I come back from dinner and there's like two more pages of posts! I can't keep up!!!
I keep feeling like it isn't necessarily
how much I drink (during my heaviest drinking times I probably only averaged about 35 units a week) but what happens to me
when I drink.
Being utterly convinced I am stone cold sober, even when all evidence points otherwise...
Continuing to drink even when I am already beyond wasted (see above!)...
Doing things I will later regret...
Not remembering having done things that I will later regret...
Being so incapacitated that my husband once stayed up all night to keep watch over me, just to make sure I was still breathing...
I could always go a few days without drinking, or a few weeks only having a glass of wine with dinner here and there. But when the flood gates opened...all that successful management of my alcohol intake got washed away.
The blackouts, the guilt, being a burden to my loved ones...I'm just not interested in it any more.
To a certain extent, and this is going to sound totally bitchy to those who've had to overcome a daily physical dependency on alcohol, I wish I weren't so occasionally responsible with drinking. As it is, coming to terms with being altogether unaccountable -- each drink I have might be the one that sets me on the path to being blacked out on the floor of the bathroom -- is the current struggle.