I’ll Quit Tomorrow
"You have to treat this disease like the enemy, it wants you dead". That was the first and only statement I was told when my journey into a sober life began. Make no mistake, this journey is not for the faint of heart. It will break you so you can be built anew. My journey has been gritty and hurtful and I have felt like my soul has been turned inside out. Going through emotions too numerous to count inside a 15-minute window—and that was on a good day. I craved alcohol so badly my bones ached. I questioned my very sanity, not caring if I lost it. I just did not want to feel the things I felt. Demons came to carry away my carcass before I finished dying. My newfound self was only in its infancy, not yet able to survive on its own, so I had no defenses.
Just one more day of peace, I used to tell myself, one more drink. I'll quit tomorrow-- but tomorrow never comes. Only another day lost down the bottle, another day I'll never get back. I would love to say that I got sober for noble reasons, but the truth of it is simply I didn't want to die. I refuse to paint a picture of gratitude, hugs and love—that stuff came later. The beginning of my sobriety took place in the seventh circle of hell, with sometimes selfish self-centered behavior. What keeps me sober is simple: I don't want to go through that again! I will not mislead anyone who is embarking on this journey. It is different for everyone. I cannot and will not dictate to another what their recovery will be. We have to
decide that for ourselves. It's as unique as your fingerprint. No two people share the same pain exactly the same way.
But the sun does rise. Pain can subside, shock wears off. Make no mistake, we’re losing our best friend, our confidant, our evil soulmate, the devil itself. If you've ever lost a loved one, the kind who just lives inside your heart, the pain never goes away we just get used to it. This is very similar. With each passing day that I don't drink, I heal a little bit more. Will I ever be whole? I can't determine that now. I've learned to keep my expectations low and live in today. Just one day at a time.
When I lived in my active alcoholism, I was far away from God. We weren't speaking! I had previously known God in my life. When I was a four year old little girl, I was taking a bath and through a window saw the moon. A light over the moon made the sign of the cross, at that moment I found God. In that image, I found a promise that I would survive the hell I was growing up in. Long nights held at gunpoint, watching my grandfather beat my grandma without mercy. War doesn't just happen in foreign countries. All too often, we live in it every day. It was my morning, noon and night. Many times I felt those nights would never end. I survived, intact and I'm here now living a life in sobriety. God kept the promise my soul heard that night so long ago. That relationship was the touchstone in my life. It took something very powerful to pull me away from God. Alcohol. Sweet oblivion. More powerful than my faith. I believed a lie when I knew the truth. That lie is alcohol.
Today God and I have been reunited by sobriety. A beautiful thing indeed. I couldn't do this alone and I cannot maintain it alone. I didn't reach into hell and pull myself out. That took a divine intervention. Every day I don't put the bottle to my lips is, by definition, a damn good day and I owe that to God.
