Page 11 of Rush

You remember how good it felt, Ari.

The feel of it coursing through your body, taking the pain away. Freeing you—

Stop!

I flash open my eyes, turn, and pour out the water into the sink, setting the glass in it.

I grip the edge of the counter and swallow in a lungful of air.

Breathe, Ari. Slow and deep.

I take a breath in through my nose and let it out through my dry mouth.

Dry from the need to drink.

No.

My grip on the counter increases. My arms start to tremble from the force, but I don’t let go. Because I’m afraid of what will happen if I do.

I don’t have alcohol in the apartment, but I’m within a ten-minute radius of pubs and bars. Five minutes if I run.

And I’m afraid that, if I let go of this counter, I’ll start running.

I squeeze my eyes shut and slowly count to ten.

I don’t need to drink.

I am in control of my life.

Six months, Ari. Six months sober.

Don’t blow it now.

You’ve gotten through the worst.

Detox was the most horrific experience of my life. I don’t ever want to go through it again.

And, if I have even one drink, I’ll be right back where I started.

I can’t go there.

I won’t go there.

I was what is called a high-functioning alcoholic. I used alcohol as a coping mechanism. I would find any reason to drink. I would drink alone at home. Too much, too often. I could drink a couple of bottles of wine at home or go out and party like it was 1999 and wake with no hangover and head into work. Some people might think that was a good thing—being able to drink with no hangover. But it really wasn’t. It meant that I’d built a tolerance over the years. I’d been drinking too much, for too long.

I couldn’t go a day without a drink, and even then, I still didn’t know I had a problem. If someone had asked me seven months ago if I could stop drinking, I would’ve answered yes without hesitation.

It wasn’t until it was too late when I realized I had a problem.

No, it’s not too late.

I made a terrible mistake because of the disease I have.

And that’s what alcoholism is; it’s a disease.

But I’m getting better. Every day, I’m getting stronger and stronger.

It will not defeat me.