I decided to post this in general, rather than long term, because it may be a common thing to all trying to quit or moderate.
Many of you who follow my posts, know that I'm well over a 1 1/2 years now AF. I've been feeling real good as of late, and have enjoyed good feelings of clarity, and well-being, so this was a bit of a wrench in the works.
I had another one of those nightmares last night, and this one was a doozy. Haven't had one like it in over 6 months now, and it took me by surprise.
The first part of this nightmare was unlike anything I had ever experienced before. I won't go into the details of it, but lets just say that Dr. Freud would have had a major field day, and a long paper out of it.
The second part involved me sitting in a bar I used to go to back in 1979 and 1980. A place I still have fond memories of, but used to get absolutely trashed at. This is a bit of a sick confession, but I used to sit at the bar next to where the barmaid would sit the unfinished drinks from clearing tables, befsore the bartender would empty them and clean the glasses. I would spy the unfinished whiskeys and vodkas, and gulp them down while no one was looking (I thought, because I was pretty trashed by this time.) I rarely if ever walked out of that place without staggering or bumping into something, but at the time it seemed just great to me. I would go down there to get ripped on the cheap.
Anyway, in the nightmare, I was doing it AGAIN. There I was, just completely obliterated, and suddenly an intense feeling of overwhelming shame and guilt just crushed my soul. Both parts of the nightmare were just terrible.
The worst part came late in the nightmare, and I said to myself, "Jeez, almost 20 months of sobriety down the drain, and I will have to write of my fall to MWO forum". That was the worst, as it seemed as if all hope was forever lost.
So I woke up immediately, and it took me a full minute to realize that it had all been a nightmare. I went outside on the back deck to let the cold sweat that covered my body evaporate, and to get my senses back. I did not return back to bed for an hour after that, because of the fear of the nightmare returning. Eventually I calmed down, and went back to a far better sleep.
So I figure the best therapy was to write about this nightmare of mine, in the hopes that it will not return again. I mean, I have been doing great lately, and even the anxiety and depression have been abating quite a bit in the past few weeks. Maybe my sub-concious brain is trying to keep me on my toes, eh? Well, it sure did this time.
Good grief.
Neil
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