A break-up letter...
I wrote this letter while attending treatment for my Alcohol Use Disorder at Bellwood in Oct/Nov 2018. I am happy to report that I remain sober and active in Recovery to this day. My sober date is Oct.10, 2018. For anyone out there struggling with addiction, there really is hope and sanity once you are willing and ready. Love and Light.
November 18, 2018
Dear Alcohol,
Ive been without you for 38 days now. I know you're telling me, "So what? You've been without me for longer in the past! And you always come back to me!"
I'm free enough, now, from your vice-like grip. My knuckles are no longer white and stiff from the sheer terror of holding on, afraid to be without you.
There was once a time in my life where I was afraid to have too much of you. I respected your power and the toxicity you wielded over the human body and mind. I experienced several scattered incidents with you, where I lost myself in the blur and maze of your fermentation. And it felt wretched. I was able to set boundaries with you. I still had enough love and respect for myself at that time in my life, that a healthy fear kept me in check.
But you were patient. You continued with your ways, enjoying the company of others. Occasionally popping by for a warm embrace, ever reminding me that you were there for me if I needed you.
And when the time came in my life, when I needed comfort, that warm embrace, someone to curl up with and forget all my worries and pain, there you were. Arms open wide, ready and willing to scoop me up and carry me away to oblivion.
And just like any other intimate relationship that I've had, I dove in graciously. You were my new love. You became my obsession.
Your tendrils were slow and sneaky, slipping in and gripping me. And if felt so good. You helped me forget my troubles and worries. You tamed my anxiety and anger. You stoked my passion and want for human touch. You obliterated my inhibitions. I felt free, alive, a fire in my soul! Until...I didn't...
I eventually burned to the ground. But I now felt and innate fear of not having you in my life. You were destroying me, your tendrils so deep and entrenched into every living cell, squeezing out the very essence of me, until I was only a shell of my former self. And still I clung on, because now all of me, was all of you.
Frightened that without you, death was imminent. But what was even more frightening was knowing deep down, with you, death was a higher probability.
And so my love, here I am, 38 days without you, proactively and skillfully cutting away and peeling off your tendrils. Feeding my heart, soul and body with love, care and compassion. Replenishing and mending all the empty spaces. Redecorating and putting myself back together with all the pieces of my best self. Acknowledging, accepting, forgiving and moving forward.
Ive found the one thing, the love that I've needed all along...myself.
Our story ends here, dear wretched, poisonous, destructive, demoralizing, cunning, baffling and powerful alcohol. You will not be missed.
VMacKEw
November 18, 2018
Dear Alcohol,
Ive been without you for 38 days now. I know you're telling me, "So what? You've been without me for longer in the past! And you always come back to me!"
I'm free enough, now, from your vice-like grip. My knuckles are no longer white and stiff from the sheer terror of holding on, afraid to be without you.
There was once a time in my life where I was afraid to have too much of you. I respected your power and the toxicity you wielded over the human body and mind. I experienced several scattered incidents with you, where I lost myself in the blur and maze of your fermentation. And it felt wretched. I was able to set boundaries with you. I still had enough love and respect for myself at that time in my life, that a healthy fear kept me in check.
But you were patient. You continued with your ways, enjoying the company of others. Occasionally popping by for a warm embrace, ever reminding me that you were there for me if I needed you.
And when the time came in my life, when I needed comfort, that warm embrace, someone to curl up with and forget all my worries and pain, there you were. Arms open wide, ready and willing to scoop me up and carry me away to oblivion.
And just like any other intimate relationship that I've had, I dove in graciously. You were my new love. You became my obsession.
Your tendrils were slow and sneaky, slipping in and gripping me. And if felt so good. You helped me forget my troubles and worries. You tamed my anxiety and anger. You stoked my passion and want for human touch. You obliterated my inhibitions. I felt free, alive, a fire in my soul! Until...I didn't...
I eventually burned to the ground. But I now felt and innate fear of not having you in my life. You were destroying me, your tendrils so deep and entrenched into every living cell, squeezing out the very essence of me, until I was only a shell of my former self. And still I clung on, because now all of me, was all of you.
Frightened that without you, death was imminent. But what was even more frightening was knowing deep down, with you, death was a higher probability.
And so my love, here I am, 38 days without you, proactively and skillfully cutting away and peeling off your tendrils. Feeding my heart, soul and body with love, care and compassion. Replenishing and mending all the empty spaces. Redecorating and putting myself back together with all the pieces of my best self. Acknowledging, accepting, forgiving and moving forward.
Ive found the one thing, the love that I've needed all along...myself.
Our story ends here, dear wretched, poisonous, destructive, demoralizing, cunning, baffling and powerful alcohol. You will not be missed.
VMacKEw
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