I still have phantom memories of my drinking past, euphoric recall, twisted. It's as if one of my legs were amputated, but that I can still sometimes, somehow feel those toes that are not there.
Triggers are phantom toes wiggling. Don't take the bait. Don't bite. Use your good leg, the sober leg. The bad leg is gone. Let it go. Say your eulogy. Mourn this death and move on.
Addiction is a beast that lives within you. You cannot kill the beast. Denial, anger, fear will not kill it. Begging, pleading, blaming will not tame it. Depression, self-pity, doubt: They only feed it. Confront it. Accept it. The beast will never die.
from "All Drinking Aside," Chapter 65 (rough draft)
e-info: moonshine2sunshine@yahoo.com
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