Just about ready for bed, finishing up my second, second day sober. I didn’t sleep well last night, understandably. Fitfully. I have a bit of a headache tonight. Well, I was drinking like the ol’ glory days for the past 6 weeks. My brain needs to re-adapt to the same-o without the vino. The tuners been off the station, so to speak. It’s going to take some time to dial in the smooth jazz again. No more rock n’ roll!
I’m not missing the bottle today. Good fricking riddance I’m saying today — that’s what I say. The nails in the coffin and I’m done my quaffin’, can ya dig it? Oh ya.
Ya, I’m losing my mind and everything’s just-a-fine. Well, maybe not. You see, sobriety is like a tree with many branches. Cept while I was drinking I was sitting on my arse at the bottom of it with my buddies, not looking up except when I took a swig from of my sweet nectar, and the bottle blocked my view of the branches. Those branches reaching way up high towards the light. Oh, I see them more than clearly now! The branches of what could have been the growth and variety of my life had I not wasted the last 30 years feeling sorry for myself, sucking on the bottle like a baby sucking on it’s Momma’s tit.
Maybe I’m being too hard on myself. Ok, I am. But still, these feelings are all in here just a running around and some of them don’t know what, where or when to sit down. Oh well. Life’s not over. I think I’ll have some choc’lat!