Today I have been sober for roughly 4 months and 5 days. The other night, I drove up to Honolua Bay and sat at the edge of the cliff--peering out at the vast Ocean; the half-crescent, effulgent moon glistened on the dark body of water as the waves crashed hard against the cliff, creating a cloud of white snow flowing back into the night.
I took out the letter I wrote to my dead father which explained the pain, guilt, and misery I might have caused him through my selfish, careless, odious actions. I was an abominable man, who was befuddled by the many bottles of booze. I gained a morbid sense of humor and an irascible switch, which I'd rather not speak of. Times were rough in the past because my fastidious, binge drinking outweighed all that was important. I was a full blown charlatan, who spoke with great pride and bragged about all of the great qualities I didn't actually possess. A quack, a gauche to society, who looked at reality with weary, clouded eyes trying to make sense of the chaos polluting my brain.
I pulled out a red lighter and lit the corner of the letter that I held in my hand. I held it up to the stars and the sky above and thought about my amazing father, who sacrificed so much to give me a better life than he had. I watched the embers and the ash slid through my finger tips as the letter magically turned into dust before my eyes. At once I felt free, but in turn a certain revulsion towards alcohol came upon me. A dolorous outlook of all the pain and misery I have felt. For that I am grateful. I was finally able to see what was going on.
Thank God I under went some sort of calamity that opened my eyes to my own self-sabotage and demoralization. It's a baffling thought...it really is, but afterwards I was able to place my head above water and start letting go of the resentments that I held onto with all my might--allowing the thoughts to untangle and release the knot that squeezed the forefront of my mind.
I have capitulated to a simple program which I will choose to keep anonymous. I finally realized, to my inner most self, that when I pick up a drink, life becomes unmanageable, and then I start to develop a pugnacious attitude towards life and those around me. However, now that I know I am an indignant person, I must make sure that I am actually fighting for what I truly believe is right, and not what Captain Morgan tries to tell me in the moment.
Anyway, I have started surfing and have paddled my ass off into some 3 to 4 foot waves--6 to 8 foot face is what it means because in Hawaii they do measurement based on the back of the wave. I was given the nickname Moondoggie because I dropped into a 6 foot face the first time I ever caught a wave. It was the most exhilarating experience of my life, but nearly drowned when I didn't realize there was another wave coming right afterwards. I believe the nickname, Moondoggie, suits me well and who knows...it might actually stick.