Good morn alcoholics!! Season's Greetings and all that!

I will say that waking up not hungover is quite a thing on a Sunday. Facts are Saturday is a danger zone for so many of us, given Sunday is "recovery day" for many, and add the holiday parties, it can be a lot. 

I am relieved that I am sober this Christmas. I haven't drank since July, which is not something I was certain i could really do if asked a few years ago. My husband believes "it's all behind me", and despite my brother literally dying at the age of 42 from drinking (and covid but also liver failure), I don't know if anybody is really ever done. Anyone who has been to a meeting has likely heard about people sober X years and relapsing.

My close friend had some issues with the law and quit drinking for a year. I was so proud of her, her streak was longer than mine and felt she had a handle on it. She said, as a single woman, Friday nights are the worst. It is a head game. She wants to decompress after her work week. She met a guy, of course he likes to drink, and she was casually joining him here and there despite explaining her struggle. He didn't care. (Can u say red flag?) It was a new relationship, and he became threatening and she didn't feel safe, and in the country with no service and no options she drove with alcohol in her system and hit a bad patch of road and flipped her SUV.

The vehicle caught on fire, and she had to heroically punch her windshield out to escape. Thank God she is a fitter, more spry person than I as likely I would be toast.

Of course she wakes in hospital handcuffed to bed! They found alcohol and she was put before a judge and then night in jail after released from medical. Now her life is spiralled, another long climb out with massive fines and license loss and likely probation. It is so dark, so fucking apocalyptic, that I wish I could take her to an island and get her head out of it for awhile. 

So yeah, it never stops destroying. I was at Tim Horton's yesterday morn to buy a Cruller and coffee, letting the twilight sparkle kick around my head, and, kids in school, that moment hits me. I could be a sneeky bitch and buy a bottle of champagne right now, have my own private morning party. 

I have to whip my brain back to reality. I have the grim death of my only sibling hanging over me. I may think i am having a Marilyn moment with mimosa, but am actually Snooky like a bottle rocket set off in the house. I have a wall. I have a husband and two sons who will make my life a living hell if they think I'm drinking. It's like that. 

Obviously i am grateful. I have been given love. I have people who stop me from destroying myself. That's everything when you have a disease of addiction. Though, to be honest, I think addicts exploit that a lot. You love me! You HAVE TO PUT UP WITH THIS. Do they? My brother was a beautiful person, and Coldplay/Radiohead/Eliot Smith fan, a guy who really loved golf and was truly a gentle natured person. And like Eliot Smith, he committed his own suicide by booze. He gave up on his life.

People. Gave. Up. On. Him. He died alone. He died for weeks in the hospital and despite promises no one messaged him. No one picked up a phone. Goodbye alcoholic who dies alone, forgotten by the world.