One Year of Sobriety

7 Feb

jungle trees

I’m five days early on this, but fuck it:

My name is Delicious Tacos, and I’m an alcoholic. My sobriety date is February 12th, 2014. I have a sponsor who has a sponsor. Welcome to the newcomers and congratulations to the chip takers.

Our stories disclose in a general way what we used to be like, what happened, and what we are like now.

What I Used to Be Like

I was like this. And this, this, this, this, this, this, this, this, this, this, this, this, this, this, this, thisthis, this, this, thisthis, this, this and this.

But- the bad shit wasn’t so bad. The boring shit killed me. Come home from work every day miserable. Stop at the liquor store. Buy a pint of brandy. Take it down in three pulls. Wait for a buzz that lasted 20 minutes then sit alone and look at stupid shit on reddit. If I had more than a pint I’d drink that too. If I didn’t sometimes I’d go to a bar and drink beer and smoke cigarettes and try to fuck women. Most women didn’t want to fuck me. When they did the liquor made my dick soft.

If I didn’t drink I’d have this fear in the middle of my chest that I was gonna be alone forever. I’d sit there imagining people I loved falling out of moving cars.

What Happened

One day I couldn’t take it. I called my ex who’s in AA. Asked where I could find a meeting. She found a guy who was going to one that night and I went too. Then another and another and another, every day. Listened to people talk. Most of them said stupid shit but one or two said something that was like they had a microphone inside my mind. Every day. I got a sponsor. They say get one who has what you want. Well this guy is a broke lonely weirdo, which I don’t exactly have to struggle for. But he fights hard to be a better human being. That’s what I want.

What I Am Like Now

I was an atheist. Now I pray. Every day. Some days every hour. Is God real? I don’t know. He’s real in the jungle. He’s real in the birds. You ask God what to do and he tells you: don’t be an asshole. Maybe you don’t need to hear this ten times a day. I do.

I work the 12 steps. I have a big notebook where I spend a little bit of most days writing. Bad shit I did or bad shit someone did to me and what was my part in it. I call other alcoholics and let them know I’m OK and they’re not alone. When I do all this shit I feel good. When I don’t I feel bad, and want to drink.

What else am I like now. Well– unemployed. Running out of money. Spent two weeks in the Philippines and ten days of that was fucking whores upon whores upon whores. Two of them I hit raw and I can’t bring myself to get tested. I just hung up on a collections call from Time Warner Cable. There’s a collections notice from Quest Diagnostics for fifteen dollars sitting on my kitchen table, like ten of them actually. If I’d paid the fifteen dollars any time in the last six months it wouldn’t have harmed my credit but now it will. I couldn’t bring myself to think about another bill. A piece fell off my car and I just left it on the ground. The head gasket is leaking and I drove without oil until the temp gauge started flailing around wildly; at that point I stopped and put oil in. I will just keep doing this until the engine seizes up. I will not get the leaks repaired. What are you gonna do about a blown head gasket anyway. Last night I had sex with a 20 year old camwhore on a first date. I hit it raw and came in her. Even though I might have STD’s from Filipino whores. Her age is not relevant but I just told you to brag, is what I’m like now.

My cat has a patch of hair missing from his back leg and I don’t take him to the vet. Every single conversation I have I am thinking: when will this be over. My eyes hurt. It is cancer. Because I refuse to wear eye protection in the tanning bed. I don’t want the weird white eyelids that newscasters have. I will tan again this week and continue to not put the little plastic thing over my eyes. I have not written a short story in seven months. I have not worked on my book in seven months.

But I didn’t take a drink. This weekend I went to the bird sanctuary with my parents. We saw an osprey. I am a better brother, son, worker and friend. I search diligently for jobs and focus on the action, not the results. Meaning I send my resume places and then don’t spend ten hours agonizing about how they won’t hire me. Or if they do it’ll suck. Or did I accidentally write NIGGER JEW VAGINA AIDS instead of a cover letter. I owe Time Warner and Quest but I made payment plans with Bank of America, the hospital, the gas, the electric, the library… spent 16 hours getting the billing error from my health insurance fixed. I paid my taxes including reporting 1099 work that I know my employer didn’t tell the IRS about– what am I like now: square as fuck.

I will make amends to the Philippine hookers I exploited. I know how much time I have left not to work because I keep a strict budget. I lift weights six times a week and prepare healthy foods such as Brussels sprouts. Gave the cat flea medicine which will fix his leg. Didn’t flip out on my friend for leaving snotty tissues all over my house. Didn’t lie to the camgirl to get in her panties. Broke it off cleanly with the girl I asked out in the park when it turned out she was a church mouse who hadn’t fucked in 6 years. Lot of black chicks are like that. I ran into a woman I know. She was with her 12 year old daughter. I did not stare into her little yoga pants cameltoe and have an extended daydream about picking the panty lint from her half bald cunt.

There’s a guy I drive home from meetings a couple times a week. Part of the reason he doesn’t huff Dust Off and crack his skull on the sidewalk anymore is me. There’s a guy who goes to my Monday meeting– I knew him ten years ago. Used to trade him coke for methadone and he’d do shit like crash his truck on speed. Call me telling me Ronald Reagan was controlling his mind. Instead of that shit he’s now a father to his kid and part of the reason for that is me. The reason I don’t smoke black tar and drink cheap brandy and hit women and fall over in the oil mud where my neighbor parks his 1994 Dodge Ram is them.

I used to say I’d never own a gun. Because some drunk night I’d use it to kill myself. Now I don’t want to die.

When my buddy wouldn’t leave the whores in Angeles I took off and went south alone. I was afraid. I swam with sea turtles. I was afraid diving off the boat. I was afraid to drive a motorbike. Almost ate shit going of cliff in the jungle. Took the bike to a waterfall the locals told me to avoid because the hike up the river in the rain might kill me. I work out for vanity but on the boulders in the fast water I understood what my body was for. I talked to God in a coconut patch. His voice was the cicadas. His breathing was the ocean. Got out of my head and talked to people. Call center workers, sex workers, beggars, cops, child prostitutes, sex tourists, expats, people who live in half finished cinder block huts with a tarp for a roof and they’re happier than you; globetrotting young college kids with every privilege in the world. I wouldn’t have done that if I still drank. I’d have woke up hung over and thought about doing it and got drunk.

If I feel like a worthless piece of shit, the way to make it stop is to help someone else. Pick up the phone and call another alcoholic and make him feel not alone. It is easy to do this. There’s a structure to it. It becomes a habit to help someone. When I’m about to be an asshole, I pause and reflect. Suddenly I’m not a worthless piece of shit anymore. I am an instrument of God here to be of service to my fellows.

Anyway. If you want to quit drinking, go to Alcoholics Anonymous. If you want to talk to somebody about it, email me. I’ll tell you what to expect. Help you find a meeting. There’s some hot pussy but the ratio sucks.

19 Responses to “One Year of Sobriety”

  1. Claude Martel February 7, 2015 at 8:34 pm #

    Powerful shit as always. You should write a book. I wouldn’t say your writing is better per se than when you were drinking, but it’s more coherent and carries a stronger message.

    I don’t know if you’ve seen House of Cards, but one of the characters, Doug Stamper, is a recovering alcoholic. He has a quote, one of the show’s best, that goes like this:

    “But the most important count I do has nothing to do with work. It’s the number of days since April 4, 1999. As of this morning, that’s 5,185. The bigger that number gets, the more it frightens me, because I know all it takes is one drink to go back to zero. Most people see fear as a weakness. It can be. Sometimes for my job, I have to put fear in other people. I know that’s not right. But if I’m honest, like the fourth step asks us to be, I have to be ruthless, because failure is not an option. The same goes for my sobriety. I have to be ruthless with myself. I have to use my fear. It makes me stronger. Like everyone in this room, I can’t control who I am. But I can control the zero. Fuck the zero.”

    Keep at it.

  2. Mr. X February 7, 2015 at 8:44 pm #

    WTF?? You go to a tanning salon?!??


  3. hamstertamer February 7, 2015 at 9:03 pm #

    Good job man. Keep it up.

  4. Atlanta Man February 8, 2015 at 2:36 am #

    Keep writing. I may not be working the steps, but your updates keep me going. DT my life sucks, I am pushing 40 on my third career, and my personal life is in shambles. I have the most important test in my life on the 24th of this month and I don’t know if I got what it takes to pass. I am fatter than I have ever been and I am fucking scared of what happens if I fuck this up, this career Hail Mary that could make me successful. I don’t want to be the black guy that fails, that proves all the HBD assholes right. I am scared. Then I go to viva la manosphere and I see an update, the title alone lets me know it’s your site I click it and for ten minutes I get to laugh. That shit helps man, it helps a lot, you gotta keep writing! Help a brother out, keep posting. Keep posting or the cat gets it!!!

    Seriously, keep posting…

    • Breadcrumb February 8, 2015 at 2:06 pm #

      Atlanta Man, you’re one of the most interesting commenters around this part of the internet. Not a lot of guys who read DT, RoK, etc. are man enough to admit any amount of vulnerability. You should start a blog, I’d read it.

      I hope you score so high on that test, they apologize for even making you take it.

  5. whatever February 8, 2015 at 3:36 am #

    Congrats, DT, on both the sobriety and the new blog post. Keep on.

  6. Martell February 8, 2015 at 11:36 am #

    I check your site daily to see if you post new stuff to read. Daily. It’s really good and inspiring because it shows me that everyone deals with their own shit and there is a message to keep going. I too would get drunk once in a while and make an ass of myself, do drugs, and Fuck some girl behind a dumpster outside of a club. I went to AA, its ok. There’s some really nice people and since I’m in Chicago , its a big group and a lot of support. I lost my voice and the doctor told me it might be cancer so I had to have this 8 hour procedure to get this removed. It came back benign. I never prayed to God because I was embarrassed. Oh you want to pray now because you need help but don’t pray when you don’t need anything? Like a fair weather friend. My sponsor was a retard. Couldn’t stand him, thought he was some hot shit or whatever, I guess I wanted o have a friend and not some guy who just told me to go to meetings. He had some mediocre bitch he was living with who he met at AA. I saw her look at me when I came over to his house and knew I could Fuck her if I wanted to. I guess I am human and shit pisses me off. I haven’t been back yet since its only been 3 weeks post surgery and my face looks like it’s been run over my a tractor. I may go back, but I don’t know if it’s because I want to completely quit drinking or because I just want to be around people. When I have one of my binges I would just go from bar to bar by myself and drink just to be around people. I’d spend all of my money on alcohol and cab rides, then have no money for food. I still remember the first time I had to go a church basement where a food pantry was located. I was the only white guy there. I felt like everyone was looking at me. I never drank daily but once in a while when I do drink I’d have these all night binges and wake up in some random house. Who knows what I did. I’m afraid to quit alcohol because I feel like dates would be lame. I perfected my skill over the years. Meet a girl, take her to a cool bar she never heard about, have a few drinks, we both loosen up and I escalate very quickly and usually end with a first night lay. BUT. It doesn’t do shit for actually having a relationship and I’d get down on myself that all of my friends moved one and had kids, bought a house, and got married. And I over here idle. Never moved on. Maybe this year will be different. Keep writing. Thanks for the inspiration.

    • Atlanta Man February 9, 2015 at 9:40 am #

      Something about this site makes me open up too, DT makes the nerves and emotions raw.

  7. Randy February 8, 2015 at 12:16 pm #

    Filipinas are the best. I feel like they were specifically created for us goofy white guys. One at work (Canadian born) always acts super playful with me. Early 30’s, but with those aging genetics who gives a fuck? She still looks like jailbait. We’ll probably be clubbing next weekend as a group. Grinding against that tight little mocha ass to Maroon 5’s Animals.

  8. Pete February 9, 2015 at 9:47 pm #

    I’ve never met you so I know it won’t mean anything to you but I feel proud of you after reading this. Keep fighting.

    But dont have unprotected sex with hookers, dumbfuck.

  9. BB753 February 11, 2015 at 8:04 am #

    Some people need to star away from alcohol, due to genetics. It doesn’t do anything for me. Clearly, you needed to stop drinking and I’m glad you did. My drug was tobacco. I couldn’t have enough smokes, so I had to give it up. That was 10 years ago, and thanks to my decision and will- power, because that’s what it comes down to in order to kick a habit, I still have functioning lungs.
    DT, finding Jesus is all fine and dandy, but go see a psychiatrist now that you got rid of booze. Depression lurks somewhere inside you, and it drove you to drink. Now you’re ready to fight your inner demons sober and conquer them, hopefully.

  10. Thumotic February 11, 2015 at 9:56 am #

    Congratulations man. There are a lot of people out here pulling for you. You’re one of the most interesting writers around today. You owe it to yourself, and any potential higher power, to stay healthy and keep writing.

  11. pffffffftttsssssssiimmbllllllddddddnnnnnnnnn February 12, 2015 at 10:18 pm #

    This is better. It seems like you are well on your way to achieving serenity. A lot further along than I was at one year. The first year for me was HELL. I white-knuckled my way through the first year wholly unconcerned with self-improvement, spirituality, or anything else – it was all I could do just to keep from relapsing. That’s why when you wrote that post about guest speaking at 90 days I was like, you’ve got to be fucking kidding me. At 90 days I was smoking two packs of cigarettes a day, and dreaming about shooting heroin every night. It gets better, though, doesn’t it?

    Congratulations. I’d like to think I played a significant role in convincing you to go to a meeting.

  12. jeff February 14, 2015 at 8:14 pm #

    I’ve read everything on this site, and that was the first time I’ve seen hope. I was grinning by the end like an idiot.
    Keep fighting the good fight.

  13. Small February 17, 2015 at 6:39 pm #

    hey DT:
    Your followers are mostly psychopaths and you’re contemptuous of most of the women who do give you a chance. It doesn’t feel good to have a crush on you. I resent you, because you’re begging for something that I have in abundance and because I’d have my hands slapped if I tried to give you anything at all. And I think you think you’re like Sleeping Beauty in your pestilential apartment, a line of hopeful hipster girls going in and out thinking that they might be able to save you. Why throw myself on that fire. Some men sleep with thousands of women because they *love* women, but I don’t think you’re one of them. You’re like a hole women throw themselves into, or stare into, or avoid fearfully.

    But you write things like this and I wish so much that I could reach out to you, because I think I understand. A little. Enough for a weekend. I can’t be sober most of the time either. Sometimes I think we’re prisoners here, sentenced into these bodies.

    Anyway, congratulations and good luck with it. If I’m ever in LA I’ll look you up. If you’re ever in Portland/Seattle, I hope you’ll do the same. I look <25 and I have big tits. So there's that.

    • Anonymous February 20, 2015 at 9:09 pm #

      Been reading for years. Unbelievably, surprisingly, moved. Write a fucking book. It’s easy. Use this post as your outline. Compile your blog writings. I’m so proud that I almost feel is all just a joke.

  14. Anonymous February 22, 2015 at 10:40 pm #

    I love you. I love you. I love you so much!

  15. James October 10, 2015 at 8:09 pm #

    Thank You. I have been sober since Febuary 14th 2014. Valentine’s Day. Two days after you.
    Please never stop writing, you have a gift Bruh.. Fucking honesty Man, what a trip huh?
    I look forward to reading your shit every day, and sometimes I’ll even write some shit myself. Thank you again.
    Stay Gold.
    James P, Recovered Alcoholic.


  1. One Year of Sobriety | - February 7, 2015

    […] One Year of Sobriety […]

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