…feeling good about it. Content. Solid. And…
SO FUCKING GLAD to not have had the crazyass blackout one of my old drinking buddies had last night! I still have to check in with her to see exactly how she even made it to work today. Though, I’m so over the drama that I’m not sure I can even be bothered to involve myself: I KNOW the details; I lived through it. Finding yourself lost, drunk, confused; on subway platforms, buses, cabs, standing alone in the rain; in the middle of the night, in the early light of dawn — waking up from a blackout with that sinking feeling of Oh, fuck. And that’s all BEFORE the hangover starts and you begin to remember what you actually did. Ugh.
After seven whole weeks, I’m finally feeling like there’s something to this sobriety thing. Like, resisting the cravings and grinning and bearing it is just the beginning. I went to see the new Batman movie tonight and well, I actually felt like it was enough, the movie. Before, during, and after, it was enough. I didn’t need to feel high, or drunk, or anything but sober. I was waiting for it, but the disappointment that always seems to accompany any sort of entertainment without booze — well, it simply didn’t come tonight. Thank God(dess)!
It’s nice to just…enjoy, absorb, FEEL my sober seconds, minutes, hours, days tick by. It’s becoming more the norm, I’m fighting it less. I like waking up knowing I haven’t done something stupid in a blackout, like my friend busting a chair that she found discarded on the sidewalk in a drunken fit/rage. I like hearing the frogs and crickets at night outside, or watching tv, writing, reading a book. I like getting things done, planning my day, looking forward to tomorrow. I like going to sleep because I’m actually starting to feel tired at night. Mostly, I like being in control, claiming my choice and not giving my privacy and self-respect to other people who, if they’re drinking “buddies,” likely don’t deserve it.
And, I like standing firm in my choice, despite the fact that I get the feeling my friend isn’t really all that happy about me going on two months sober. Like, she’s losing and I’m winning. It looks like it’s for real, like it’s finally sticking this time, the no drinking thing. No one’s going to stop me, no one’s going to label me a drunk anymore. I decide who and what I be and do. It’s empowering, is what it is.
(Sure, I’d love a glass of red, but what’s holding me back is my vanity (read: wine gut), my competitive nature, these seven weeks and not wanting to “lose the game” and break my stride, and well, my ego (proving to myself and friends that I can do this)). All good enough reasons, I think, and so far, they seem to be enough. Whatever works, right?)