I had another good day yesterday, and by that, I mean I wasn’t all over the place emotionally and I didn’t feel like I came across to people this way:
At group last night, Katie talked about P.A.W.S. (post acute withdrawal syndrome) and the pink cloud. I read about the pink cloud before I entered rehab, but I didn’t really get it. The more Katie talked about the dangers of the pink cloud, the less I focused on the warning signs and the more I wondered, oh, shit, that’s where I am. I’m going to get over-confident and think everything’s great and then I’ll relapse, but I’m terrified right now and keep thinking I’m going to crash, anyway, so I’ll want to drink when that happens and so on and so forth until we had a break and I told Katie my concerns.
“No, I don’t think you’re in the pink cloud,” she said, shaking her head. “That’s more for people who think their lives are great and they walk around like everything’s perfect.”
I laughed. I certainly don’t think my life is great and I don’t think everything’s perfect. “You just had two normal days,” she went on, “and that’s good. But you went through a shit-storm. We’ve never seen it that intense before.”
Her comment took me aback. I never hid my feelings in group or to her, and I clearly meant it when I said that if felt like some cruel kid was inside me flicking my emotional light switch on and off just for the hell of it. I asked Katie if I should expect to crash and end up back on the floor, and she said, “You’ll have dark moments and bad days, but you’ll recognize the warning signs. And the intensity of each episode will be dialed back a bit each time you go through it.”
I can handle that. I handled detox and the post acute shit-storm without relapsing, so that’s something.
This is day 25. My name’s Robert, and I’m a recovering alcoholic. Let’s see what today brings.