Farewell to Alcohol
By Melinda M.
Alcohol Rehab Centers:

You have been the longest running dysfunctional relationship of my life.

You were present from my earliest memories, when as a toddler; I finished each of the highball glasses left after my parents’ parties. Later you carried me through all our family events; champagne in crystal flutes, white wine with every meal, liqueurs after dinner.

Alcohol, you sat with us at the place of honor, at the head of the table, ruling our household and destroying our family invisibly from within.

You loved me when I was young and beautiful. You gave me the courage to speak when I was too shy to say a word. You helped me fit in with my friends, friends who drank as I did. We didn’t know another way to live, to have fun, to exist, to love. We were Irish; the creature had haunted us for centuries.

When I left my home, I lost control of you forever. The power had shifted. You did not work for me, I worked for you. At that time, the gracious ways in which I was raised turned to desperate dissolution. Sips from flutes became blackout. Blackouts turned into binges, and then I began to hide.

My world completed its 180 degree turn, when all around me had disappeared; my security, my identity, my home, my family, my life as I knew it. It was just you and I, then you began to turn on me too. My friend became my fiercest foe. I knew it. I tried but I still couldn’t turn away from you.

Still, I came back to you, over and over again, like a woman addicted to the wrong man in the most destructive of relationships. The one that kept her down-trodden and helpless, the man she would call in the middle of the night beckoning him back to her, knowing he would eventually bring her to the brink again.

Time would pass. I would square my shoulders, gain resolve, start fresh and quit drinking. When I began to get strong and independent, you would call for no rhyme or reason, and in a short while I would be lost in the abyss. Again.

We were alone you and I, drinking at home, hiding in shame. I knew I was addicted to you and I couldn’t stop. I couldn’t turn from the solace you provided in the earliest stages of a binge when that warm glow would hit my chest and the outside world slipped farther and farther away.

Too soon I drank too fast to feel that glow. I drank to black out, to pass out and to hide from the fact I didn’t fit in anywhere anymore.

My first AA meeting led me to a full year sober. Shortly thereafter, when time got tough, I fell back into my old patterns. I went back to my source of oblivion, the only way I knew to block the pain, to hide from the failures which seemed insurmountable.

This led to therapy and several more years sober. But again, when the pain got too great, I went back to you and the destruction began.

My years without you have been the happiest in my life. I cannot explain why I turn back to you again and again. I know the end result, but I ignore it and charge ahead blindly one more time. It only took an instant to make that decision to begin to ruin my life once more and I have never been in denial at that moment that decision came, I just didn’t care.

Thirty years I gave to you, more or less; slipping, sober, slipping, struggling, surrendering, recovering, and slipping again. Each time I failed it was harder to stop. The binges lasted longer; the devastation was more desperate than the time before. Each time I had more to lose, but I risked it all to be with you again.

There is nothing elegant in drinking alone in a dark room. It matters not if the glass is crystal or an old jelly jar. I have a skid row in my heart and soul. I am merely a few feet from a market cart and an overcoat chatting to imaginary friends, my filthy hands grasping a small bottle in a brown paper bag.

The time has finally come to say goodbye. I cannot love you any longer. You must leave so I can begin to live. You must step down from my altar of illusion I can just give up because I just don’t care enough to be strong.

It is my turn to begin to live now. I’m old. I’m too tired to fight you any longer. It is time for me to fill the void that has been inside me, the void you never did fill, but only covered and numbed for a little while. It is time to close and lock the door on you and all you have represented to me, all you have done to me, all the harm I have caused myself, all the ways I despise myself for this life long addiction, this destructive love affair which I’ve held onto more than half my life.

There is light around me now. The curtains are lifted. I will not go back into the darkness with you again. There is nowhere to hide. You may not have my new address, the key to my gate, or the gate to my soul, to my heart, to my sanity. I cannot let you in, no matter how loudly you knock on the door, how tempting the oblivion may be when my days are darkest. I will not surrender my marriage to you, my writing to you, my horse to you, or my home to you.

You’re out of time. I’m gone. You will never see me again.

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