Don’t know how to explain my moments of weakness. I just wish they would stop, or at the very least, become less frequent. I’m getting really tired of this.
Last night, well, yesterday late afternoon as I was getting ready to leave work, the monkey chatter began AGAIN. “It’s over. Just go get a drink. You can always start over again. You learn from your past failures. This time will be the last, for sure” and on and on it went.
So, already having given up and choosing to drink again, I was trying to decide what I wanted. If I was going to fuck up my 115 days sober, I was going to do it right, by golly. “What did I want? A martini? No, that would be like drinking lighter fluid. Hm, a beer? I could do that, but then I’d have to have a shot of tequila to get me to my buzz faster. That would lead to a stop on the way home to buy more. So, do I want a beer that badly? How about a fancy mixed drink or a Cosmo?”
My battle went on for the bus ride home and inside my car, where I sat for about 10 minutes trying to figure out what I wanted to do. My brain really wanted the drink, but my body was like, yuck, not a chance. So bizarre. I started the ignition and headed out the parking lot toward home. I passed a few liquor stores on the way. My reason for not stopping was because they were mom and pop stores and I knew they wouldn’t have the small box wines I like. Strange rationalization, I admit.
I got home and sat in the garage deciding whether to pull back out again or just go inside. I went inside. Made a cup of tea and sat there. I reheated some leftovers, ate dinner, got back into my car and drove to a 7-11 for a candy bar. Once back home, I had my chocolate. My moment had passed.
Why? Why is that still happening daily? Shouldn’t I be beyond the daily cravings? Ugh.
Time to fill my early evening void with something out of the routine, the norm, the habitual.