It has been a kind of emotional 24 hours on the home front, and to be candid, I did spend some significant time yesterday thinking about booze. But I didn’t drink.
Also a rough night for sleep, and I think today’s exercise is going to be a very long, head-clearing walk. But I’m proud of myself for not drinking yesterday. The pull was probably the strongest it’s been since I quit. So a few things on that:
- While I’ve never been a blackout drunk, killed-the-dog PROBLEM drinker, it’s pretty amazing the hold booze still has on me. It’s been almost a year, and a super stressful day sent me into, like, hand-twitching cravings.
- My motivation for not drinking was mainly an internalizing of alcohol as the weakness and an inner story about how I am not going to let this problem take me down.
- Which is interesting. But alcohol has, at some point, become synonymous with weakness and escape in my brain. Drinking = surrender. And while my willpower still needs a lot of work with food, it’s apparently pretty strong in this particular province.
So there y’go. I didn’t drink yesterday, and I’m not going to drink today. It wasn’t a “one day at a time” narrative, it was a “you’re not going to win, you son of a bitch” narrative. Not that the other doesn’t have value, it just turned out not to be my go-to.