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Well, my mother mortgaged her life away to send me to the best schools. I never fit in at these schools, we never had enough, our cars weren't as nice as the other families, the house wasn't big enough. I never really felt good enough or maybe it was always less than. One or the other or both.

I found alcohol early at the age of 9. And it did for me what I couldn't do for myself.  It made us equal or made me better than you. But after a while, I knew it didn't do much. And it was my own mask. Bc if I kept up the life of the party or the funny drunk long enough or dare you cross me and I said it loud enough, well, then you wouldn't know how scared I actually was. How inadequate I felt all my life and what the power of alcohol had over me and what it DID for me.

I look at it honestly and can I really blame her for leaving? She was just another bottle that I consumed. Another God I believed in- because she made me feel just like Jack Daniels. And just like him, I drank her straight from the bottle. So, can I blame her for leaving me? Can I say it was all her and her disorder? What about mine? The answer:

NO!

Here's to you, Girl... . thanks for the 14, I didn't deserve that long. And I can no longer be the nice guy on these boards with none of my own shame, guilt, and dishonesty. Thanks for letting me see what I needed to see about me!

www.m.youtube.com/watch?v=PgvSJPs7Hlk

Arn, you've worked very hard to come to this point.  One of the positives of reaching a point of sadness is that the next stage is acceptance.  What are a couple of things you are grateful for right now?  What are some of the silver linings you see?

We're here for you.

I'm grateful for having her in my life. I'm grateful I learned who I was in all of this pain. I see how I triggered her working in a barroom. How that made her jealous and going to work for me was technically going out. I could drink behind the bar when I wanted to, and I would come home late.

I see how she triggered me and when I would try to get sober, she didn't want me to be and would say that she wanted to be able to drink a glass of wine and go out and she could no longer do those things... . so I said F- it! And drank.

I'm grateful that I know I can't have another sip of whiskey or drink another beer. I am grateful my son is in more peace today then he's ever been in. I'm grateful I know the exact nature of my problem, and although, I still work behind a bar, I'm done at the end of this season, and I am strong enough to walk away from it at the end of the night.

I could see her as an albatross or dead weight or someone who killed me deep inside. Or I could see her as a blessing. I don't know, man. I really do think that it's all in our perception, right?

I know how my life can be when I'm sober... . I got her to thank for finding myself in all this... . how can I not be thankful. My truth hit me square in the nuts and that truth hurts, but if I hadn't lost her, I'd still be drinking, lying about it, covering it up, and being the same old Arn.

I didn't like the old Arn. Never had, maybe, just maybe, I'll like the new one... . I'm my own replacement! Lol! I'm my own new and shiny!

Hahaha

Well, I'm not "man," but I say right! 


Wisdom, Arn.  You have a lot to be proud of, and I admire your honesty and the work you've done.  You are finding what you (and many, many others) look(ed) for in bottles and women and accomplishment.  That is huge.  I'm with you on the gratitude: the pain breaks us open, and it hurts to crash through the armor to the tender stuff inside.  But the armor kept out everything that could really touch us (love us!), so I choose breaking open every time.

Keep on keepin' on, and share what you find with us, please.  :)

Arn,

Congratulations, and thank you for sharing.

I don't know how long you spent behind your mask of liquid courage.

I spent about four straight years that way.  That was a dark time in my life.

It sounds to me from your story that you are in a place of peace and healing, and I'm glad to hear that.