Nutty? Musty? Fruity? How I like mine...

I dreamt about beer lastnight. I pretty much think that is the way to go. I mean if you're gonna dream it might as well be about your true love, right? So anyway, I dreamt about beer. So I'm walking to my weight training class today and I'm walking through the arch to the main gym and suddenly, without warning, I am engulfed throughout my senses by beer. I could smell the musty rich aroma and I could taste the liquid that somehow leaves my mouth dry and I could hear the sound of someone popping the can open and seriously I just stopped walking and soaked up the glorious experience.

I coulda sworn I died and went to heaven, it was that good. No joke. Somehow the experience carried me all the way through classes and I only started getting remotely depressed when I realized I have to go to work tonight, for one flipping hour. Who schedules people for one hour?

So now I am left with this glorious inticement to go find me some beer. I really am no classy drunk. I like the stuff the construction workers in town drink and I like the stuff my old warehouse buddies still down late at night and early in the morning. I like me some Budweiser. Although in recent times I have become a great proponent for Smirnoff. This stuff is a classier beer but not so frivilous that you feel like Champagne has been downed.

The first time I tried Bourbon. Ahhh. There's something very glassy tasting about the stuff. It's almost sharp, like tasting sharp cheddar after years of eating the original stuff. It leaves you with the desire to sit in front of a blazing fire, completely comvered in a blanket and snuggle in close to someone and quietly sip the stuff. It gives you a richer, more full drunk state.

I find myself in teh deepest trouble with my bud but champagne has left me in quite a state many time too. Somehow the fruitiness of the drink and sugar that it is doused in leaves you not realizing just how many glasses you have drunk. I have never been much of a "no" person and realy why keep track of anything? If something is worth keeping track of it won't be a conscious effort, right? And thus I have often been led down a drunken state where attempting to remember the number of preious drink becomes deja vu of a ACT test where you coulda sworn you knew what a square root was and what a function of pie meant and exactly how to use angles to find other angles but somewhere in the cogs of your mind the information has been locked away and no amount of searching has turned up the key.

I'm dreaming of just one drink.

My name is Sher and I'm an alcoholic.

I watched In Plain Sight tonight and when Mary's mom pleaded guilty to drunken driving it just struck a cord for me. It might be that my own road to a sober life and realizing that I am not able to control my alcohol consumption came up. I remember all too well many nights out late with a certain bf and him letting my drive home drunk. I am still to this day not sure how it was that I never passed out before getting home. I think that I thought it was fine because I only got drunk and then drove real safe and careful home. The thing is though, I have no idea how safe or unsafe I really was. I look back now and can hardly remember all the times I got drunk and drove. I think when I called Lester drunk was the beginning of an eye opening experience. I called her up driving 90 MPH and told her I wanted to come over. She knew I was drunk. I never was good at hiding that. She told me no I couldn't come over after driving drunk and that I needed help getting sober and getting on psych meds. I knew she was right but it made me mad that she spoke to me that way so I flew off the handle at her. I am lucky she is still in my life today. It has been almost two years since then.

Some days I barely make it through alive and sober. I think that sometimes people don't get that I live day to day. I always have. It's just the life I live. I think that had my childhood been different; had my father not beaten my self esteem into non-existence and my brother not sexually abused me, maybe, jsut maybe, things would be different. But then maybe I really am jsut this messed up with or without my past. Guess I'll never know. All I know is that sometimes I wish someone knew me, really knew me because deep down I know that I have never truly let anyone in.

I had a bf at one point who wouldn't mind getting me drunk, in fact I remember many a time waking up somewhere I had no recollection of going to with him. I think that I tried so hard to drown my pain in beer and margaritas that I lost a part of myself in those years. It wasn't until last 4th of July that I realized I had lost it. I went to another city for the weekend to party with an old friend. We went to some guys house that she knew through a guy she worked with. I started drinking and the people there were chill and pretty cool really. I remember having several, maybe 4 Coronas and then having maybe 7 Smirnoffs before I lost all consciousness of how much I was drinking. My friend and a guy were smoking pot. Bad combo. I knew I wasn't ok but I didn't care. Atleast in that moment I lacked the consciousness to know if I cared.

The last thing I remember is waking up the next day sometime in the afternoon on a couch back at my friend's place. She said she thought I was dead at one point. I think I musta been close from the things she said. I am frankly surprised she got me home in one piece. I had drove to the party in the first palce and was drunk driving there so the fact she knew how to get home was a miracle. I think that I finally came to terms with my state that time around. I had attended AA meetings before but never real consistently. I pull out my book every now and again when things get hard though. I think that not drinking is one of the champion things in my life right now. For me, it's really hard to go day to day without drowning myself. I struggle. Watching In Plain Sight tonight brought all that up for me. Sometimes I wonder how I even got sober to begin with after that weekend last July.