Wednesday, March 6, 2013


I just wanted to let you all know that I haven't run off and joined the circus (although it is circus season down here and if you think circus's in the states look a little rough around the edges, you should come to Mexico. Shudder!), I'm just juggling priorities right now and trying not to drop anything.

How wonderful!

To have a life. To be busy.  To have a purpose.  To have a reason to get up in the morning other than drink!!

To be sober!

I am so grateful.

Now to change my train of thought in the middle of the tracks, as I'm wont to do.  A member posted on the moderation management board the other day that she was grateful for the struggle, she was grateful that at least she had a desire to change when it seemed so many didn't.  So many seemed to be happily drinking themselves to death.  (not her exact words or intent, I'm taking artistic license here).

I wrote back and said, "Don't be too sure.  You don't know that those people don't wake up every day and say to themselves, "Today is the day I'm going to quit. Today is the day, I'm going to take back my life." only to fail once again."

That was me.  It may have looked like I was just a drunk who didn't care while deep down, underneath the blood shot eyes, splotchy skin, shaky hands...I was consumed with the desire to change.

I remember there were these two guys I knew in high school, I'll call them Bubba and Butch.  Bubba was your typical muscle brained athlete who liked to pick me up and dump me in the trashcan or body slam me on the wrestling mats, that was his way of showing me that he liked me.  Butch was the stereotypical dreamy bad boy with big beautiful green eyes, long feathered hair (it was the 70's), soft lips (yep, I know for a fact they were soft) and, down deep, a heart of gold.

They were teenage hard partying boys, that grew into adult hard partying men.  They did drugs, a lot of drugs, they didn't go to college, they held and lost multiple jobs and women.  I liked them a lot but I always held myself above them.  I was better than them. I didn't hold out much hope for either of them.  I figured they'd go through life stoned and wind up as shriveled shaky old drunks at the ripe old age of 49, minus the majority of their teeth, on a liver transplant list. If they were lucky.

I lost track of them through the years but lo and behold, through the magic of facebook, I found them again a couple of years ago.  And guess what?  They had sobered up and cleaned up their act and there I was flushing my life down the proverbial shitter of alcoholism.

Alcohol doesn't play favorites and it doesn't matter if you're rich, poor, famous, infamous, brilliant, or just an average Joe, there are no advantages.

If Bubba, Butch and I can do it, you can.


  1. Hi Kary May, Catching up with you. Need to read more to find out how you have been doing but hope this post indicates that all is well. I agree with what you are saying. In my view there are fewer "normies" out there than we think. My good heavy drinking friend who was not hugely sympathetic to my giving up last year just announced that she has stopped drinking. She was the one who told me she never had a hangover, never lost her memory and was quite happy with her drinking. Clearly this was not the case. So now I am very skeptical about what people tell me about their drinking. After all its not like I haven't lied. Karl Marx was wrong on lots of stuff but the one thing he said which rings true for me is "If appearnace and reality coincided, there would be no need for social science." Too true me thinks.

  2. Very true! I've always felt pity for the local drunken homeless. They wander about town clearly under the influence; they stumble around and slur their words. But do you know what really makes them different than me? They are not hiding their disease! Yep, that's pretty much it! Most of them have probably been drinking longer than me too...but with less support and resources, I would still be doing my very best to catch up with them.

  3. "Alcohol doesn't play favorites and it doesn't matter if you're rich, poor, famous, infamous, brilliant, or just an average Joe, there are no advantages."

    Truer words were never written.

    Like Mary above said, there wasn't much difference between me and that person I would step over on the street. In the end of my drinking, I was one or two steps away from being that guy. It could have easily have been me. And I can't forget that, ever. Like you said, I looked down on a lot of people, and there I was just pounding the stuff back like it was no tomorrow. Part of my disease was thinking that I was better off and better than, when all along I was just another garden-variety drunk. Drinking and getting drunk.

    The great news is what you said at the end - anyone can do it. It's never too late. I know guys who were on the verge of wet brain, guys who were on suicide watch, guys who had been given up for dead, guys who got sober in their 60's and 70's...all sober and happy now.

    What a joy! No circus needed :)

    Wonderful post...thanks!


  4. This made me cry. That's why I love your blog - you get it!
    I wrote back and said, "Don't be too sure. You don't know that those people don't wake up every day and say to themselves, "Today is the day I'm going to quit. Today is the day, I'm going to take back my life." only to fail once again."

  5. Good for Bubba and Butch. And good for you. It just comes when it comes.
    Not much to add, but just wanted to let you know I was listening (reading)!

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  7. Ok, you got me.

    While snuggled in my therapist's couch yesterday, I began hearing myself admit that I hold myself above the (many) homeless methadone patients I care for. While this feeling was kept deep within,,, I knew better in my mind. Good grief; I'd done this before,, romanticized my ":high bottom" chardonnay habit. That got me locked up in jail due to stinking thinking.

    But these patients of mine.. heroine addicts, opioids - not my drug of choice,, never had a needle in my arm. God have mercy on me!!!!!!!!!!!!!

    I was just SO relieved that , this time, I could catch this type of thinking. It will send us right back to the shitter you referred to. And fast.

    I am , but ,, a lowly drunk,, no better than a heroine addict residing under the bridge and at the Salvation Army in the winter.