By: Travis Naughton
Hi, my name is Travis and I’m an alcoholic. It has been five years, two months, and two days since my last drink. Thanks to the support of family and friends, healthcare providers, prescription medication, and an earnest desire to set a good example for my children, I have not touched a drop since I downed my final martini on December 31, 2016. There have been very few occasions since the first months of my sobriety when I have felt an urge to drink. Lately, however, as a pandemic and wars and politics and family crises threaten to crush my soul, I must admit that I have been tempted to pick up the bottle again. Tempted, but not attempted. I tend to be an overthinker. I dwell on things far too long—especially negative things—and my internal monologue can be absolutely relentless. Alcohol was the easiest way of getting the voice inside my head to shut the hell up, particularly at bedtime. Eventually, I came to rely on music, meditation, and medication to quiet my inner voice, or as the Buddha would call it, my monkey mind.
See more in this weeks Boone County Journal
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