I Mean, Really?

What is wrong with me? I’d like to think it’s something as simple as hormones or stress or loneliness.

But what if I’m an alcoholic? What then? It runs in my blood. As does depression (which I have).

I just can’t let go of the fact that I was REALLY HAPPY not drinking. I know I was. So, why am I so reluctant to go back to that healthy happy space?

Because while I was happy, I wasn’t happy in my life.

Le boom.

I questioned a lot of my choices. Like: my husband. My home. My dog. My job (derp). My not singing. My … everything.

That was uncomfortable.

Questioning myself and KNOWING that I’m making a bad decision by drinking, well, far easier.

Shit. If I’ve learned anything, though, it’s that knowledge doesn’t equal action.

Shit, and shit again.