabuse.

So much for that plan! My dearest friend texted me late in the afternoon. He sent me a joke, and then another, and then I asked him if he was at the pub. He said he was, with another dear friend, so…..I said I would join them for, “One last hurrah”. To be honest, I’m glad that I did. They both know that I’m starting this new “Gout medicine” and cannot drink for at least the next 3 months. Gout medicine you say? Well, yes, if I quit drinking, I won’t have to take the Allopurinal anymore for my gout….so, yes, the Antabuse is my Gout cure.

Anyway, my friends were so happy that I joined them for the last hurrah, as was I, as I said. I’ve told them that I cannot have even a thimble-full of alcohol while I’m on the “Gout-medicine regime”…else I’ll be terrible sick…and they do get that (although don’t totally understand….whatever). I will tell them the whole truth of the matter in good time….

So, tomorrow, I may have a couple beers in the evening, but come Monday, I will most definitely start taking the Antabuse. I don’t want any more, “Last Hurrah’s” tempting me to go out to drink. I need to get off this not-so-merry-go-around and just bloody well stop drinking altogether. The sooner the better. I’m going to bloody-well do this! Yes.

So that’s where I’m at.

August 27th will be the first day of the rest of my life — taking the Antabuse, not drinking, forever. Coincidentally, that is also my daughter’s birthday. Anyway, that’s my plan. Yes, my plan’s seem to ebb and flow…but as I said, after 40 years, it’s not an easy feat. The Antabuse will ensure it though — finally. Thank God. I can’t wait to be free.