The worst part about my active drinking days was when I got sick. Literally ill: flu, cold, virus. It would really mess with my drinking. Bedridden, fighting off bacteria and boredom, I get force-fed time to look at my life. I’m laying on the bathroom floor, wishing my sickness would go away so I could resume my insanity and stop punishing myself with these flu-induced moments of clarity.
That thought process is alive and well in me to this day. Only now it works in the opposite direction. No more liquor and extra money means rewarding myself for my sobriety. Hey, I’ve earned this or that through working my program. But I wonder: could these little indulgences be dry-runs for testing the drinking waters?
Funny thing is, I fail all proposed tests. See, I have a little bit of a big problem with moderation. I work hard for a day and feel I deserve a treat. I’m going to have some Doritos. Eat the entire family size bag in one sitting? Of course. Vomit up softballs of orange clay at 2 in the morning? It’s happened more than once. This alcoholic has a problem with snack chips. That goes for coffee (until I’m shaking), cigarettes (until I’m hacking), food (until I’m bloated), etc. What else you got that ain’t booze or drugs that I can overdo?
I need to remember that my sobriety by itself is a treat. One that I get to unwrap and suck on all day.
Worst. Analogy. Ever.
12 the hard way 
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