Tired but Dry

Had folks over for mother’s day. I was grumbly and irritated, though mostly at myself. I am finding that to be the case: when I am mad at myself, I get mad at others easily.

But, even grumbly and tired and feeling put upon, I stayed sober. Mostly happily; I had a few pangs, sure, but, again, the phenomena I notice is that no one else - except for my husband - seems to drink as much as I thought they were. Said another way: my drinking wasn’t as normal as I thought.

Despite that revelation, I felt a little haughty, which will surely lead to no good. Condescending airs aren’t attractive on anyone.

I’m starting to realize, though, that whether I drink again or not, like gambling I won’t ever be able to drink again carefreely. I had a strong hint of the trouble drinking was getting me into emotionally, mentally, physically and financially prior to 32 days sober, but that hint has turned into a knowing and I won’t ever be able to unknow. I can pretend but I can’t unknow.

Especially now that I’ve gotten a taste of all the things I’d pegged as “difficult while sober” and have found that, at worst, they’ve been annoying or slightly awkward, which is still better than embarrassing. What I mean to say is that the only thing I have to fear now is a life that’s stressful but productive, emotional but fulfilling, uncertain but adventurous, quiet but calm.

That doesn’t sound bad. I can tell you honestly I haven’t had more than 60 seconds’ worth of boredom. I may not uncover it immediately but I can figure out something enjoyable to do at just about any opportunity. It’s not fucking-a-rock-star exciting but my time with rock stars wasn’t very good, either.

I guess all of this boils down to: I’m under no illusion the next two months will always be easy, but I think they’ll be far easier than if I was drinking (and gambling. Oh, hi gambling; I kinda forgot about you). And two more months might turn into longer. Or maybe not. I don’t know (even though I do now know so much more) but that’s OK.