Diary of an Ascending Addict

2 months and 6 days without one drop of alcohol. And I’m writing because, in a very real sense, this is a miracle. Seeing as nothing in my current reality could’ve predicted I’d be able to stay on the wagon that long. The cravings are still there but they come and go. They do not remain in my mind like an insurmountable ache. They come and they go. I started in Ramadan, easy because in Egypt, if you haven’t made your own stock beforehand, no alcohol is readily available during the whole month. An alcohol-free month, what a blessing.

But this time, I stayed on the wagon even after Ramadan, and here I am writing this entry now, today. 2 months and 6 days later. I tell myself maybe I’ll drink again, but not now, not today. One day at a time.

The funny thing is, I haven’t been drinking that much for several years now. Don’t get me wrong I do binge drink, but not regularly compared to what it’s been before.

How is this impacting my life, my power, my energy, my emotions, my abundance, my ascension? I’ll let you know.

Guidance has been coming in loud and clear. I’m being assisted, supported almost carried through this process and it is such a gift, gratitude is overflowing as alignment is occurring. Releasing decades, maybe eons of pain, stuffed ever so deep with bottle upon bottle of liquor. But I don’t have to feel it, I just need to be present and observe. The witness witnessing. It’s my part, my mission right now. Everything else will fall into place. Like magic.

You cannot align while drinking. I’m not talking random drinks or even getting hammered every once in a while. I’m talking real binge drinkers, who can never stop, no matter the amount of damage and havoc it wreaks on their lives. The bottomless pit that no one can fathom unless they’ve experienced it, physically, emotionally and spiritually.

You cannot align because when you drink at that level, you create a parallel world, not a quantum one, an illusionary one, a mirage where nothing takes root, nothing grounds and nothing can grow.

So many brilliant ideas while drunk, which never amounted to anything, because they happened in that parallel world, like a wispy flame that instantly turns into ashes. Nothing to hold on to, nothing to grasp. Just walking in that barren landscape.

I’m not saying it wasn’t fun. Oh I had plenty of fun. Immediate gratification can be lots of fun. Walking my dog, high as a kite, listening to music was loads of fun. I miss that the most.

What I don’t miss is the aftermath. Feeling like a ton of bricks. Density crushing my soul and the feelings of futility, despair and emptiness. The brick wall against which I crashed my aching body, over and over again. The sheer insanity of expecting a different result. Every single time.

And even when insanity was made crystal clear to me, I took the chance. Risky business. Fake exhilaration. Rotten enthusiasm.

Even as I’m writing the craving is there. But it’s early days.

Even as I’m writing, sometimes it gets so hard that it feels like I’m hanging by a thread and that the only thing keeping me going is blind faith.

There but for the Grace of God Go I.

Something I’ve just realized. What is the nature of the wound behind my addictions? I stopped drinking before, the longest time was 4 years. What is it inside me that makes me go back? What is it inside me that makes me endanger my health, my life, my being? Why is it so hard for me to care for myself, when it’s second nature to others?