Day 42: I was reading through my Journal / Diary / whatever you call it earlier. It’s not something I write in often but I have scribbled quotes, targets, feelings and poems in there over the years. I found a poem I wrote in June 2018. Clearly after yet another alcohol fuelled incident. A false dawn at the time but reading the poem today – I now believe what I wrote back then. It’s called ‘No drink in my hand’….
‘A beer, a wine, a couple at least. Once I’ve had a taste I drink like a beast.
A whisky, a gin, in the house or the pub. Often at the footy, sometimes in a club.
I love the taste, the feeling I get. But at present I need to be set.
Set for a battle against issues in my head. Time for focus, family and to rest. A rest from the boozing and all of the mess.
I don’t trust oneself with a drink in my hand. My head mixed with drink is something I can’t stand.
Time to get fixed, time to change. No drink in my hand, no doubt it’ll feel strange.’