August 6, 2013
It was not a trade or barter of words. I gave my up my bottle for a crown.
The bottle gritty, scuffed, and cracked. Leaking from many drops from the quivering of my hands. Hard falls to the earth, it took many blows. How it still held liquid I did not know. I still managed its drink from within, licking the crevices of moisture too. The cracks seeped the smell into my hands, like that of the most beautiful bouquet of frangrant flowers. All this is in my alcoholics mind, wrapped with insanity in wait for my own demise. Like an emaciated animal in hunt for its next feast. I fed the alcoholic demented mouth of me. Which then fed my soul. I was extinct. There was no one who thought to highly of me. I could not stop, and I knew it. Drinking was all I could do, it made me think less of you. You know “you”. I was so bruised, battered, stained, and in constant flee. A passport was what I consumed, it was my way out of my doom.
Death Lurking over my bed, my grave was a roll away. The walks I took with drunk steps into the coming traffic. Head on, I am right here come on you missed, “come back you stuuupid c-carrrr!” Slurring with a hiss. “Assssholeees”! That is all they are, each and every one I thought.
This was it. I made my back to where I was staying, and as drunk as drunk can be, I sobbed for all my loss. I screamed out in my pain. Mangled cried and clinched fists, I laid prostate on the ground. Screaming, void of relief. I wanted to sink. I was sick, and it was then in that crazed moment I knew how very sick I was. Death was just, but a few drinks away. I was terminally ill, waiting for my kill.
For in my desperation I said this prayer; “Lord I can’t stop, I don’t really want to stop, I would really rather die. That car almost kissed my head, and it missed. So you obviously aren’t going to let me be, so I pray that with my next drink which there will be, for I can’t stop. I pray no matter how much liquor I dump into my cup you make sicker than I have ever been before. If it is full, or even a splash. Make me feel like I may die if I take another drink again. Make me crawl under my skin, make me nauseated at the very taste”.
I could not tell you the exact hour. I just knew I was in need of a shower. I smelled like I had already bathed, but in alcohol I raged. It was oozing from every pore. I had racoon eyes from my mascaras smear, and my hygiene was lacking in my toxic binge. I got up wobbling to the beautiful boxed wine, got my red plastic cup and proceeded my pour. 1/4 inch, easy does it. Already pretty done in. I unclothed, and I got in the shower. Water rushing my face, I reached for my cup.
My body began convulsing with dry heaves, and shaking uncontrollably. I was violently ill, but it was different than that of death. It was if I was being rebirthed. I could not take another sip, or even look into the cup. One thought of the smell made my skin crawl from beneath. It felt like an hour shower, but all that in a matter of minutes.
That day my dear friends was the last day I have tasted alcohol. I found myself sitting in AA that very night. I marvel in the miracle of this day, I give God all the glory.
A shower, and prayer in that final hour. God shook the alcoholic out of me. God adorned me with fresh waters, living waters. It was the best shower I have ever had. My crown placed perfectly upon my head. God got a hold of my heart you see that is now the sobriety in me!