switch to “buy alcohol” mode.
Well, I used to tell myself, the simple solution would be to switch to “not buy” mode. But the trouble was never just at the corner Family Beer & Liquor (yes, a bit ironic.. like bring the kids! ha).
There was the craving in the body that acted like it had a mind of its own, the mind that behaved like it had no body at all, and that mysterious spiritual malady that seemed to whisper, “Come on, just one more time, and this time it will be waaaaaaay different.”
I have heard, the compulsion of the abnormal drinking is to think “one day, one day soon, perhaps right after I write this, I can drink successfully”
Now, I can already see you reading this (no I don’t have a crystal ball, but just like I did at first) … and? you’re not going to like my answer. But here goes anyway, straight from one soul who has been burned by the similar fire. (might even call it a certain type of hell, and not be entirely wrong neither)
I tried AA. yuppers. didn’t stick at first. and wouldn’t you know, it kinda worked. Didn’t take too long either. Every time I stumbled into that church basement, those rooms around the corner of the building, the door less opened, and I got the courage to open my mouth, I said, “I am new here”
The old timers would laugh and say, “Keep coming back.” At first I thought they were mocking me. Turns out, they were loving me, one snort & snicker, sometimes from the corner, at a time. I entered and picked the chair closest to the door for an easy escape! But I did keep coming back, somewhat to make sure those old folks did not get too lonely. But mostly it was a safe hour I knew I wouldn’t drink. Those folks? They seemed to care that I got better too. Funny thing though? somewhere between the laughter, the coffee, a book, a resentment and the world’s most uncomfortable chairs (and stale cookies) that I heard what spoke to me like no other, they spoke of the language of my crazy behaviour, and after a few meetings I heard my story itself, and then something inside me, just enough, for me to come back.
And that’s how it happened, one meeting, one smile, one divine nudge at a time. (let’s face it, my friends and family already were nudging… I was certain as you are writing, I had already convinced myself, something needed to change.)
And if I was lucky? Some of those meetings had expired donuts.
Now, I this isn’t the only way. I just hope you don’t continue to burn your hand on that hot stove, like I did. Do not put your face on it. Please, do not take it to bed. And, for heaven’s sake, don’t marry the darn thang!
Good luck.