Sunday’s by Peter Marinelli

Thoughts by Peter Marinelli

I remember Sunday mornings when I was coming to with the shakes and or horrible hangover –if I was home in my dungeon I called an apartment. The hellish torture of what do I do now. Towards the end of my drinking I was on the streets and didn’t go to a home, just roamed the streets in panic.

I never had money and couldn’t find a place to get money. Most normal folks were home with their families having family time. Stores were closed including the liquor stores. I had no money for drugs, my body was aching in horrible withdrawal, panic and desperation was the theme of the day on Sundays. I’d sneak onto the trains in Brooklyn and head for the lower east side of NYC and hope that somehow some way I can hustle up money to get something in me to stop the physical pain (shakes, withdrawal) and the emotional torment. No matter how much I drank the emotional pain never ceased to diminish.

Self-hate and impending doom day after day after day, but it seemed on Sunday it was the worst. Not only because of what I described, but perhaps because of my upbringing in a Catholic family, where Sunday was a day of rest, family and reflection. I would think of this while on a drunk and it never made me feel good, but moved me closer to wanting to die.

I couldn’t turn to my family any longer out of shame and embarrassment. My alcoholic mind never allowed me to see that my family would have tried to rescue me any time, any place, if I would just submit to getting help. My illness had other plans however, and it was to never submit or surrender as its job was to keep me drunk until death by its hand.

Today, sober for quite some time, (thank God) I love my Sundays. No more torment, no more pain. I’m allowed to walk with dignity, head up and shoulders squared as my dad would always tell me to, when I was a young boy growing up.

It’s a time of rest, reflection, and gratitude for all the gifts my loving God, my fellowship, and sobriety has brought to me by removing all that was in my way – self.

I can go anywhere and do anything, as today I am free. To quote a great man who once said. “Free at last, free at last. Thank God almighty I am free at last”.

Sobriety! If this is as good as it ever gets, I have been over paid.

How great is God!!


Chop wood, carry water

Peter Marinelli

Contact Us Today

We are available 24/7 to answer your questions and concerns. Fill out the form below to begin your journey towards recovery today!
  • This field is for validation purposes and should be left unchanged.

Leave a Reply

Your email address will not be published.

You may use these HTML tags and attributes:

<a href="" title=""> <abbr title=""> <acronym title=""> <b> <blockquote cite=""> <cite> <code> <del datetime=""> <em> <i> <q cite=""> <s> <strike> <strong>