There are two ways to view my alcoholism. 1. as a horrible calamity 2. as a gift. On my best days, I can be grateful for alcoholism because it has given me a straight route to my higher power and a need to communicate with God. Unless I was a drunk, I’m not sure I would have sought out the relationship so eagerly. And this truly has been a gift. To know that a prayer, a meditation daily practiced can uplift my consciousness and force me outside of self. Yet, most days I hate being alcoholic and dread the process of sifting through my negative thoughts to find a ray of light. It’s tiresome only because I refuse to give up control. The joke’s on me because I know I am powerless. Still I fight a battle between “good and god-damn-it” each day it seems.
One day soon a shift, a sea change, will take place I’m hopeful. And I will be living more in the happy accident of alcoholism. Until then I recognize my humanity and my flaws and remind myself of “progress not perfection.”