Thanks, Ron. I often can not see the forest for the trees. I was talking only yesterday to my best friend about her spouse's love for liquor, about her circle of friends & their passions for the bottle, keg & can. About how she remains sober and thus, is always designated driver, is always sent out to buy more liquor when the party runs dry, & still has to deal kindly with the circle's short tempers when her return is deemed not quick enough for them. About how the bottle brings out the worst in all of them, and they all find it jolly good fun to puke, heave, be mean and be surly, cuss and swear and behave in a manner that would embarrass them should they ever see the forest for their trees. I asked her, could she not just tell her spouse she didn't want any more liquor in her life than she has already been stuck with, and her answer was, "Oh, no. That is how they all are, and how they always have been."

I told her, then, that she was right. She could not change them or him, and she finished my sentence before I could, saying, "I can only change myself..." a phrase that I have worn thin over the last few years trying to deal with other people, places & things, similar in nature.

Now, some folks would say that my friends were really not my friends at all, if I were to (& do) say that "I have lost almost all of my friends since I quit drinking." One of the old gang remains true to me, but most of them don't have the time or the patience to deal with me since the glory & the wonder of liquor has lost it's appeal to me. They are still friends, but we no longer share time together as the common bond of drinking to excess, and acting the fool fails to amuse me anymore. So we just do not see each other like we used to, as I have no use for bars or drinking parties. I am happiest at home, with Bubba and our dogs. Watching movies, reading, tread heading with my ipod, watching the sunset, emailing old & new friends & acquaintances, early to bed, and early to rise...being sober.

That I beat my drinking problem without the benefit of rehab or AA, is something to be proud of, my therapist Cecile reminds me. OK, I can be proud of that, but I could not and would not have done it if I didn't have a good reason to be sober. In finding the love of my life, Bubba, I have found the inspiration to let me be me.

"I never made you stop drinking," he said, defensively a couple of days ago. We are in our 14th year of being together, and indeed, I drank for the first 9, quite self-righteously, as all drinkers that I have ever known do. But I quit, quite on my own to be worthy of his company, and his affection and his love. I saw myself through what I immagined to be his eyes, and I did not like the woman he spent his days and nights with at all. So I changed her.

One learns how to drink liquids early in life-there is no special talent involved. Yet, when one learns to consume spirits, there appears to be a bright and shining false sense of accomplishment that comes with it. I just do get it anymore. Not at all...

"Look at me. I can chug this. I can do 3 shots of that. I can drink 8 beers, and not feel a thing. Look at me. I am brighter, wittier, more articulate, more loving, sexy, and charismatic just by pouring this vile liquid down my throat. Look at me. I can get dry heaves, puke in your car, drive under the influence, relax, reward myself, etc. all by falling prey to the liquor establishment's lie that life is somehow better when I've have had a few. Look at me, look at me, please, somebody, look at me."

With the benefit of hindsight, that is how I view drinking at this point in my life.

It destroys families, it destroys lives. It ruins relationships and self-respect. One always must pay the piper. There's always has to be the morning after to contend with...and it is never, ever a cheap hobby, any way you look at it.

In my early twenties, I taught myself to drink Scotch, in the hopes that I could one day be my father's favorite drinking buddy. But he always had a favorite drinking buddy-who ever he was drinking with at the time. Until, he found himself drinking at age 80, and falling off his bar stool, cracking his head on the ground resulting in a sub dural hematoma, that eventually lead to his death. You wouldn't think that things could get any worse after that, but, then you would be underestimating the power of alcohol. I hate it. I don't want it in my life any more, ever.

And yet, there it is. In those I love, all around me. Even in my fellow sober friends and family. We have to deal with our friends & family who claim that drinking is their right, their reward, their whatever excuse they feel like using at the time...

But Ron reminds me, no one else is my problem. I cannot change any one but myself. I cannot make some one love me when they only see through a glass darkly, and keep me at more than arm's length, as we no longer are in the same sinking, stinking boat. I cannot see their lives as they see it. I do not feel their pain. I cannot fight their battles nor reward them or console them on the winning or losing of said battles. I can only continue to grieve...for my father, and for every one else that I have lost to drinking in one form or another, and go on with my life, doing the best that I know how to do at the time. I have to concentrate on my blessings, on what I believe that I have learned over the last half century, and be the best person that I know how to be.

It is not an easy thing to do, yet it must be done. I am working constantly on being a better me. Those that I have love and lost must work constantly on improving their own situations. Or not. They cannot help me. I cannot help them. To help someone, you have to change them, and no one can change them, thus help them, but themselves...and they so rarely see that any help or change is needed.

From time to time, I just need to be reminded. Thanks, Ron.