Hiding


I’d send myself a text, write a note, even email myself where I’d hid the rest of my booze (a rare occurrence) so I’d know where it was the next day. I’d give myself props because I knew that I’d have forgotten where it was in a blackout. Who was I hiding it from? Everyone who loved me. I wasn’t hiding a thing from anyone though. People know what we’re doing; they get tired of repeating themselves. Each and every time I found those bottles from reading my unintelligible notes I’d find that there was always just a swig left. That was enough to get me going. I’d also be so proud of myself that I’d left even a little. See?! I don’t have a problem! I didn’t finish the whole thing! Oh well yeah – I did have to decipher what I’d written because it looked like my dog had written it – but still! Look at my self control! My self has zero control once I start. Better to leave it alone. I don’t have the energy for figuring out hiding places anymore. I’ll leave that to the kids searching for their Christmas presents. Happy Monday, sober family! Keep it simple today.

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