Sunday Sundries … Day 33 of 365
It is Superbowl Sunday, We don’t get U.S. commercials here, so there is really no desire to watch football, not that I watch football anyways …
It snowed last night, into this morning. Not a huge amount, but it did pile up in places. The plows were out last night, and there are mounds of snow in particular places. And I had to shovel snow from the walk way at the church before the meeting.
Thankfully we had heat in the church. No complaining there.
Grateful that I did not have to listen to anyone complain about the weather tonight, blessedly…
Walking home from the meeting I passed by the sports bar and Seattle was kicking some real ass.
It was a good evening. Lots of women, a splattering of men. The girls were two to one to the men tonight. We were missing a number of familiar faces. Most probably watching football.
We read “The housewife who drank at home.” A story about a housewife with two children and how the disease went unchecked for so long that she became an every day drinker, and a bottle hider. Until she hit rock bottom and no where to go, she found sobriety.
I’ve known a bottle hider in my life. Coming from an alcoholic home, and a third generation alcoholic, I think I’ve seen some pretty wild things. Grampy was a bottle hider. Dad was a daily drinker. I became what I knew well. Something I swore I’d never be.
But what did I know then? Alcohol was part of existence. It was there to use. I was a user early on. Whenever I drank, it was for more. I knew this before I left high school. I never drank at home as an adult.
I guess I thought that if I did drink at home or had liquor in my cabinet or freezer, that I would cross that invisible line. If I had to go out and get it, it wouldn’t be that bad, so I thought.
In the end – the battle with alcoholism was a no win scenario. I knew I was licked. She talks about the “surrender” and how important the recognition of that surrender. I had surrendered to the fact that I could not drink any more, before I had my last drink. But I had to have that last drink. Because it gave me the hangover of death.
Which was my signal to stop for myself. That was one of the requirements I made for myself in my journey to surrender.
And in sobriety, it is the “STAY” that really matters. Find a group, make it your own, do service and stay sober. One day at a time.
Imagine the millions upon millions of bottles of beer, and the millions upon millions of bottles of alcohol that will be consumed today into tonight.
There are going to be a LOT of hungover folks tomorrow.
Grateful that I won’t be one of them.
More to come, stay tuned …