I’m sober. I’ll be sober forever. There’s no question about that. Trust me.
Sometimes I’m amazed at how swiftly the thought of, “Just one will be okay” can come into my head and take over my thoughts. I mean seriously. One minute I’m sitting around, painting my toenails or playing my eleventy billionth game of Bejeweled and the next minute I’m thinking, “Maybe I CAN drink…in moderation…for a little while.”
What the fuck is THAT?
I mean it’s not like I haven’t TRIED about a trillion ways to do that. Let’s count drinks…no more than two okay? No, let’s say that I have to have a glass of water between each drink (which just makes you pee MORE by the way). Wait, maybe I’ll have a glass an hour…oops…let’s make that every 30 minutes. I KNOW! I’ll only drink on the weekends! Thursday is the gateway to the weekend right? Okay…I’ll only drink on special occasions. Let’s see, I have a hair appointment this weekend…time to break out the wine!
And we all know that’s just the beginning. These little conversations with myself continued until I was back to my old pattern of drinking myself stupid and hating myself for it.
Yes, I was that pathetic.
So why in the name of all that is holy and good would my brain even go to that dark and ugly place? What’s more, why would that dark and ugly place all of a sudden take on the suspicious look of Cinderella’s Castle with all the fairy dust and twinkly lights and Tinker-fucking-Bell flitting all over the place?
Because sports fans…I’m an alcoholic and that’s what we do.
But please do not despair because it’s not as bad as you might think. In fact, it’s funny to me. Not funny in a cynical sad kind of way but laugh out loud funny. Which is what I do when these thoughts come into my head…I laugh out loud. (Which makes people ask me what’s so funny and then, if I don’t know them well, I make up some story about a squirrel and a tree and a dog who all walk into a bar…oh never mind.)
In the beginning I did not laugh out loud. I did not even smile…unless you consider a grimace that concealed clenched teeth a smile. I clenched. I fought. I breathed. I waited. And then it passed and I waited for it to return – which it did. But then it didn’t. And I relaxed.
And then it did and it scared me to death because it was out of nowhere and I wasn’t expecting it and what the hell was I going to do if this was how life was going to be forever! So I blogged. I talked to the hubs. I went to AA for awhile. And I got through it.
And it got easier.
And now it’s funny. I mean really Sherry? You think that you are so special that, after a certain period of time, you (and only you) will be able to pick up a glass of wine and all of a sudden, out of the fucking blue someone call the Vatican because this is a bona fide miracle, you will be able to drink like a normie?
Told you it was funny.
And I laugh…because it helps to keep things in perspective and then I think, what would it change for me if I did drink.
Only everything I love and hold dear.
And then I stop laughing.
Because THAT is not funny.
Have a wonderful, sober weekend everyone…