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Oh so Clever-Tricks of the Alcoholic

Posted Sep 26 2008 5:16pm

There he is. Passed out on the couch and oblivious to the world. Drunkenly content in his self-made bubble of misery and confusion. Recognise this scenario? I bet you do. To the outside world the Alcoholic and Depressive seems incapable of even organising a good p**s up in a brewery (excuse the analagy). Wrong again. Inside that tormented mind and soul lies a devious and cunning human, intent on prolonging this agony as long as possible.

The quest to get your next fix, be it another drink or pill is all consuming. I might be suffering from Alcoholism and/or Depression but there is no way that I will idly stand by and have those overwhelming withdrawal symptoms consume me. It is a no-brainer. I will get what I need. Even if I have to lie through my teeth to my most precious and closed loved ones. I need what I need and you guys will just have to suck it up.

And so it goes on until eventually nobody believes a word you say and you have to go underground. In a lighter vein I can have a goog giggle now at some of my actions back in the day.

I had my grog and pills stashed all over the place. Just in case. The object was simple enough. At no time was I in danger of not having my poisons close by. If the Bottle Store or Chemist was closed. no problem. If I ran out of money. no problem.

Just a short distance from my house was a quiet little ring road that ran through a forest. Hardly any traffic and nosey pedestrians to cast a concerned glance my way. I spent a lot of time here mulling over the ills of the modern world. Of course I alwayd had a supply of my favourite items to keep me company. Then a brainwave occured to me. Why not leave a little something for that rainy day. So I chiseled out a space in one of the tree trunks and bingo. I had my own Bottle Store and Chemist.

When all this madness subsided I always thought of some passerby stumbling on my stash and inheriting some warm beer and way out of date pills. Over the years as I have couselled other sufferers I heard the most ridiculous stories in a similar vein. Cars, toilets, garages, garden trees and all manner of quiet stash points. Somewhere to retreat to. Somewhere to get that little something to brighten up your day.

So to all those concerned loved ones. Beware the cunning and devious mind of the addict. You have been warned.






"If you do not know where you are going, every road will get you nowhere."
Henry Kissinger



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