Hello! I wrote this introduction and started this blog in September of 2009. As you will see, now 12 years later, I have continued to drink…

My original blog intro:

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 late-forties (2009) 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!

Well, I’m 62 now, and the journey continues. I officially quit drinking on September 17th, 2018 and enjoyed my first Christmas and New Years and birthday alcohol free in over 40 years. I say, “officially” because I have have since relapsed. But, my long-term plan and goal is to get drink-free. See the “About Me” page (top right) for more of my background info.

As my original intro stated, the purpose of this blog is to document either my deliverance or demise from the “demon-drug” alcohol. I wish I could say it’s now mostly about my deliverance, because I did have a number of months sobriety back in 2018 & 2019, but not since the Covid-19 crisis hit, which has really derailed me. Life’s journey never ends…until it really ends, which I hope to live to see!

I welcome your input as I travel this journey. I want, so desperately, to be free. See my blog post’s below for updates.


Time flies…

Wow, it’s been a while.

Not much has changed. I’m still drinking, about the same as usual. I’m still meeting up with my friend who has — supposedly has — stage 4 cancer, but here we are 20 months in and she seems more healthy than me, frankly. I’ve often wondered if she lied about the whole thing just to capture my attention. That’s a horrible thing to say, isn’t it? She was given 3 to 6 months to live, 20 months ago! In the meantime she still smokes and drinks like she always did and I haven’t seen any deterioration in her health at all. I’ve seen more deterioration in MY health than hers!

I’m being bad. I’m witnessing a miracle and not believing it. In the meantime she’s killing me. No, I’m killing me by continuing to stand by her. We’re just, “bar-buddies”. We’re not a “couple”…not at all. Just good friends. We meet almost every day at the local green space outside for beers. She says she doesn’t want to go into the pub because she’s on Chemo drugs and is vulnerable to catching Covid. She also knows I’m Covid-paranoid and am happy to not go into the pub.

Well, I have to say, enough is enough. She’s doing so well, I’ve been ignoring my own health all this time (rather easily, like a real drunk)….but I mean, seriously, it IS time for me to let her go and get back to ME. I joke with her that she’s going to be the one officiating over MY funeral and not the other way around. She laughs amidst her horribly phlegmy smokers cough. I don’t laugh in reply, because, ya…20 months later…bone marrow cancer, stage 4….???

I’m bad, I’m sorry. But I’m back here, at least. I AM going to step away from her and try to get back to my own self-care again. I need to do it. I have 2 kids and 4 grandchildren to consider. She has no children.

So, well, that’s about all I can say for tonight. I do plan to post more here again, if there is anybody still here who remembers me, that would be great. Regardless, I’m making a record of my drinking situation and struggles here that one day I hope to make public…one day…LOL…yes, it’s laughable after all these years, but I still believe I can be free….one day, finally free.


Not dead yet…

Well the Topiramate has helped, a little. Unfortunately, I couldn’t tolerate the dose once it got up to 100 mg’s, which isn’t much considering the doc said we could go up to 300 mg’s, but well ya know, I’m sensitive.

I am sensitive. No, I’m hyper-sensitive to be precise. Part of the curse of my being. Also the root of my anxiety, which is the root of my self-medicating with alcohol. With real medication, I’ve always been able to take far less of the “optimal” dosage, because, well, I’m sensitive. That’s been a good thing, in some ways.

So I backed off from 100 mg’s of the Topiramate to 50 mg’s. It has helped me to cut back my drinking, a bit. Getting Covid this week helped too! Ya — it finally got me. Was the Omicron variant, thank God, and thank God I’m triple vaxed, so I’ve had a mild case of it. I drank less for a few days, just naturally.

So what now? Good question. Believe it or not I feel like I’ll be able to taper down over the next few days and finally put the plug in the jug. I can hear you laughing. I understand. Given my history…I get it. Ok. But.



Modern Medicine…

So, while I bailed on the addiction clinic situation, my family doctor has a new gal/assistant helping him who is also an addiction’s specialist. So between the two of them I’m being well cared for. I have monthly check-ins. The addictions specialist recommended that I start taking “Toprimate” which for those who have tried and failed on other med’s, like Naltrexone, can help. I took the first tablet tonight.

I am ever-so-hopeful, because my own efforts at limiting and eliminating the booze has met with utter disaster for so many — too many, years.

So that’s the latest here. Warm wishes to those still here and who celebrate the Christmas season. As Christ is to Christmas, in that spirit there is always hope.


Yes, the rub without the tug…

And yet, and yet, I remain stuck in the mud, the mud of life, which is made up of mostly alcohol, which I continue to use with apparent glee, every day. I went to the addiction clinic, had a very unpleasant experience, left and vowed to never return. It just wasn’t for me. The whole thing was a most unpleasant (not that I was expecting much more) experience. But, the doctor was about 30, his 2nd day in the clinic and he didn’t even know where I should go to give them a pee sample. Nor did any one else on the ward apparently — this was in a hospital with staff all over the place. That took a half hour.

I was looking over my last couple years of handwritten journal entries, which all but ceased a couple years ago. All I talk about is the booze. Complain, complain, complain, and yet here I am still stuck in the muck, repeating myself ad nausea.

No wonder so many older alcoholic men kill themselves — “passive suicide” they call it, or should, with the drink. I suppose we all REALIZE at one time or other the futility of our efforts, the banality of our desires, just how utterly weak and useless we really are. Well, I guess I’ve finally nailed “Step One”.

Ok, in my own defence, let’s strike out that word, “useless” because that certainly is a culturally derived value, one especially a part of “Western” civilization, where our value as citizens, as people, is measured by our productivity. As in, “what good are you?”. I see this, very clearly, but the fact remains — I am mostly stagnant and stuck in the daily work, drink, sleep (poorly) routine…rinse and repeat.

And so what of it? I could die of a stroke today and that pitiful past would be my “legacy”. What a laugh. That is certainly NOT the way I would like my life to be remembered, but that IS the, to date, raw truthful substance of it. So sad.

I have another website with a few good essay’s on it, and a few good songs that I’ve composed, so I’m not ALL dross — there is that. Wow, such an accomplishment!

Maybe it’s simply the best that I been able to do. I have my demons, going back to birth. My therapist thinks I’ve done quite well, all things considered. She may be right, but I still find that a pathetic, sad existence. It certainly isn’t ALL that I want to be remembered for. But can I do anything different? I don’t have a lot of time left, especially if I keep up the drinking.

I don’t think I drink just to escape my banal existence. Frankly, I love the feel of a good buzz. Few pleasures in life compare to it. If I could only limit it I could continue to enjoy that aspect of it forever. But…there’s the rub, the tug without a happy ending.

All that said, I do have a plan still. Yes, I do have a plan…which I started tonight by successfully drinking less. This drama isn’t over yet, folks. The rest of the story has yet to be written, I most dearly hope.



Thanks, to the few who have checked in on me in the past while. I haven’t been here, of course, but I still am. As usual, since Covid, I’ve been drinking up a storm and barely looking back, until now.

Now…ah yes, now. Well, today I took a HUGE step. I revisited “Step-One” and made the call.

I made the call to my family physician and asked her to refer to me to a local Addiction Center. That center is reportedly the best we have in the city…the one where our local doctors, or lawyers or whatever other “Professionals” go to for help, ultimately. While I aint no “Professional”, I could have been, should have been, but wasn’t. I have the education for it. But that’s neither here nor there…I’m just choosing to go to the place where I will feel most comfortable. Several friends have recommended it to me as well.

Anyway, I did it. HUGE step for me to admit defeat and ask for help. I’m suddenly hopeful!!! It’s a blessed feeling. So, here’s to the next few weeks progress. I WILL do this. I must, or die. Stay tuned for more regular updates, or not.