Old Habits Die Hard

9 days until surgery. Is it really only 9 days? How could everything have gone by so fast? 9 days. Shit.

I went to a pig roast tonight at our neighbors. Great food, great company and TONS of booze.

I used to have quite the drinking problem. I started drinking heavily when I was 15. I went into the Army at 19, thinking the drinking would get better. Fuck, was I ever wrong.

I got to the point where I was drinking a 5th of whiskey a night and it wasn't even getting me trashed. It made me numb, but not trashed. I finally put myself in AA at the age of 21. I sobered up for about 4 months and then I fell right off the wagon into a swimming pool full of whiskey.

I fell off hard and I stayed off that wagon until the age of 27.

I was one of those sad drinkers that LOVED to sit home by myself with my bottle. I hated it when anyone disturbed me in these moments. Hell, what right does anyone have to interrupt a several year pity party over nothing?

Stupid sober people that don't understand drinking alone!!!!!!!

Do you know what finally sobered me up?

Waiting tables in a bar. It's true. I swear to God!

I started waiting tables in a local bar to earn extra money. I continued to drink for about 6 months and then I woke up. Actually, several local barflies woke me up.

You know who I'm talking about. The nasty old lady sitting at the end of the bar. The one that's been rode hard and hung out wet WAY to many times. The fat old man at the other end of the bar. The one that every time his drunk ass stood up, his pants would fall down. The young woman that would come in and end up fucking 3 guys in the back of a truck in the parking lot.

I finally realized that the path I was on was leading me somewhere that I didn't want to go. I was going to be the old lady at the end of the bar. I was going to be the pathetic drunk that would do stupid shit just for a free drink.

Yep, that was going to be me. That was my path and I put myself on it.

I realized that drinking didn't solve a damn thing for me. Besides that, I saved a hell of a lot of money by not drinking.

Don't get me wrong, I do still drink. If I want a beer, I have a beer. If I want a captain and coke, I have one. I do not however touch whiskey. I also learned that I can have just a drink or two and have a blast. I don't have to be trashed and make an ass out of myself. Every once in a while I will go out and tie one on. Once or twice a year, at best. I won't let the alcohol control my life anymore.

Since I found out in May about the possibility of cancer, It has been hard. I have not even so much as touched a glass of wine or anything in 2 months. I'm too afraid that in a moment of weakness that I will allow the booze to take back over. I'm afraid that if I drink, I will turn into a disgusting, crying drunk mess.

Until tonight.

Tonight, I broke down after 4 hours at the picnic. I broke down and had that first drink.

Big stupid dumb ass mistake.

I ended up having one hell of a stiff one. Then I ended up fighting the old inner demon to not have more and more and more and more.

I ended up leaving.

I actually had to leave. I got up and left a party that I was having fun at and had to come home. I knew that if I stayed another minute that I was done. Done. Done. Done.

Done as in puking on myself. Done as in pissing my pants. Done as in becoming a sobbing fucking mess that would have been left passed out on the ground in someones back yard.

Pathetic, huh?

It drives me crazy that no matter how much control you think you have over something, YOU DON'T!!!

Old habits and old demons die hard.