Check the bed

It's the frustration.

Why do the simple things get to me?

I know the old line about don't sweat the small things but it's the small things that get to me.

Sometimes it feels like the difference between a rock and a grain of sand.

I stub my toe on the rock.  It's instantaneous pain.

I'm pissed off.

I want to kill it.

But then it's over.

A grain of sand can work it's way under my skin into myflesh.

 Hell my soul.

 Cravings can be the same way.

 They’re not big enough to stumbling over. Sometimes you don't even notice them.

 That's the problem they slowly get under my skin.

I remember being a kid.

I have a big brother and I thank goodness for him but at times he made my life hell and I believe  he enjoyed it far too much.

We had a summer cottage at the beach.

I love the water.

I would spend hours playing by the waters edge. Inevitably I would get a sun burn. My mother would rub Noxzema on my raw shoulders and back.

The relief was instantaneous and gave me hope of a quick recovery.

But my brother had other plans.

He would get a small amount of sand, barely noticeable and put it between the sheets of my bunk bed.

As I lay there at night the sand would slowly work it's way under the noxeczema sticking to my burnt flesh turning the night into a living hell.

Getting sober is similar

Once I got out of rehab I thought I was cured. It was done. Like the noxeczema I felt this sense of relief.

Thing is life is full of sand.

Ever since that summer, whenever I go on vacation near a beach, I check the bed for sand.

Keeping sober is like that.

You always have to check for sand.

It's the small things that you have to keep an eye out for.