Solace Without Alcohol

Back in my early twenties, when my alcoholism really began to take hold, I could still "feel that warm thrill of confusion, that space cadet glow," as Pink Floyd would say. But like many day-in, day-out alcoholics, there was no joy for me in my drinking the year or two before I admitted I needed help. In the end, it was just a resentful trip to the liquor store, drinking alone, getting numb, resenting I had to drink, and waking up the next morning feeling like I'd been stepped on by an elephant.

These days, I don't have to take that trip any more. And while I can't say I jump out of bed every morning and do cartwheels at the prospect of each new day, I do have the self-respect of facing everything life throws at me -- the joys and the sorrows -- completely, and fully, present. For me, that's not a small thing.

I also find that when I'm living the Twelve Steps as best I can, the joys resonate longer, and the sorrows fade more quickly.

Honestly: I don't think I'll ever re-experience the quick-fix euphoria my early days of drinking gave me.

But I also see that fix for what it is: a lie I crawled back to again and again, always hoping it would be true to me, and always feeling it cripple my spirit just a little bit more.

The kind of euphoria I get off on these days is watching one alcoholic helping another, and if my own house is in order, getting the opportunity to help another alcoholic myself -- or simply to help another human being.

It's the kind of euphoria that, for me, builds imperceptibly inside me, and strengthens my spirit the same way working out sculpts a body builder.

Alcohol never did that for me.

Never will.

-Joe@aalivechat.com