Close call but no cigar.

I’m still grappling with the enigmatic nature of my recovery. I’m getting closer to figuring out what works, and what doesn’t.

Yesterday evening was interesting. It was the first time I’d seriously contemplated secretly drinking some wine. And strangely enough, even at the strongest points of my craving, I somehow knew this time I wasn’t going to cave.

I don’t know how I knew. I always seem to ‘know’ when I’m going to cave. But this time I felt sure I wasn’t, even though I was going through the motions of plotting that first sneaky drink.

So thankful it didn’t happen.

I used every trick in the book. Here’s a few I tend to employ.

  1. Remind myself the thought isn’t real. It’s really hard, but I have to remind myself that I don’t have to identify with the thought and emotion. They don’t define me, and don’t have to drive all my actions.
  2. Surf the tide. I try to remind myself that the thoughts, and feelings, will pass with time. I need to trust that I will not die if I don’t abide by them. The pain is only temporary. I’ll be stoked I didn’t do it in the morning.
  3. Try to channel compassion for my body. I try to remember that if I drink I am no longer honoring my mind, body, and spirit.
  4. Stay present. This used to work like a gem for me, but lately it hasn’t had the power it used to. I still try and harness it, however, because I think it’s always important to reign myself into the present moment.

I think what’s really important is to keep my mind healthy and away from that place where my alcoholic mind begins to plot and scheme for the first drink. It’s so much work! And it’s painful! But so worth keeping my brain at bay from that place.

I feel as though yesterday there was a small, thin thread tied between myself and the universe. My connection to it has felt scant lately, though I’m sure I’m not giving myself enough credit for this last week.

One thing that does stand out to me, however, about this last week is there has been a complete absence of fear of the future. My ‘future tripping’ as it’s called (apparently) has been one of the worst head spaces that I’ve struggled to get over, and something I find tends to contribute to my overall mental pain.

 

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