I woke up facing a white brick wall, covered with a paper-thin gray blanket, shivering. Well, I thought, there's more to this than I can figure out right now, and there didn't seem to be anyone around, so I decided to lay there. I stared at the ceiling for a moment while I tried to remember how I ended up on this cot, but drew a blank. It'll come back, I thought, just don't force it. I pulled the blanket over my head, but my shoe-less feet were exposed. Jail, I decided. At least I had put on socks that night, or day. Turning my head, I saw the stainless steel toilet an arm's length away. My face felt heavy with flesh. I wondered how long I had been here? I could see a time clock through the little window in the door. Maybe when I heard the sounds of the shift change, I could put something together. In the meantime, I curled up so the blanket would just about cover me, faced the wall, and closed my eyes. Gotta wait these things out..
I sat up...didn't feel too bad, took an inventory of myself, no major injuries. I still couldn't put a thought together - I stared at the wall and noticed some kind of stain. Old blood? Maybe someone had hacked up some phlegm, but it was the wrong color. I moved down the cot a bit, and put my head in my hands, listening. What the hell? I thought. I haven't been inside a cell for a few years, and had only been drinking for a week or so. The usual thoughts of self preservation ran through my head...about my job, relationship, etc., then I realized I didn't know what day or time it was, so why waste energy on that. Shit. I hit the floor and did about twenty-five push-ups, just to take some of the edge off, then crawled back onto the cot. The brown stain was about six inches from my nose, so I curled the blanket over my head, feeling my heart beat.
Stories and reflections on my own experiences with alcohol as I journey into recovery, starting with the end run. This is a story, so the oldest posts are at the beginning. I add to the back end. Best read from the beginning. Pay no attention to the date stamps, if you are looking for new additions, scroll to the end. There are 10 entries per page. Current count is 62 entries. A work in progress, of course, as am I.
Sunday, June 28, 2015
The Beginning.
Labels:
addiction,
alcoholic,
alcoholism,
autobiography,
detox,
drinking,
insanity,
recovery,
rehab,
sobriety
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Wow, I can feel the tension building - where is this headed - I'm in need of more!
ReplyDeletePLease pop on over to lLast 100 Days Alcoholic and get in touch, we need to talk, Thanks Bren