It’s Saturday and shortly I am heading out with Dearest Hubby to a family working bee chopping down trees but I really needed to blog.
Thursday was an horrendous day. Actually that’s not accurate, I had an horrendous 2 hours on Thursday that had quite an emotional impact on me that lasted the rest of the day. I won’t go into all the details but short story is – much loved dog just post rehab period of major surgery disappeared. For 2 hours not a sign or sound of her. What worried me the most was I’d left her collar on and where I live it’s potentially dangerous. Land, trees, bush, rabbit holes and getting collar caught. I was seriously beginning to panic, images of her caught and choking to death running through my mind and how it was all my fault. I hadn’t been keeping a close enough eye on her and I’d left her collar on. At one point I did think I had found her, white and lying very still partially under a log. Shit, I’d found her and she was dead!! Thank God it wasn’t her [white sheet of frost cloth blown in the bush and caught on the log] but that did me in. I burst into tears. Anyway the dog turned up just fine though maybe a little sorry at what she had done. [I hope so anyway.].
While all this traumatic drama was unfolding I told myself I need a drink. Now, here’s the thing I actually didn’t need nor want one. So why that thought, why think that??? What I did do was to abuse food. Didn’t drink but the chocolate didn’t stand a chance. Then I rang Dearest Hubby and said madam has arrived back safe and oh can you bring home a bottle of wine. He laughed and said no, which of course was the right thing.
But really I deserved a drink didn’t I? After all I thought I had killed my dog. Situations with that level of emotional stress deserve to be calmed with a nice wine, right?? He didn’t bring home that wine and I am very thankful for that. In reality I didn’t actually want it but if he’d brought it home I would have opened it, competently and confidently justifying why. Then I would have consumed at least half if not more, would have gotten slightly pickled and most likely given my emotional rawness rather more maudlin. Then the guilt would come, either that evening or in those wee hours when you are totally alone with yourself [despite the other body in the bed with you] and the self recriminations would have come thick and fast. The sense of being weak and being a loser. So Dearest Hubby kept believing in me and didn’t bring that wine home and I didn’t drink. I stayed true to my cause and to myself.
Last night though, Dearest Hubby had a RTD whiskey. I don’t actually like those drinks but I stared at that bottle and him with some degree of resentment. I would have loved a drink yesterday, had a real physical hankering for one. Pissed me off. Again I didn’t and I guess that’s what I should focus on. Those successes. Although I don’t feel very successful.
I am in discussions with myself. I will of course see out Dry July and then I can start drinking again. Why not, I’m okay. I’m not that bad. And I am really convincing myself that I can and should start again. But, always there is that but, I am reminded by myself of why I choose to stop in the first place and how I would feel like a fraud having this blog if I give in and Mrs D [whose book I am currently reading] never gave in. If she can do it based on her drinking story then I should be able to do it to.
I am not giving in.
I am a success and I can achieve what I set out to do.
I am 20 days doing without alcohol.
I am doing it.
love and laughter