We had a weekend of family visiting for my father-in-law’s 75th birthday. They aren’t a fall-down-drunk type of family, but if fewer than two glasses of wine are consumed per person, it’s an odd night. I had resolved not to drink – but I broke that resolution.
I have the usual cornucopia of emotions around it all, compounded by covid-fatigue (trying to work from home with my small kids is the worst. I just hate it). I’m just going to not try to analyze the feelings right now, will just feel them, go for a run once my husband gets onto his parenting shift, and make plans to do wonderful things for myself later today like eat the chocolate I’ve hidden away from the rest of my family and bake some rhubarb shortbread.
It occurred to me that one of my irritations with the Quit Lit is so many of these authors tell stories of their rock bottoms, and then tell stories about their early sober days and how great sober life is now – but very few recount details of the countless stops and starts in the meantime. Again, I considered being dishonest here because I find no joy in telling you all that I drank again despite wanting not to, but I thought that for posterity, it’s important to keep it real and be honest about the stops and starts.
Sober momentum is what I’m going for here. There’s some magic number where it will hopefully click but I know I’ve gotten nowhere near it in my past attempts. In the meantime, I just continue to gain a bit of momentum then come to a crashing halt.
I did download Belle Robertson’s new Relapse minibook today so will see what new shreds of wisdome I can gain from there on doing it differently this time! Hosting a big family celebration was probably too big a challenge for early sobriety but it had been planned for months and there was no avoiding it so – oh well. That’s all I have to say about that! At least I had the foresight to send the half-empty bottles of wine home with my sister-in-law and dodge that bullet.