Friday, December 16, 2005

A Drink and A Smoke

I keep trying to get a good night's sleep. Some people have a hobby or two, I have a bit of a quest. It is this quest for sleep that last night led me to drink. After more than a few days suffering from the local virus and doing very little other than hacking and blowing my nose, I decided I was going to go out and sit with my friend, the vodka tonic.

I don't consider myself an alcoholic, but I am an addict where alcohol often leads to other drugs and bad decision making. I went out anyway, knowing my promise to myself that I would not be making those bad decisions. I was just going out to have a drink, maybe some conversation, and then, finally and hopefully, maybe some actual sleep.

I saddled up to the bar and sipped my drink. I talked to some people about what amounted to nothing and I killed some time during those hours between 11pm and 2am. I fought the boredom of being alone and awake in a bar with thoughts of myself, half-asleep and screaming at home,wrestling the same nightmares. Then I had thoughts of a new letter I had written to my family discussing what I might need from them regarding my healing process.

The letter was on my mind. It didn't matter what song was on the jukebox in the otherwise quiet bar or that I knew the drunken guy the management was throwing out for being a letch. The two guys next to me continued to try to reach into my preoccupied mind as the sweet-tart tonic washed the vodka down smoothly. Do I send the letter? I came to no conclusion as I sipped my drink.

With no great epiphany, I slid off the stool and went on my way home. I didn't finish my last drink or my last smoke. I had had enough. I arrived home and crawled into bed, hoping for the alcohol to work a miracle on my subconscious. About a half hour later I found myself bouncing onto the floor, sweating and flailing. My breath was quick and I could see it all again; the bathroom, his naked legs, the water, my tears dropping into it. For those first few minutes of awake I could see it all as if I was still there. As I pulled myself off of the floor, I realized, I still am.


Blogger Steaming Dragon said...


No,I'm not being rude or mean or any of that.
And I am serious. Congrats for going home without falling off the wagon. You know what I mean.
I, for one am PROUD of you.
I am also proud to know a little OF you via this blog.

Good show, Red, one BIG atta-girl for you!
I owe you a hug.

16/12/05 5:56 PM  

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