Piqued

"We suffer from mental conflicts from which we look for escape by drowning our problems in drink.  We try through drink to push away from the realities of life.  But alcohol does not feed, alcohol does not build, it only borrows from the future and it ultimately destroys.  We try to drown our feelings in order to escape life's realities."

"Our liquor was but a symptom.  So we had to get down to causes and conditions."  Big Book P. 64.

For the longest time I labored through the delusion that I drank to have fun.  While sometimes, especially in the early years, I did indeed have fun, I was really drinking because I was poorly suited to manage my life.  I had no interest in learning anything through pain or fear or embarrassment which are . . . you know . . . the normal ways we learn new lessons.  I just wanted the anxiety to go away.  I vaguely sensed I was being none too smart but I always managed to jam those feelings way down deep where the sun don't shine.

"I vaguely sensed I was not being any too smart, but felt reassured as I was taking the whiskey on a full stomach. The experiment went so well that I ordered another whiskey and poured it into more milk. That didn't seem to bother me so I tried another."

Pique:  A feeling of irritation or resentment, awakened by a social slight or injury; offence, especially taken in an emotional sense with little thought or consideration. (Ed. Note: This word is taken from Old French where it means a prick or a sting or a sharp point.)

"I must never let personal piques interfere with living the way I know God wants me to live."