I honestly thought that by now I would be free from this scourge. That this bitter sweet cup would have been past me by now. But no. I continue to slowly but surely poison myself, cup by cup, sip by sip, drop by drop. I’m not sharing this to solicit sympathy or ask for help or anything of the sort. I’m just stating the facts. This is my journal, “One Drunk’s Tale”, left open for all to see. To see the destruction that the demon drink can do, does do, to a Joe Blow like me.
There was a time when I wouldn’t consider going into rehab, not so long ago really. I’d go now, if I could, but I can’t. Well I could if I lost everything and ended up on the street. Then the government run rehab would take me in. That’s the last place in this world that I would like to end up in, honestly. I had the money a few years ago to afford a really nice private rehab, but not anymore.
A.A. is a good program, if you work it. If you call your sponsor. If you go to meetings. I can’t even do that. I guess I’m doomed, destined to die, of just old age maybe, in the grip of this disease. Many do. I’d rather not be one of them. But look at me. I started this blog almost 8 years ago. At least my drinking hasn’t gotten worse. One concession, but it was already bad enough.
I’ll go to a meeting today, probably. You see, I know what to do. I just don’t do it. And I don’t know why. Perhaps I’ve finally hit bottom.