I couldn’t do it. A friend texted me about 5 last night and said he was going to the pub. I caved in an instant. Well, I was sitting at home, alone and miserable.
Today, I’m hungover, and scared. I mean, really scared that I can’t do this. I called my AA sponsor last night. He thinks I should go to detox and rehab. Rehab! That’s the last place in the world that I want to end up. I can’t afford a private one, so there is only the one government one to go to, which is where my sponsor sobered up. He’s been clean and sober ever since, about 10 years now. If I end up in rehab, I’ll lose my job, then I’ll lose my car and whatever precious little dignity that I have left! Yes, all that scares me alright. Scares the crap out of me.
It’s just after 11 AM. I only now got dressed. Brushed the fuzzy mittens off my teeth. Gagged when I brushed my tongue. My throat feels raw from the gallons of
gasoline, beer I poured down it last night. And did I mention that I’m scared? Well, paranoia is typical hangover leftovers. I know that, but it’s not fun going through it, just the same.
I think I’m also scared to stop drinking. The booze has been my trusted, faithful companion for so many years. Home alone? Burt the beer kept me company. Stressed out from living apart from my kids? Sally the Caeser comforted me. Ok, I’ve gone to AA, have hundreds of hours of therapy. I have all the “tools”, ways and means to stay sober, but I’ve lacked the fortitude I guess. Whenever I have sobered up previously, so many feelings come rushing in, overwhelming me, I end up calling ol’ Burt and Sally for help. Even my therapists have been frustrated. My case is complicated, I guess. *sigh*
Ok, I’m going to give it another go today. See if I can keep myself out of rehab. Oh man!