Paradise

There's a not insignificant piece of me that dreams about being drunk all the time. In a perfect world, this piece of me says, I could drink from dawn til dusk til dawn again. I would be wealthy, somehow. I would have a maid to clean the house. I wouldn't have to work. I would live someplace sunny, and each morning I would enjoy mimosas and "special" coffees, the hot afternoons I would sip beer, and at night I would enjoy the company of others while we partied into the wee hours...

A life free of consequence and responsibility, where I would be at liberty to enjoy all the intoxicants I could imbibe....

It's a sweet fantasy, but it has no actual bearing on reality.

The last few days, I've been reading Immortal Alcoholic, the journal of Linda, a woman married to an end-stage alcoholic. It is an amazing story, tragic and horrific but somehow inspiring and funny at the same time. Linda does her research. She is matter-of-fact. She knows how to get things done, and if she doesn't she knows how to find out.

Her recounting of her life, the challenges she's facing, and the details she provides about the nature of end-stage alcoholism are the perfect antidote for my drinking fantasy. Her reality, of living with a man who is disconnected from everything but the bottle, on the verge of one medical catastrophe after another, is the reality that I would inflict on my loved ones if I truly "lived the life" of drinking all the time.

This weekend I reach 4 months of sobriety, and I am going to do what I can to ensure that I go a lot longer.