chapter 5. How it works. part 9.
Pages 58 and 59 for those of you playing at home.

I could make this post every day, because I’m forever tightening my grip.

Some of us have tried to hold onto our old ideas and the result was nil until we let go absolutely.

When I wake up in a bad mood, i.e., I’ve got no conscious thought in my head yet but my grumpy’s already waiting, that’s when I dig into my mental filing cabinet and start pulling out stuff. What’s the matter? What’s bugging me? My fingers flip through folders until they land on something I can resent. And I’m off and running.

Or I’ll reach into my bucket of “shoulds”. Beat myself up for things not accomplished. That way I’ve got the anger, I’ve got the self-pity. My two favorite additives.

I don’t miss drinking, but I’m not yet recoiling as if from a hot flame. So when the disease is sitting on the end of the bed first-thing, kick it off like the cat. Because a headful of no good makes the odds of pulling into a gas station for reasons other than gas go up. One day will always become two. I’m right back to plotting and scheming and avoiding and isolating and lying.

Point of order: Let’s not forget that I am not a better person drunk: not nicer, not funnier, not productive, not helpful, not grateful. 

I’m not anything with alcohol.
It’s an old story but I’ll tell it again: I’m not anything with alcohol.

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