“God help me.”
It’s affectionately known as ‘the alcoholic’s prayer’ in the church basements I like to hang out in on a regular basis. I know it well. Have said it more times than I probably care to remember, or can remember for that matter. Funny thing those blackouts us drunks experience. Sometimes I’m grateful I can’t recall all of my shenanigans.
My old way of saying the alcoholic’s prayer went something like this …
God help me _____
[insert highly dramatic details of whatever so-called predicament I had found myself in]
and I will _____
[insert some bargaining chip I thought the big guy would fall for at the time, usually something to do with not drinking ever again].
This time will be different, I promise.
[insert sound of thunder somewhere in the world reflecting the noise of God’s hearty rolling-on-the-floor-of-heaven laughter]
The way I say it now … Continue reading