Y2 D80

I think I finally understand the mantra of "one day at a time". No, don't misunderstand - I haven't started going to meetings or switched one addiction for another. I still think those people are doofuses who trade booze or drugs for god and cigarettes. Just as bad in my book. No, what I mean is I get that you can't worry about the drink you had yesterday because it's gone or the one you MIGHT have tomorrow. You have to focus on the one you're not having right now. Right at this minute. You have to focus on what do I do when I leave work? Do I go straight home or do I swing by the bar for a quick one. Do I pop in while my car is getting washed? Do I stop at the bar before the movie because I have an hour to kill? You focus on those little decisions. The little moments. You find something else to do. Even if that means going to bed because sleep is the ultimate distraction. Then of course you wake up at 2am and you are insanely bored.

You know what's funny? I have so much booze in my house, that if I were a true alcoholic, I wouldn't be able to handle it. They would take away my card for being a bad alcoholic. I have at *least* 30 bottles of wine. A good dozen or so different liquors. Those I resist without problem. I don't want to drink alone or at home. I want the social. I want to be around noise and people. I want to be in the middle of it all. That's the difference. But one, I don't feel like wasting money in a bar and then two, there's a bigger thing...

I think what I have right now is my own twisted version of 'survivor guilt'. Sometimes when a person dies because of an accident the people who survive feel some remorse in the 'why not me' sort of way. I think I have that because of my brother. Here I have made it my life's passion in some respects to see how far I can push my body. I go to the extreme with drinking, drugs, whatever. I see how much can I take before I truly hit bottom. How far can I go before I make the fatal mistake. And yet, here's this guy - good family guy, doing the best he can every single day to be a good person in a hospital room waiting to have his chest cut open for a new defibrillator.

I know he has made his own choices along the way too - he knew he had this heart condition - it's genetic for fuck's sake. For example, I learned the other night that when they checked him into the hospital he was at 318. He is now down to 299. That is almost TWICE me. I am at 156. A few more pounds and he will be TWICE the size. That's a choice.

But at the same time? Yeah, I feel guilty. So I stop before I go for that drink. I stop before shoving that pill in my mouth. I stop before sticking that straw up my nose. Not for good reasons. But they're my reasons. I had that moment last night. I was dressed, ready to go out on a Friday night. Made it out the door. Then I stopped. I said fuck it, went to the grocery store, and bought some stuff for dinner. I even bought a small split of champagne and figured if I wanted a drink bad enough I could have it with dinner.

It's still in the fridge.