Perceived Pleasure

    Neither faith nor lack of faith could keep me sober. I needed a reason for hope and continued sobriety gave me that. Slowly at first. Mistakes. Lapses and relapses. Learning and earning sobriety. Unlearning my alcoholic ways, sober, yet under alcohol's subtle spell.

    So much of my perceived pleasure in drinking, smoking and doing other addictive substances was the anxiety preceding picking up and the relief of getting my fix. Give me my drug and my anxiety and stress were reduced. I called this "pleasure".

    This must be pleasure, mustn't it?

    Unknowingly living to satisfy my level of addiction. Is this how and why and what I lived for?

    Fuck you, Alcohol! Fuck you!

from All Drinking Aside (Rough Draft, Day 38)