Day 1, Version 17

Well. I suppose if I had any doubt whatsoever that alcohol makes me miserable and that I can’t really moderate and I don’t drink like other people, that’s gone out the window. Only back on the sauce for a few weeks, and already the “standard” dose was a magnum of pink wine (I know. I KNOW! I don’t understand it either) and a few beers at night.

That’s 1.5 bottles of wine and a few beers. Each night. That’s excessive, I don’t care who you are. And, of course, it left me in a tattered crying mess, but I was still standing.

Standing, but sad and so close to crawling back down the depression hole. I’m so jealous of the old me from three weeks ago, the happy one who was excited to get up in the morning and had millions of ideas and projects. A few hours of knocking myself out with drinking followed by shitty sleep don’t hold a candle to where I was a few weeks ago.

So, back on the wagon, and happy about it. I think. Resolved, at least. Glad to know that it’s an issue and it’s probably going to always be an issue, and if I decide to drink again, I know exactly what I’m getting into because it doesn’t magically change.

But I can magically change. How about that?

I’m getting a lot of supportive energy from the Death tarot card and some Mars movement. Maybe getting back into astrology is something I should consider.

Well, one thing at a time. I’m not going to drink for at least the next 20 minutes. I know that much.