I have ended my abusive relationship with alcohol. I still have a beer now and then, or a sip of my home made cloudberry liqueur, but the obsessive feeling of “must have” has stopped. I believe for good. At least it feels like it’s for good, and I have learned to trust myself on that part; the feeling of being done with some kind of self destructive shit, to have regained the control of my life.
It was nothing like the end of my nicotine era, which lasted for 27 years and ended with a “HELL NO!!! NO MORE!!!”, continued in a state of pure joy over the fact that I would actually never smoke again, not to mention everything that follows when you’re done sucking poison and tar into your mouth and lungs all the time.
It was more like a silent observation and gradually growing consciousness of the fact that I no longer feel an urge to consume alcohol. On the contrary, I feel reluctant to drink all those times when I used to yearn for alcohol. An acceptance of the mind and body listening to the heart slowing down the rage of an tormented soul finally ready to let go.
It takes time to rise yourself after a lifetime of destructive attacks continuously from birth. I have come to the knowledge that the most devastating wrongdoing done to me was denying me to experience genuine kindness in my childhood. To refuse me to learn to distinguish between true friendship and a hostile approach, true compassion and heartless exploitation, true love and false prophets. This obvious cruelty in my upbringing allowed evil women and men to steal much more significant pieces of me and my life than they deserved. Than I deserved.
Kindness were to be strange and scary incidents throughout my entire life. Happenings which were only to be subjects of wondering and investigation of the mind from a distance, whilst venomous iniquity was mistaken for goodwill. Luckily only for short periods of time, replaced with longer duration of walking alone. My family has never allowed me to learn who is who of them, except for my grandfather who was effectively banned from any chance to know his granddaughter. I believe this was his greatest sorrow and despair; knowing what I was a victim of, but unable to make a difference.
Nolie Te Bastardes Carborundum! My living nightmare is over. I’ve walked through the shadows in the walley of death, protected solely by a white, flaming spirit, given to me in the moment of my grandfater’s last breath. My heritage, the pneuma of angels, protection of the pleroma, the power and gifts of the so called holy spirit. I am the arch enemy of popes, priests and their hellish army, whatever at the moment it is. I am the first born rising the tempel from the time of it’s fall to stand again; vigorous, fierce and tall. I’m here to strike you with my sword!