[Sober Living] Life After Insobriety

I’m still five years clean and five years sober, but that third counter, the addiction to weakness: that’s been going for a few days now. Writing about that helped. Let’s run through an essay about how it’s been over the few days of being in and out of that old familiar zombing drone. It wasn’t without event casualties, though I’m feeling more solid while writing this than I have in a week… or perhaps more?

The morning after is always the worst.

There’s that lingering regret over just what happened. In the case of diphenhydramine, an innocent antihistamine that in higher doses has numbing delirant properties, it’s sleeping in until near ruin with none of the spirit to show for it.

I pushed through it well enough.

When I got home, I flushed away the remaining two pills to not tempt me, and I don’t think I’ll be buying any more bottles. If needed for allergies, I’ll buy those perforated punch-card packages, and if I get too many, I’ll throw away the rest.

The day after that’s the worst.

The withdrawal kicks in. Your body needs it more than it needs food or water. You’re not hungry or thirsty, you’re just irritable, irrational, and illogical. Great mindspace for an interview. One of the more important ones in months.

I haven’t been out for two days and counting.

There was a concert last night. I bought the ticket back in January and had been earnestly trying to prepare to go for the whole day. Things were looking good up until about 30 minutes before I needed to go.

I noticed a little flash of light.

Maybe it was just a car’s headlights reflecting off the windows? Could’ve been at a certain angle to reflect just off to the right of my center of vision. At the moment when I was preparing to go, elsewhere, a second flash.

Damn it. I wanted to go…

Stuff like that’s been happening over the past five or six years when I push myself too hard. I suspect my brain is just too overwhelmed, physically or mentally, so it throws any sort of fit it can. It’s never real. It’s just temporary.

It would be irresponsible to leave in that condition.

Between a good night’s rest and a fairly calm day, things are looking up now. I’ve been spending more time with media that makes me feel good, or at least forget about my current woes. That’s what I did before to kick cannabis and alcohol.

Cannabis took me about six months to get over.

Alcohol was easier because it was a lingering pang that flared up every few weeks or months for maybe about 4 to 6 months prior?

Diphenhydramine will be more difficult.

It’s the only one of the three I can have a legitimate excuse for keeping around, which makes it the easiest to abuse.

It’s also probably done the most damage.

Now that droning delirant is out of my system, life is returning to normal.

Sources: April 3rd through April 7th 2018

Quotes: None

Inspirations: The need to tell this story.

Related: All references in-line.

Photo: Seattle’s waterfront. I thought it’d be fun to run with the drone analogy for just a bit, so excuse that if it was a little too cheesy of a pun.

My big goal is to write. My important goal is to write "The Story." My proudest moment is the most recent time I overcame a fear, which should have been today. I'm a better zombie than I was yesterday. Let's strive to be better everyday. (Avatar)