You can call me Crash.
This is an exercise in figuring it all out.
I went to a meeting and decided that today would be the day that I said “shove it” to my program. (which in all honesty I haven’t been working to the best of my ability for the last two weeks.)
I got a little cash in hand, always a dangerous place for me, and I was going to go out and reward myself for 61 days clean and sober by having a few drinks.
Then I logged onto facebook, saw a picture of one of my heavy drinking friends, and realized how dead she looks. Her skin is grey and her eyes are dark and sunken.
When I got home from rehab a friend commented on how much better my skin looked, that I didn’t look grey anymore. I was shocked; I got complimented on my skin many times in the weeks before entering treatment, and I’d had no idea.
Do I want a drink? Hell yes I want a drink. I want to lose control and have a reason for the misery that’s still swallowing me. But will I?
No, because I’ll be damned if I walk around looking dead while pretending I’m living life.