I was trapped in my own skin. There wasn’t a place more terrifying. It was dark and lonely, even though my home was full of people. They all looked at me with confusion. Just put it down. Just stop my husband would say.
Everything I did revolved around my goods for the day.
My mind would race, if I just stopped how would my life go? How would I do anything I enjoyed sober?
How would I
Listen to music, go on vacation, take care of my kids, have the drive to do anything, be funny, enjoy a bonfire, spend time with my husband, surf the web, stay up all night, go to a concert, watch my husband grill, brush my teeth, take a shower, cook, clean, talk on the phone, text anyone, leave my house?
Would sex still be as good?
How could I just be, without my drugs?
It seems silly now looking back. I’ve done most of these things sober and it’s more enjoyable. I can remember what I’ve said and done. I don’t have to spend countless hours searching for a pill to start my day. I don’t have to think of a new way to talk my husband into drinking with me. And I wake up every morning with no shame.
I used to cry all those questions to my husband. But most of all I’d ask him what if you don’t like me sober? What if I’m boring?
Sometimes I still feel bad he doesn’t have a wife that can drink one beer and hang out. He tells me this is silly.
And for the record, sex is way better. And I’m not boring. I’m a pretty neat person. Where I’ve come from doesn’t hold a candle to where I am today.
I can’t be the only addict that had these crazy fears and thoughts.
Daily Prompt: Candle