Insidious (Patiently Waiting for a Chance to Ensnare)

That’s the definition I remember from when I looked it up a long time ago.  Alcoholism, we are told, is an insidious disease.  The definition is

1. intended to entrap or beguile: an insidious plan.
2. stealthily treacherous or deceitful: an insidious enemy.
3. operating or proceeding in an inconspicuous or seemingly harmless way but actually with grave effect: an insidious disease.

Just the sound of the word is right.  It sneaks in, in a bad way.  It sneaks and traps and kills.  It lies and it tempts.  It seems harmless, but it’s not.

For me, specifically, it hasn’t gone that way yet.  When I drank after a period of sobriety, I was pretty sure I was on the down slide.  Really it was drink, or kill myself.  I knew to a large degree that it would progress and I would get worse.

But I have heard it said again and again and again, over and over, by the people lucky enough to make it back.  The thought that they can drink again after a period of sobriety gets them, and it doesn’t work, and they come back.  I think the lucky ones come back.

Again, the miracle for me and for other lucky people is that I don’t want to drink again, even safely.  I don’t want to leave AA, even safely.


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