Chapter One: The Discernment
Having to work through who you are is the bigger part of sobriety. I drank for forty years, mostly every night. After retirement, day drinking too. I'd give it a pretty name, like brunch. Obviously that called for a pretty beverage — Irish coffee, Mimosa, Bloody Mary, etc. Hell, I'd call a shot of Jack Daniels standing straight before the coffee brews, “That’s the ticket. Hold on day, I'm a'comin’!” So when I put it down, it was with a shaking hand. Fact is, I suffered through six days of severe delirium tremens alone. No doctors, no meetings, no step programs, plush recovery spas, or miracle drugs. Blood and sweat is what it was. Constant gut-ripping nausea, headache, trembling, drool cup, constant spousal assistance, self-loathing, and a thousand bathroom trips, if lucky. Misery. Above all else, there was a determination I'd forgotten I had. A self-respect that, though beaten, still claimed, dare I say, pride of place. At 722 days sober, I can truly say that working through who I am is the harder part. The good news is I’m still here for the doing of it. Some of us learn through dreams and visions the strengths we need to stay grounded in the real. Know, gentle friend, we all have those times of doubt and uncertainty. But yet and still, deliberately, with a surehearted tenacity, we persevere because we are good people and worth knowing, it's what we have to give this world.
And I will march into my third years sober in a few days proud.Remember, there is no magic in the finding of self, and no time limit either. I'm 70 years old and believe I still have many things left to learn — good and bad alike. Dreams can teach, if we learn to witness them rather than participate in them. Be strong.
