My body and soul protest – together – in a demonstration against the great demon, alcohol. And no, I’m not the alcoholic. I have a family member who is.
I’m a teetotaller myself. Every little cell in my body, every brain cell and every little inch of my immeasurable soul absolut detest alcohol. I hate the stuff. It’s a vicious killer and a destroyer of families.
I made a cardinal error in trying to forget the hellish year back then. In order to survive at the time, I put the lid on the dustbin, hoping all those feelings would stay there. Stay away from me. I made another one in thinking I could go to an open meeting at AA with my family member. What on earth possessed me?
It was – and it still is and will be for a long time – a flash-back from that year I spent at the bottom of a black pit. Now the pit follows me wherever I go, and it is constantly trying to devour me. And I let it. There’s nothing I can do about it. I don’t have the strength to deal with it. I don’t even want to. At the moment I wish I was dead. Or at least that I could turn back the clock.
Tick, tock… tick, tock…
Inspired by The Daily Post: Protest