Hello, My Alcoholics & Addicts! You're Safe Here!

An Introduction Of A Gay, Newly Sober Alcoholic

Welcome, my fellow drunks and addicts! Whether ye be sober or tweakin', I'm glad you've found your way to my blog!

You see, I have no idea how to do a proper blog, so I'mma wing it. I do hope to provide some humor, inspiration, and perspective, though. But first things first.

My name is Charlie and I am an alcoholic. I have been sober from alcohol since July 8, 2020. I will turn 35 in 5 days (June 10) and I am just now realizing how amazingly captivating life is without the aid of a vodka bottle. I didn't know this because I've spent a little over a decade sailing the boozy sea of addiction, docking briefly at rehabs, detoxes, and psychiatric wards. I have quite literally flung myself from coast to coast in a gay, drunken tizzy, searching for a cure to my insanity.  You name a therapy, I've tried it. A pill to help with alcoholism? I've eaten them all. An administered shot, by a nurse, to dull the effects of alcohol and help one abstain from drinking? Both cheeks, please.

Yet I never strayed too far from my beloved voodkila. I couldn't, I wouldn't, I shan't ever. I'm an artist, I'm epic and poetic, Daddy needs his juice. So that he may feel deeper. And ponder the meanings of life. And relax from the stress of empathy. And transcend the mundane, to soar in a fairy-tale, vodka-bright world.  So that he may pickle his liver. And wreck his car. And fracture his neck. And get an obscene amount of DUIs. And scare the absolute shite out of his family. And lose all of his friends and dignity. Oh, 'twas a glorious adventure!

There was a time, not too long ago, January of 2020, actually, that I thought this was my lot in life. I genuinely believed that I was destined to be a drunk, stumbling from one state to another for hand-me-outs and help until organ failure overtook me. And I wasn't sad, or mad, or confused. I had accepted my fate to follow in the footsteps of my Grandpa.

Then, miraculously, a force from within me burst forth and fought for my life with a vengeance even vodka couldn't match. I suppose the easiest way to phrase this is to say I had an emotional, mental and spiritual renaissance. It was a survival instinct, for my soul was at death's door. Just before the band of my life could snap, my soul broke free of its slippery chains and sought light. It sought freedom and hope and love. It sought everything I had deprived myself of for years. In that moment, I knew to stand down and let bigger forces take over. For once, I handed over the reins of my life to a deeper, stronger energy; I willingly surrendered.

I mean, it sounds sappy and straight out of an AA testimony, but I've learned that's because it's the truth. It is the truth of becoming sober, no matter what your circumstance or substance. There is a moment that some of us are lucky enough to have--a moment where our soul must make a choice. My soul chose to live, to prosper, to find purpose. And I am a better man for it.

But I'm still pissy, judgmental, self-doubting and scared most of the time. I still feel weird some days, like I'm living a charade. I still sometimes wait for the rug to be swept out from underneath me, to find myself at the bottom of a bottle. That's my addiction, though. That's my devilish sidekick. That's me. The picture of duality.

So, come along with me on this journey, yeah? I've been hesitant to post anything up until now for fear of hexing myself. I was afraid if I wrote about it publicly, I would relapse. But that's silly and I shan't channel my energy into such frivolity. I shall channel my energy into you, so that we may grow together in this life. I shall hope for you, because I know your story. It's the same as mine, with just a few details changed. I'm the melodramatic gay boy who couldn't quit drinking and get his shit together. Until he did.

Take a deep breath and smile, even if you don't feel like it. I'm so proud of you, no matter where you're at in your life!

Have fun until next time!