Today I mark 90 days alcohol free.
This is a huge deal for me. I haven’t gone this long without a drink since I was 37 years old. Although my alcoholic path is not strewn with DUI’s, rehab, or prison, it has still been a journey of excess. The more I drank, the more I wanted.
I drank every night, all night. I went through 1.5 liters of wine almost every night, and some nights more. That is a shitload of booze.
I have felt guilt for picking fights with my husband, shame for screaming at my children, and self-loathing at 3 am, 5 am and in the morning. I have had mind blowing, body aching hangovers. I have promised on numerous times to myself, and to that elusive higher power, secretly, that I would quit. I knew full well by promising in secret I really wouldn’t have to do it, no one would be the wiser. Since I already disappointed myself on a regular basis, I didn’t feel any worse about pouring that first glass every afternoon. I deserved it. I only felt bad about it when the alcohol wore off and I woke my up at that ungodly time every morning, only to repeat the lying promise.
I have pinned my final decision to stop drinking on an ugly moment with my husband, but I have known for a long time that I needed to do something about my drinking. No alcoholic listens to anyone tell them they drink to much. Yeah, yeah, pour some more wine in my glass and shut up, leave me alone, I have this totally under control.
I am proud of myself, I have made it to 90 days!
I want a marching band, cake, balloons and cheers.
I won’t get that, because no one in my human world understands how hard I have worked for this, and how much work it has been. (Mostly because I keep telling everyone I am FINE.)
So, I am patting myself on the back, and the marching band is going in the background, confetti is falling, I am wearing a tiara and one of Liz Taylor’s gorgeous necklaces. (I should get out of my pajamas, then I could be beautiful and sober.)
Thank you to everyone who has listened, emailed and helped me to get here.
On I go!