On Passing Sober Day 3 as a Ghost

“On the third day, he rose again from the dead ….”

― The Apostles Creed

Yesterday was the third day of my new found sobriety and believe me, I have been among the dead.

My life, while drinking, cannot really be called living. I drift through the days, hazy with fatigue, planning my next drink, or drinking it, or sleeping to recover from it. Everything else that involves living — working, interacting with friends and family, making plans — is all done through a thick layer of fog, with the images blurred and passions blunted, so that not even a memory remains. Like having one foot in the grave, I would think. My other foot just barely among the living, I notice only the most pressing of circumstances, and even then, react badly, or inappropriately, or let them go altogether, completely unresolved. Yes, it’s safe to say that I have been among the dead.

Today, however, I am on sober day 4, having floated past day 3 without wandering back to the graveyard. I should mention that I have hundreds of sober day 3’s, but never a sober day 300. This is why I must rise again to the challenge of making the choice to stay among the living, study their ways, and perhaps join the club after a 30-year stellar career in avoiding life altogether; in other words, a 30-year full-time job in drinking, and all that that implies.

I moonlight as a professional drinking quitter. Drinks are thrown out, promises are made, progress begins. But then a full moon catches my eye, and I dream longingly of the warm liquid communion of drink, that feeling of going somewhere dark and cozy, waiting for that first cold drink to do its magic. The neon lights and noisy camaraderie of a restaurant beckon to me like a long lost friend. I never see that it’s the boneyard in disguise.

So — just like water into wine, I return to being a drinker. My poison du jour is the no-longer-trendy Cosmopolitan from my heyday. At my favorite local haunts — those that make a good, strong Cosmo — the bartender or waitress will arrive at the table with a smile and ask, “Should I get your Cosmo started?” Even at lunch. Especially at lunch.

But I am getting distracted here, and I know that if I take as long to post as I do with any other writing assignment, I will quit blogging before I begin. I have to keep these short and sweet, or it’s no longer a blog. It’s more like a theses — something that you are ostensibly working on all the time for years, with no real end date in mind. (I have no personal experience in this area. I am just observing what I see in more dedicated and cerebral friends.)

Then again, my life has been like an endless thesis. But now it’s time to finish the “research” into life led by drink. No more research is necessary, or sustainable. I feel like it’s now or never, and have felt that way for some time. But will this make a difference, ultimately? I hope so.

Maybe this is my miracle.

— S.

31 thoughts on “On Passing Sober Day 3 as a Ghost

    1. Thank you, newnewguy. You are my miracle today. I was getting ready to erase the whole thing but decided that if I received one comment, I would continue. You made my day. (night, actually.)


  1. Hey there you! I’ve been reading back through your blog and you’re an amazing writer. I am writing a book about online communities including the blogging community (shut-up you guys, I can hear you sniggering) I’ve been writing this book for the last year and swearing every two weeks that it will be done in two weeks, that’s why you here all the laughter from the blogosphere. Anyway, I have a variety of posts from a variety of blogs in the book, but I need a blog post from the very beginning and this one is perfect. Write me at karymayhickey@gmail.com if you’re interested in submitting this. And, the book really is going to be done in the next two weeks. (Shuddup yous!)

    Liked by 2 people

    1. I’m glad I didn’t know to do that. It sounds so much better than “Make it strong.” I did that with Irish Coffee. I asked for shots on the side so that I could make sure that I got two whole shots and not just a splash.

      I am hoping to stay away from the boneyard this year. I can’t believe I ever felt that despondent. Thank God I woke up!

      Liked by 1 person

  2. Your comment on another blogger’s post, “You can only be as happy as your unhappiest child”, brought me here today. I’ve only had to read a few of your posts to conclude that you are a talented writer. I am looking forward to sharing your journey.

    Liked by 1 person

  3. I love this – “professional drinking quitter” and the “thick fog” you describe is spot on!
    Ms Miracle…you have come so far! I loved reading this, I may just read all of your blog from the beginning on my hols. x

    Liked by 1 person

  4. This is like a somber yet clear peom that describes what many, including myself are feeling. Like a stormy cold day when the sun is just trying to peek out. Thank you for reposting this.

    Liked by 1 person

    1. Thank you, Mrs. D. I was just reading “Blackout: Remembering the Things I Drank to Forget” last night, and she described herself as feeling like she was already dead. It’s a horrible feeling, but you get so numb that it doesn’t seem like all that big of an emergency, you know?


  5. This is wonderful and I also love your replies to the comments. “We shall not regret the past nor wish to shut the door on it.” You have a big, supportive community! That’s great!


  6. I’m not even sure what it is I want to say on here. I’m thinking so many things, like wondering what it would have been like if I met you before our journeys. Would we have been aware of our destined meeting, or would we have blown it? Just thoughts, as it doesn’t matter. We met when we were supposed to.

    Boy, we have come a long way since we started our blogs…we both started in 2016, you know. I can’t wait to see how this ends:)

    Liked by 1 person

    1. Me either! It’s all good, and everything’s unfolding like it should. HOWEVER, I do need a small fire lit under my butt to keep me from delaying writing projects, etc. I started out with some great discipline in 2019 but going to Florida for a couple of weeks has derailed all my good intentions. I’ll be starting over soon.

      I have yet to set any goals for 2019, so maybe this weekend. I’m hoping to head in your direction at some point, especially once it’s a bit warmer.


    1. Thank you, Mary! Though it was only a little over four years ago, it seems like forever. I can see now I was almost romanticizing the idea of throwing in the towel. In reality, there was nothing romantic about it. 😀

      Thank you again for your lovely comment.



  7. I’ve just found your blog and it’s like you were writing my very own story. This is the gift from God that I’ve been waiting for.


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