Dry/Drunk

I am slowly emerging from the foggy neverland of a dry drunk. For you non-alcoholics, a dry drunk is a period wherein an alcoholic steps away from their recovery program and surrenders to the power of the behaviors and character defects they've been working to overcome. Or, as I like to think of it, it's a severe case of cranium en rectus: the unenviable condition of having one's head planted firmly up one's ass.
Neither definition is scientific or official. And I can only speak of my own experience.
Me on a dry drunk: disconnected, unmotivated, disinterested. It's a sick little cycle that feeds on itself, much as drinking does. I know it's wrong, I know it's unhealthy, but oh, it's comfortable hiding in that fuzzy little corner away from pesky old reality.
At first I wallowed. I functioned just fine, but I was forgetful, and I was saying things I didn't necessarily mean just for the sake of saying something.
I knew I should pray for help, so I did. Only God is nobody's fool. God knew I was sorry the way a juvenile delinquent is sorry when she gets caught. My prayer was a rote, monotone "Oh please, God, please pull me out of this, I am sorry, please let me out."
God helps those who helps themselves, and I wasn't interested in helping me at that point.
There were a couple of days when I woke up clearheaded, feeling like my sober self again. There it was, the light at the end of the tunnel. What did I do? Turned and ran deeper into the tunnel.
Today I am mentally exhausted from forcibly tuning out. What I have is a psychic hangover. I'm sick and tired of being sick and tired, which means I'm ready to pick up my recovery program and move forward again.
Going backward is scary. Like driving your car up a mountain and having the brakes slowly lose power. But if I ever hear the siren song of normal that sometimes lures alcoholics back to the bottle ("You can have one. One won't hurt.") I hope I remember this week and know that although I am a lot of things, normal isn't one of them.