War Stories

Happy Saturday, Sober Family!
I have been thinking about war stories. I heard the phrase in rehab as it pertains to drug and alcohol addiction. Now I hear it in my 12 step meetings. We say that we don’t want to hear war stories, we prefer to stay in the solution. It’s not about one upping others and proving that we belong by sharing the craziest things we’ve done.

I didn’t understand that. I thought that everyone wanted to hear my stories, that they’d think I’m so crazy and wild and hilarious. It’s a sad day when you think your drunk shenanigans can get you friends. At the end of my drinking the stories were just sad and lonely. Isolating on my couch doesn’t lend itself to chuckles.

I will share a quick one with you, though.:)

When I was in high school my best friend lived in a nice neighborhood and one of her neighbors had a life sized cement pig in their yard. We used to joke about wishing we had that pig. It weighed a few hundred pounds as it was pure cement. One night after who knows how many drinks (at 18 years old) I decided the time had come. We drove over to where that pig was and by that point everyone else had realized that stealing it was a bad idea. Not me. I had a cast on one arm from a drunken fall the week before (I got that cast off right before prom- luckily it was 1991 so long white silk gloves were encouraged) and somehow I wrangled that pig into the back of the station wagon.

Heres the thing. When I start drinking and get an idea in my head I’m going to follow through. With me or not is no skin off my back. I don’t listen to reason, I don’t care about consequences, I do what I want. No matter what.

We ended up taking that pig to Radford University in the fall. At some point it became a scavenger hunt item for one of the fraternities there. I hope it still is. I used to say the legend (of my awesomeness) lives on. I find sobriety to be much more awesome.
keep it simple, y’all.

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