The Myth of Sisyphus

As an alcoholic I have learned a few things over this past year.

Like I am only just learning to trust myself.

And that temptation is not a game or a challenge or a something to tip toe along to test your balance.

Temptation is a big bag of bricks looming ominously overhead with you stuck below toying with the knot that keeps it from release. You have to just know how much it would fucking hurt just by looking at it. So don't even think of touching the rope or even just poking it once. Leave it there.

*

Anyway, to be perfetly honest, I did drink. I opened a bottle of red wine and drank it while I listened to music and read through some old books. And then I had another bottle of even more expensive wine.

I even cracked the seal on a bottle of scotch and had a swig just straight up. I was drunk and sitting outside and even went rummaging through my wife's shit to find some stale cigarettes and had a few of them. Then it was 3am and I fell asleep.

*

And I woke up and I was hungover and I still needed a haircut. So I went and got a haircut and life was still there, happening, just that I had let myself down.

I drove the three hours to the wedding in the rain and at a small town just outside the vineyard I stopped in the mainstreet and walked along until I found a pub and, yep, I went inside and had a beer. All the usual suspects were there, not talking, just staring at screens on the wall or their drinks.

I read the paper and the beer sat there, like it wasn't supposed ot be there and I didn't drink half of it. Left it there.

Then I drove closer to the wedding and about 5 kilometers out there was a roadhouse type hotel and I stopped there and bought some cigars and another beer. I smoked and drank the beer sitting outside and felt lonely and pathetic. Drinking again. Standing by the bar and ordering a drink. Like I was normal, not an alcoholic.

*

At the wedding I didn't drink - the guy opposite me turned up late for the reception and had vomit on his tie - he said he had drunk a whole bottle of Jack. I looked at him and curled my lip. Officially, I wasn't drinking and no one knew, not yet anyway.

After the speeches, my wife came over and laughed that it was funny that the beer was my favorite - a premium brand that I would buy 'for special occasions' and how ironic it was I wasn't drinking it. I sort of laughed too.

Then I sort of said I would have a beer. And I did and soon I had about ten and then I brought out a bottle of vodka and drank half of it too. It was, and I appreciate this is an over-used term, but it was surreal and it was like it wasn't really me, as though I was sort of just testing it.

But, it was me, and it was alcohol and there was no denying the utter hopeless of me drinking again. There I said it, those words of utter hopelessness - drinking again.

The blurry childhood-memory-image of the kids crying and whispering "Dad's drinking again" and me there like a big fool proudly holding a drink in my hand like it's not a hand grenade. Like it's just a drink.

*

Next morning I was hungover and walking around taking photos of the set, trying to be inconspicuous and avoid people. The drive home was quiet and sad and we called into my wife's parents' house. It was someone's birthday and they were all drinking. Perfect for me to flow on to more drinking. Effortless. Seamless. Flow.

I didn't drink anymore, except for a long hard swig on the vodka from out of the boot of the car when I had to go and get everyone's swimmers. Glug glugged as much of the half bottle of vodka as I could without my mouth exploding and put it back like a sneaky alcoholic and cleared my throat and went back to the party. Feeling dead inside. Like it wasn't really happening.

*

That night I came down to a hangover and I felt anxiety and dread and thought sex would get me through it, but it was just anxiety. JUST anxiety? I was up half the night, hot and sweaty and tired and hungover and thirsty and just thinking all I need is a few glugs of something and the anxiety'll go away.

I reset my Days Sober counter on February 10 after 297 days sober.

23 comments:

  1. Welcome back! You were missed.

    In these, my early days of sobriety, I'm trying to figure out how I keep myself out of harm's way - it feels so damn good to be sober, doesn't it? But I sure don't trust myself. I just finished reading 'Unwasted' by Sasha Scoblic. She's a hell of a writer. If you haven't come across it yet, I highly recommend it. She picks up where most recovery memoirs leave off - she talks about how she's been dealing with staying sober, rather than getting sober. It was a single-sitting read for me, I couldn't put it down.

    Thank you for sharing your experience of the journey with your fellow travelers. You're not alone.

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  2. Oh.. Bwendo. Don't break my heart. Don't go dead inside! You just drank again, that's all. It's not like you have to go all the way back to the beginning. You've done so much of the hard work, retrained your brain to accept life without booze, confronted lots of your demons and learned to sit with many, many emotions without the drink. So you dipped your toe again. So what. You're a smart curious guy and one tiny piece of your brain won out for a moment there and you just wanted to test it out. That's ok .. shit happens! Hold your head high and breath a deep breath of pride, you're strong and you're honest. To quote what you've said so many times to me.. go easy on yourself and take care xxxx (and yes, Welcome back! You were missed).

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  3. Bwendo - you know planes never stay on course? That they constantly correct? It sounds like the 2nd wedding restarted your actual intention.

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  4. You sound like you learned from your relapse who you really are. What you are NOT is fake, pathetic, dead. Who you really are is gloriously alive. Glad you are back. You have probably heard this but here goes: "Come, come, whoever you are, wanderer, worshiper, lover of leaving. This is not a caravan of despair. It doesn’t matter that you’ve broken your vow a thousand times, still come, and yet again, come." Rumi

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  5. It can happen and it did happen and welcome back. Thanks for the honest piece.

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  6. Geez, you know I tried to comment 3 times last night while I was up in a late night obsession session and for some bloody reason my phone wouldn't allow me to. Probably for the best because my heart sank and I panicked when I read that you opened the bottle. I've heard a lot of things since I decided to close the door on alcohol. "everything is as it should be" stands out a lot because it pisses me off. If that's the case, then what is this Free Will crap all about. I try to tell myself if its this hard NOT to drink, than I must really HAVE a problem drinking. No gray area and it frustrates the crap out of me. I appreciate your comment on my blog 'the beautiful drunk' sorry if its a bit spinny. So what are you going to do now? You gave me a glimpse of what a lonely night turned love affair with my habit would look like.

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  7. Thanks for your honesty, and admitting that you drank. I wish I had some brilliant wisdom for you but I can only tell you what worked for me. I knew I was a bad alcohlic six months before I went to AA. I also knew that at that point I wasn't going to give up drinking. So one day I woke up, hungover, head pounding and a thought came across my mind that had never been there before, "there has to be something better than this". I didn't know anything about AA except that when you went there you didn't drink anymore. That's probably why I avoided the place for years. But I made sure that I had decided to never drink again before I walked in there. That day came and I've never looked back. I can't drink like other people, I'm an alcoholic. There's never enough booze in the world to fill me up. Drinking is not an option. I just celebrated my second year of sobriety. I no longer have to feel guilt, shame, or sneak around. I just want you to know "there is something better than drinking". It's called sobriety, may you find it now.....

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  8. I'm just going to be dead honest because it's all I know how to do. But even so, I mean well.

    First, I'm sorry you relapsed. I have no understanding of what that is like. Well, ok, I sort of do, but not in the same way. I know what it's like to act all stubborn again when I told myself I would be more open and less reactive. I know what it's like to get triggered when I told myself I would walk away. And I imagine the subsequent self-loathing is at least in the same ball park.

    But I don't know what it's like to be ruled by some outside substance that can wreck my life in a minute.

    So I'm sorry that you do.

    Standing on the other side of the fence - even though, not really, because addicts and their families feel like they're all in the same muck together - it is hard for me, really really hard, every time someone who's in recovery relapses. Because it reminds me that there's a part of my partner that's always there in the room with him, that may over-ride his judgment, his care, his kindness, his concern for others, and that part will have a joy ride and there'll be a disaster that I can't see coming because I'm not in there with him. And sometimes it's too hard for me to realize that it could be around the next corner, or it could be miles away, or it could be so far off that we'll never see it, but I just don't know.

    I hope that you find serenity again soon. From what I hear, shame doesn't help one bit. It's a tricky dance taking responsibility without beating yourself up. Here's to finding that balance. :)

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  9. I have been reading your blog for sometime -- the honesty in today's blog was inspiring, sooo the "imp" got the best of you for a moment in time, but you did not let it win. Awesomeness...as well as gives people still struggling (like me) hope. Take care.

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  10. I hope you can hear the sound of me applauding your honesty all the way from brooklyn, nyc. I've often heard others say that their slips were essential learning experiences for finally achieving an authentic and enduring sobriety. So glad you are not letting our disease drag you back down. Keep posting and be kind to yourself.

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  11. Bwendo, first of all, welcome back, no shame, it happened. Glad you are back to the trudge. But I have to say, what an incredible post this is. I swear, you really nailed it the way you wrote it. That would definitely be me. I would've done the bar thing, the observations, the swigging from the back of the car, the "surreal" feeling. That whole scenario has played out in my mind. Your writing is beautiful. It really captures the resignation and the despair. Thank you for sharing and telling the truth.

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  12. It's amazing how we feel that we know each other even through this blogosphere. When I read this post I felt the same way that I do when a friend "goes back out". I really felt for you. It's amazing how honest you were in this post. Humility is a huge part of all of this and you just showed that you have that. This journey is "progress not perfection". No one has done this perfectly and you can't beat yourself up for not doing so either. Get back on the horse and ride it again. I am a firm believer that we mentally relapse before we actually use/drink again so maybe this is a good opportunity to look at yourself and see what you can do to get yourself mentally where you need to be for where you are in your journey. Great post and we are all rooting for you!!!

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  13. I appreciate your honesty. I don't have the disease and am grateful for that. Hope that you continue in your resolve to stay sober.

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  14. The bit about your anxiety really resonated with me - a feeling I know only too well and always a massive trigger for more of the same. I admire your honesty and strength of character to resist and resolve once more. You have indeed come a long way.

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  15. It is great to get that off my chest. Felt sick for days from the drink but also from not being a good example round here... Will make me stronger for now, no way I want that feeling of waiting for the first few days of sobriety to just pass...
    Thanks for your comments.

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  16. Nice informative blog, thanks for sharing.

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  17. Bwendo - I know that feeling. I relapsed twice before I finally got it right (and no...that does NOT mean you can do it one more time...I know how our brains work).

    The feelings you described were exactly what I felt...especially the loneliness...man that sucked. I was amazed at how I went "from 0 to 60" in no time flat. Right back on the hamster wheel - only worse.

    Anyway - lots of words to say congratulations for being sober and thank you for a beautiful and honest post. You rock dude.

    Sherry

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  18. I'm sad because I have a better glimpse on my friend's life, because I haven't lived this. The last paragraph is what he has tried to describe to me. Obviously not in lots of detail.

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  19. It's so easy to say don't sweat it... I went 78 days and then blew it last weekend when my buddy was visiting with his wife in San Francisco... we started with Absinth in the hotel room and then we all jumped in a cab and went nuts - I also had an injury therefore I had a bottle of painkillers I was sneaking all night with hots of Tequila. I wanted to ask if the poem/ saying you had wrote comparing the ocean to drinking was your original writing because I can tell you right now now that it inspired me to quit - you are amazing with words and should be an author or a screenwriter bro! I envy you and your strength. I hope all is well with you and your family. God Bless brother and you take care of yourself.

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  20. Bwendo, you doing okay now? I kind of slipped off the radar myself for a couple of weeks, not drinking but I could feel something slipping. It's six months tomorrow for me and my attention to taking care of me was starting to waver, thank you for a much needed wake up call. Please get or keep your ass out of the bottle Bud, we need you with us.

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  21. Hey just checking in. Hope you're ok. xxx

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  22. Damn, Bwendo, I'm so sorry. If its any consolation to you, I have been there. Three separate times, in fact. I was a chronic relapser. One time it was after three years of sobriety.

    What I hope for you is that you continue to choose sobriety. It may be a struggle, but it is a struggle that is more than worth it.

    Thinking of you.

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