Here I am.
I’m truly thinking about sobriety for the first time in what most would probably say is humiliatingly too long.
It’s not that I haven’t thought about it before. I’ve definitely entertained the notion before. I have flirted with the idea that maybe I should drink a wee bit less (for the sake of the kids…), but I was able to rationalize those crazy, often guilt-ridden moments away. Before.
But, this time is different. It feels more serious. I mean. Shit. I actually looked up AA meetings and almost got in the car to attend one. That is further than I have ever made it before.
The thing is that before I had lots of reasons why I shouldn’t have to do this. I convinced myself that I am not a person with a drinking problem. I am definitely not an alcoholic, because unlike alcoholics (that I have come to define in my head with my own definitions not embedded in any science at all):
- I only really drink wine (good God, I love wine…). Sometimes a martini (but only dirty ones). Sometimes a bloody Mary (because I love tomato juice, and vodka is really just a bonus…).
- I never drink during the day.
- I rarely have hang-overs.
- And, I have no tolerance (I mean, a real full-blooded alcoholic should be able to drink everyone else under the table, right???).
But, the fact of the matter is I keep coming back to this place. This place is one that is run by shame, guilt, embarrassment, lost memories, missed opportunities and a broken spirit. This place is where I feel like a joke, where my confidence is checked at the door and where I have lost the respect of those I love. This place is where I am always, always apologizing to everyone for behavior I’ve come to define as acceptable and normal. And while I may not be an alcoholic by my definition, it seems that I am one by just about everyone else’s take on the subject matter.
So it is time to change.
I have made it to day 3. And while I might drool over thoughts of a beautiful, big, luscious glass of red… I am bent on making it to day 4.