HOLY FUCK! A verrry traumatic drinking dream, out of nowhere!!! I don’t really think about drinking or sobriety much these days. It’s just part of my fabric that I don’t drink now.
I don’t question it. Perhaps I need to take stock of my self care rituals etc. because after that dream, I found myself falling into reveries of pouring wine into a glass (I didn’t want to, but the thought existed for me again).
A reminder not to be complacent: I’m still just one wrong choice away from being totally fucked. But ….. as long as I keep making the RIGHT choice, my life is full of opportunity and ever-expanding possibilities. I’d forgotten that sometimes alcohol seems like the answer.
It never is.
It is the OPPOSITE of expansion, the opposite of being open to the beautiful possibilities of this life. Sometimes it looks easier! But it’s living death. Death is easier and less uncertain than life, it’s true.
But while we’re alive, let’s LIVE!
I’ll be in the corner, rocking, muttering to myself, “it was only a dream, it was only a dream!”.