Excerpt from ‘Licking Honey Off a Razor Blade’ by Valerie Grimes, CHt

A book on alcohol dependency and alcohol addiction and hypnosis

Available on Amazon and Medium

Chapter 23

Final Release?

Marco and I were almost a year into our relationship, and it wasn’t always smooth sailing, and in those break-up times, my mind drifted back to Sal and more alcohol, and he would suddenly call me. It was like he knew when Marc and I were in ‘splitsville’.

I began to have those delusional thoughts again. Salvador was young and exciting, while Marc was ten years older than I and set in his ways.

During one exchange, Sal, who was now living in Florida, reminisced about coming back to Dallas. That hooked me in a little and we started talking more. Our conversations had evolved, more as friend to friend and sometimes brother to sister as he talked more about the work he was doing and how he still wanted to stop drinking.

But as I continued to communicate with him, I found myself buying Jack Daniels again and bragging about it to him (it was our connection). And I would have a shot next to me whenever I did talk to him as I did one evening as he was telling me that I was a huge source of encouragement for him and that I was the only person that understood him and cared for him in spite of the fact that, “I’m an asshole much of the time.”

Then I felt the brakes on my heart squeal to a halt with his next statement was, “But I know an even bigger asshole, that guy at the bar, so I let him have it.”

“What? You got in another bar fight?”

“It really wasn’t much of a fight. I hit him he went down, out cold.”

“And then?” Wondering to myself if he went to jail again.

“Then I went back to drinking my beer.”

“I gotta go, Sal,” and ended the call.

Realizing he was still an illusion I changed my phone ID for him to ‘I’M AN ILLUSION’ to keep me aware.

I felt the need to do some visualization work to move through this state I was in (why was I even talking to his man). I went into my sacred space in my home where I could go to center myself and do meditation, self-hypnosis or visualizations.

I did not want to let him or thoughts of him creep back in. On my altar is a print of an illustration showing a seated figure with a lotus flower outline in the foreground covering the entire image and in the background at each corner an image representing the four earth elements: earth, fire, air and water. As I sat quietly the next morning, I began chanting it took me deep into a trance state.

My intention of this practice was to release the emotional attachment to Salvador. So I thought of all of the painful, hurtful experiences and gathered them up and merged them with his face. Sometimes there were images from events, sometimes it was just a feeling, but I kept gathering them and connecting them with his face. Then I pushed his face away further and further until it disappeared. Then I brought in an image of me with a golden light around my body standing in a bountiful meadow with flowers and butterflies. Then I saw myself dancing around the meadow free and content.

I ended my visualization with this statement: “Sal, I release you to God. I love you and you are always in my heart. I’ll be your friend but not your lover or healer.”

Two days after I released him I received this message, “I rode off a cliff, 60 feet down and think I broke my hip.”

I whispered to myself, ‘So I released you to God and you rode over a cliff, how ironic?’

Later I called to check on him and he said, “Now I can’t go anywhere,” he moaned.

“You weren’t going anywhere anyway, Sal.” He hung up. I don’t blame him.

Weeks passed, “Haven’t you been to a doctor?”

“No I don’t have insurance.”

I suggested, “You don’t own any property so what can they do if you don’t pay. You should have gone to the emergency room. You have paid your share of taxes when you were making the big bucks, right?”

“Well that is also another one of my problems,” he said changing the subject, “I’m just so tired, I want to die, but I’m afraid I’ll do it wrong and end up in worse shape. Did you know that when I got out of treatment earlier this year, my dad put a gun to my head and said, ‘Why don’t you just let me put an end to your misery now.’ I wish he would have had the balls to do it then!”

I just kept listening, even though my heart was sinking.

Then I blurted out, “Why don’t you ask for my help?”

“Because princess, I’m a drunk. Why would I do that to you? I don’t want you taking care of me; I have my pride.”

He so badly needed someone, but didn’t allow himself to ask for help. He is a fighter and even though he is exhausted, he continues the fight. It is programmed into him.

I whispered, “I love you Sal but I’ve gotta go.” I headed for the half empty fifth.