On sobriety
People often say that they don't see me as an alcoholic.
I was never stumbling through back alleys, gin and piss soaked, passing out in the park. Instead I drank £18 bottles of Rioja and listened to Joni Mitchell. For many that seems pretty civilised. Normalised.
I drank to stop the spinning wheels of my mind. I drank to forget who I had been, who I was, and the person I desperately wanted to become.
Tipsy was never sufficient. I always had one eye on the bottle, dreading that final, half-glass pour. Over time, one bottle turned into two. I wanted to feel nothing but the room spinning and gravity pinning my body to the bed. I lived for those moments of insensibility, preferring the powerlessness I’d chosen over that which felt forced upon me. There was not a minute of my existence that I didn’t hate myself.
Next week I will be 7 years sober.
And yet, there's not a week that goes by that I don't think about alcohol. I want my fingertips in cold condensation, the crisp smell of Pinot Grigio, the satisfaction of that first sip. A pint of Black Isle Brewery Yellowhammer, weighty in my hand, zingy grapefruit and bitter hops on my tongue.
But more honestly, I want to be drunk. Gone. I miss the oblivion.
You see, booze is the fastest getaway car for a brain on the run. Meditation does fuck all (for me). Yoga gets me nowhere near where I want to go. Exercise requires effort. Buying things online is ruined by the very fact of delivery. I've tried binge eating, but the impact, on all but my digestive system, has been paltry.
I remember getting drunk at age 15. For the first time in my life, I felt free from myself. Less of a shedding, more of an abandonment. And I loved it. I think some part of me will always want that escape. So, I wake up every day and I choose sobriety.
Just before our love got lost you said
"I am as constant as a northern star"
And I said, "Constantly in the darkness
Where's that at?
If you want me I'll be in the bar"
- Joni Mitchell - Case Of You