Here we are a month later from my last post. I am a terrible blogger! Unreliable and not updated regularly. Until I started this blogged I didn't think too much about the time, dedication and energy it takes to blog-it-out successfully. Thanks bloggers, I respect the work you do.
I look back at my first few months on this journey and see that I was blogging everyday. Everyday! I can't imagine finding the time to do that now, even my bus rides to work are full with such enjoyable reading space that I can't bear to rip myself away from my alternate worlds. Yet, I think about blogging and what would I write about almost daily. It's like a little check in on my own state. Do I have something to process? To I have anything to share about being sober rat this point, right now? And usually, I'm pretty meh about what is going on. It all seems so minor compared to where I passed through those first 5-6 months.
But there are new developments, new snags and old flashes of "fucking forever?" And of great desires for a drink that knocks me over at times.
The questioning of how long I have to "do this" comes when I feel overly confident that I wasn't a problem drinker or when I miss the culture of being part of that crowd. But this is less and less, and I still can mentally walk myself through the drink and see that the end results are not desirable and I turn to less damaging vices: shisha, chocolate, soda water (when available)
A couple of months ago I was making bread that called for some beer. I used that cup of beer and pour the rest of it into a glass for Husband. And then I took a sip of it. Yep, a sip. And it did taste good! And then I thought through the drink and realized I haven't once ordered a non-alcoholic beer, so I must not love the taste that much. I do believe I associate the taste with all the other stuff My body loved about drinking. Pavlovian for sure.
Why didn't I blog about this sip earlier? I considered it, but then thought it wasn't a big deal to me and that by writing about it, it would make it a big deal. And I realized that I feared being judged by some my made-up fascist AA'ers that would now say that I relapsed because of that sip or just as bad that this is the first slip to the path of relapse - "they" are just waiting for me to be another statistic of failure. And I just am not that. I am successfully finding my way just fine by my own terms. So those self-created AA haters can shove it, I'm living the dream.
I used to drink with the best of them, but I don't anymore. My life is so much better for it.
-Drinking: A Love Story by Caroline Knapp