You know when things get really bad and you make that decision to completely dry out? Maybe things haven't got that bad 'yet' (as they say at those meetings) but when they do, you'll know, and from there you'll do what you can to stop and stay stopped.
I've said this once before, in a post a while ago, but stopping drinking and getting sober is probably one of the best and worst things you'll ever do. Sobriety, for all its supposed benefits, is a royal pain in the ass. You start doing 'people things' and socializing with 'normal' people from the office, or you dive headfirst into sports, I mean hey? It's time to get fit right? So you look in the mirror and the next thing you know, you're cycling a few hundreds miles a week and playing football (soccer) after work with the 'lads'.
It's great isn't it? You probably made some new friends, hell you might even still be going to those fucking meetings in the evenings, you know the ones, "Oh I'm just going to meet some friends for coffee" is what you'll tell people whose no fucking business it is.
After a while, a few weeks have gone by, then months, then half a year and before you know it, you're over a year 'clean and sober'. And my God have you become a boring cunt. You meet others like you too, they clock-in, clock-out, pay their taxes and set their favorite television shows to download, so they don't miss out on anything infinitely more interesting than their own lives.
It's real easy to be negative, to become a sober cynic, a self deprecating, awkward individual. It's toxic, and soon you start thinking about all the crazy times, the good times, the unbelievably bad times and how it was all a good laugh in the end. You go to the store and hover near the alcohol aisle, tentatively picking up bottles, reading the labels and setting them back down, before shuffling off to pick up some fucking asparagus because that's what the chef on TV said to do.
After a year or so of doing that, you're going to realize that you're kinda, sorta, definitely weird. You're uncomfortable in social situations, you lack any real interest in what your 'friends' are doing over the weekend, and you sure as shit don't want to go to their BBQ and be the only sober prick in attendance. But, you go anyway, and you carry on...keep on keeping on, 'keep on coming back'. Needless to say, you're not happy. You don't feel any happier than you did when you could only sleep in the knowledge that there was a bottle by the side of your bed within easy reach. So you get to thinking, what's the fucking point in being sober? Maybe you do what I did, you grab your smokes, go out into the night and just stare up at the sky. Sounds pretty romantic, except it's really fucking gay and that startling revelation of your place in the universe never comes. So you chain smoke the rest of the pack, go home and sit in your bedroom staring out of the window, watching the traffic go by and wondering where everyone is going at this time of night.
What I'm saying is...it doesn't get any easier. In fact, it gets worse. The sense of uneasiness creeps up on you and the anxiety at times, far outweighs the fear you used to get when the only store selling booze was shut and the house was dry.
A lot of people I met said they quit because the doctor said if they didn't, they'd die. Is it worth it though? Is it really worth prolonging your time on Earth as an incredibly unhappy, upstanding member of society? I'm not so sure about that.
'm sure I'll be back one day, breaking into a fresh bottle of liquor, or 12 cans deep in a pack of cheap lager. It'd be good to be back, as the old me, and not this person. This isn't really me.