...and a drink ain't one. It's been that many days since I had a sip of alcohol. I feel boatloads healthier but also, like the guy at the asylum who's started skipping his medication.
I've always been so critical of meds (as "a short-cut to dealing with one's real problems"). Turns out I've been using my own cheaper, less effective form since age 18. And that I maybe can't handle my real problems.
Since I quit drinking I've craved much more red meat (and have gone with that). I've craved cigarettes (have not). I've craved pot (too much effort to find down here, and the synapses need no further loosening). I've drunk way too much coffee, which in the right doses makes me crazier. Green tea has helped, but you can over do that too; my balls turned green. My distracted craving for new computer information has been more intense than ever. Music, love, writing, and friendship help. Exercise has helped too, but it's been hard to get into a rhythm with it.
The goal for the second hundred days of the new Freeman administration is to find better medicine -- something sustainable that is less about escape and shielding from all I fear, and more about constructive engagement. Actually fighting the monsters under the bed, etc.
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