Recently, I was hired on as a contractor with a local firm. Actually, it's more of a liaison position than actual contracting work. I'm kind of like a mediator of sorts or what they call a go between, if that word still exists. Anyway, I do a good amount of traveling for work. So a few times each month I pack up my belongings into a small suitcase and fly to some strange city where I remain largely anonymous. I live like a squatter in some rat infested hotel on a client's tab I don't know and eat road kill with some guy named Ralph. Aside from all of the work that usually accompanies these trips, they can also be a nice escape. The problem with escape though; you may forget where you came from. You can really pretend to be anyone in a crappy hotel.

A few days into the last trip, I found myself feeling inexplicably anxious. Sobriety is a lot of thoughts and feelings that sometimes go unnoticed. Seeking a warm break from all my worries, I started circling around the idea of a drink -even after 14+ years sober. Double vodka with a lime twist or even bourbon on the rocks isn't of itself alcoholic, I figured. A half a bottle of wine is probably safe as well, or so I thought. Seriously, though: I tried to use every excuse in the book, even the old standby 'you're only an alcoholic if you drink like one'. In an alternate world, this could've worked out fine. However, there is no alternative other than a good meeting. So I went online and found a couple of meetings that fit my schedule. Yes, the beast kept growling after every share, but I stuck to the lines like white on rice.

On the third day, one of our clients thought it would be a good idea to buys drinks for the entire crew. Nice gesture indeed, even for a tight wad like him, but not so much for me. My colleagues made a frequent show of ordering iced teas at dinner as a gesture of solidarity. I smirked away the irony and excused myself early to quell that uneasy feeling by attending another meeting. And by the end of the week, those impulses started to become irrelevant.

You would think; that after numerous years of continuous sobriety the prospect of a drink would be the farthest thing from my mind. Maybe it should, or maybe this is just the way it's supposed to be. There's something so compelling to me about sobriety, yet time and again I find myself knee deep in the muck of self loathing. I debated posting anything at all, especially if it stirred up some negative animosity.  The chorus of 'you're not serious about sobriety anymore' made my heart cringe. But, sitting here scratching my head with over 14 years of active sobriety, it seemed almost apropos not to mention my recent admission even after all these years sober. There might be some value in acknowledging the truth even if the truth sometimes hurts. Honestly, it's a forte that most alcoholics tend to forget, but no this one. I'm so grateful for these rooms and the people who make sobriety what it is, including everyone here on M.I.P. It's a journey worth taking. Onward