In a lot of ways, I wish my problem with alcohol were a physical one. There it is -- right there. White-knuckle it and push it away.

But it's not. My problem is this invisible thing that lives inside my skull. For me, too, alcohol is a side effect of this uglier thing. But what I'm seeing is what I've suspected for a long time -- that alcohol fuels that other fire. The reprieve is so short and the flames become so much hotter.

This reality came to full effect last Saturday. I knew the moment I awakened that it was going to be a rough one. 4:30 am and my instinct was to dowse those flames with a drink. But that's not how I fight this fight anymore.

By 9:30 am things were no better but I had the awareness of how I otherwise would have been. A few months ago I'd have already poured multiple glasses of whiskey down my throat in an effort to keep things at bay. The only thing worse than that very moment would have been trying to fight it intoxicated.

I got through the day, like we all do. And for the first time I had some true insight on the severity of my need to avoid drinking.

I took a little time to reflect. No, thing are not good. But they have improved. Instead of being a disaster, I'm now a mere mess. And that much time hasn't really passed. I see others here sharing perspectives after a year, two years... making the right choices. Eventually that could be me, too. And you. There's at least a chance.