I hit my last drink a little over eleven years ago, and just yesterday, I was headed to detox at the local ICU.
Given how much I had been drinking, the rehab facility doubted I’d make it through detox, so they kept me isolated.
I really wanted to reach that milestone. I thought, “What if the police ask, ‘Have you been drinking today?'”
The ICU was ready to take me in, but they said I needed to stop the shaking and the withdrawal symptoms before checking in.
So, I chugged half a quart of Johnny Walker Black and drove myself there. That was my final drink.
Moving On
I appreciate simplicity, and I definitely do not miss the chaos of alcoholism. But, there’s an emptiness inside.
A part of me feels hollow and I just keep trying to fill it, but it’s elusive.
In the recovery programs, they refer to it as “a hole shaped like God.” They suggest that the only way to fill this emptiness is through God’s love and purpose.
Well, I do have God in my life and I’m trying to follow His path as best as I can. Sometimes it’s clear, sometimes it’s obscured. But I’m on that road.
I strive to do the next right thing, over and over.
Along with my faith, I have a career, family, friends, and interests to indulge in. And something incredible is happening. For instance, I wrote a book and someone actually published it—something unimaginable when I was drinking.
Looking Ahead
Yet, the emptiness lingers. It drives me to find something to fill that void. There are times when I feel the urge to run—just leave it all behind, forget work and family, and hit the road. Don’t look back. I’ll sort it out as I go.
Just go. Just run.
And perhaps I’ll discover what I’m missing if I don’t keep punishing myself. Maybe there’s a way to fill that void.
From what I gather, this feeling is quite common among those in recovery from addiction. Many are always pursuing that high, rendering everything else a letdown.
But I can’t help but wonder…
Was that emptiness always there? It existed long before the drugs and alcohol. Maybe the addiction was just my misguided attempt to fill it.
And maybe I can’t rid myself of it. Perhaps it will always accompany me, and I’ll need to find a way to coexist with it.
But in the program, they also emphasize not to dwell too much on these thoughts. Life has to be lived fully because worrying can be completely overwhelming.
Daily Steps
That’s my approach. I take it one day at a time.
And today is a good day. I have everything I need.
I’ll worry about tomorrow when it gets here.
Just the other weekend, I returned from a fishing trip. While driving down a mountain road, I noticed a sign flashing, “Slow” and “Drinking Checkpoint ahead.”
I wanted to reach that checkpoint. I envisioned the police asking, “Have you had anything to drink today?”
And I wanted to proudly say, “I haven’t touched a drop since July 7th, 2014!”
Then maybe we’d share a laugh, and he might congratulate me before moving on.
But, I didn’t get to say my piece. By the time I reached the checkpoint, they’d already closed up for the day.
I guess I’ll just have to try again next year.
