As of the 2nd of February, 2018, I have been sober for 35 days. The last time I had any liquor was a mere two days before the new year set in. It was the 29th of December, and I thought not of celebrating the spirit of festivity in silence or by doing something else interesting. Not that I had been riding the wave of some good luck or fortune which made me happy in-itself, rather I was only distraught at how serious my habit of imbibing a useless substance which continually beat me into senselessness was becoming.
Drinking had constantly degraded the quality of my consciousness into something deeply vulgar. I did not like this gradual declivity into alcoholism, and more often than not I had ignored that I had been, in fact, an alcoholic for …show more content…
I had crashed into a glass-pane. I do not remember the following week very well. I was certainly in deep pain for a while, and that pain is what possibly distracted my vicious urge to drink. The day right after the accident, I went out with my head held high, and walked right into a distant bar. I sipped on what was my last drink, with the left side of my face bloodied along with a deep laceration stretching all the way from the corner of my eye-lid, down to the middle-portion of my …show more content…
Don’t then let this directing mind of yours enslave you any longer – no more jerking to the strings of selfish impulse, and no more disquiet at your present, or suspicion of your future fate. You have a long way to go, and you do not know how long it shall be. It makes sense to take a step one day at a time, but things can get ugly very fast, and you do not like anything whimsical. Things that are whimsical cannot be trusted, but only pitied. The first sip of a drink later I become whimsical. No such self-pity ought to exist. You make decent progress, and with time you can get back to being a part of the world-at-large, without the silliness of having your will overwhelmed by
Drinking had constantly degraded the quality of my consciousness into something deeply vulgar. I did not like this gradual declivity into alcoholism, and more often than not I had ignored that I had been, in fact, an alcoholic for …show more content…
I had crashed into a glass-pane. I do not remember the following week very well. I was certainly in deep pain for a while, and that pain is what possibly distracted my vicious urge to drink. The day right after the accident, I went out with my head held high, and walked right into a distant bar. I sipped on what was my last drink, with the left side of my face bloodied along with a deep laceration stretching all the way from the corner of my eye-lid, down to the middle-portion of my …show more content…
Don’t then let this directing mind of yours enslave you any longer – no more jerking to the strings of selfish impulse, and no more disquiet at your present, or suspicion of your future fate. You have a long way to go, and you do not know how long it shall be. It makes sense to take a step one day at a time, but things can get ugly very fast, and you do not like anything whimsical. Things that are whimsical cannot be trusted, but only pitied. The first sip of a drink later I become whimsical. No such self-pity ought to exist. You make decent progress, and with time you can get back to being a part of the world-at-large, without the silliness of having your will overwhelmed by