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Posts Tagged ‘fear of sobriety’

So, over the weekend I drank.

It came as no surprise to me. Why should it, when I’d planned it as soon as I knew Mag would be away.

I smoked dope too – see above.

Nothing too heinous. Nothing to break my resolve completely. But as I look at my drink diary now I see my three days of zero units followed by three of around 10 units. Nothing on my best efforts of course. But last night I felt I had to drink to see off the withdrawals – one bottle of Newcastle Brown Ale.

It’s a bastard it really is to be an alcoholic. I can’t – and never try to – speak for everyone who’s ever suffered or struggled with booze, so you’ll have to take this as it is, an honest personaly opinion:

I fucking love drinking.

I fucking love being drunk.

I fucking love pubs.

Today, I probably won’t have to drink, but I’d damn well love to. You see, those few days of cutting down and cutting out have left me wondering if I really do have so much of a problem (and, in fact I’ve never (as previously discussed) hit “rock bottom”) and surely I can handle things.

That thought takes no account of the wrecked relationships, lost jobs, serious ill health, wasted education and so on and so on and so on that I can rack up to my lovely friend alcohol.

I stopped writing too. I stopped visiting the Brighteye forums.

You see, I’m hugely afraid of being sober. Hugely afraid.

Tomorrow I’ve an appointment with the Thin City Addictions Team. They will assess my drinking and see about an antabuse prescription. I don’t feel ready. We shall see what tomorrow brings.

Take it easy.

Thin City Citizen.

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So, late last week I took the walk down White Street onto Mud City Road and to the local addictions team.

A familiar walk.

You see, for a year recently I was abstinent and I attended an antabuse clinic there, swallowing the little tablets that make alcohol a much more unpleasant poison than it already is.

Then I stopped taking them. Then I went out for a drink with some of my Spread Head friends. Then, it’s two years later and I’m back again asking for help.

Oh well. Looking forward rather than back is probably better. Guilt never helped anyone overcome an addiction, I’m pretty sure of that. (I shall no doubt go on about guilt a hell of a lot more over the course of this here blog).

So back I went. The first appointment was just a pre-assessment. Familiar questions about substance use. Familiar answers.

The familiar – but none the less welcome – injunction, ‘don’t stop drinking’. Now, I know how unpleasant alcohol withdrawal can be, I’ve been through the early stages of very bad withdrawals and it’s terrifying, I really thought I would die and, indeed, that’s why they tell you not to stop (verbatim: “If you feel like you need a drink, have one.”) because you can die.

The truth is though that I’m absolutely terrified of sobriety. There’s a part of me that remembers how much better I felt when I was sober. And another part of me that remembers how I struggled with fear, with concentration, with depression, when I was sober.

I surprised myself a little though by saying that I was addicted to cannabis too. I’m not physically addicted, but it’s another compulsion. One I’m able to put aside when Mag is home. One I immediately leap back into when she’s gone.

I have given blood, I have given urine. I have slightly high blood pressure – nothing to worry about they assured me – and I am due back there in a couple of weeks for an assessment which will be much more in-depth.

I’m trying to cut down a little. And, I have. I’m on about the equivalent of four or five pints a day at the moment, enough to see off the shivers and the shakes and send me to sleep. Mag goes away again on Monday though and I’m in danger of bingeing then. Why, do I say ‘in danger’? It’s surely something in my control and I could decide not too. I know myself though. I know the call of The Spread, the fear because the Shinei kids will be on holiday.

That’s where we’re at.

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