I woke up when the alarm clattered into my reverie at 6am this morning. As I got out of bed and dragged on some pjs and then shuffled half blind into the bathroom before staggering to the kitchen to get a pot of tea made I was disturbed. As I slowly awoke with the milk from the corn flakes dripping through my beard off the chin (I don’t paint a rosy picture of myself first thing in the morning do I?) like a bad memory of a drinking night years ago slowly a few bits of a drinking dream last night came back to me letting me know why I felt a bit off kilter.
An odd one and a new one. I was somewhere, ostensibly a workplace I thought, where I was sat at a lunch table with someone I don’t recall or know and an old colleague well I thought it was an old colleague at first. In the dream I’m necking beer from something like a Corona bottle – odd again I never really drank beers like that, too pretentious for a working class salt of the earth type like moi. I’m on at least my third when my colleague leaves the table. Although by now he is my sponsor and then I go through several rooms where women with young children seemed to be squatting and I can’t find him. My last thought was “Well I have the car keys he’ll come back”.
That’s it – nothing that special but drinking dreams still always leave me disturbed. I doubt they’ll ever stop but I simply have to share about them and move on from it. All they really tell me is that I’m an alcoholic, will always be, need to always remain vigilant and need to keep walking the best path I can find to remain sober.