You've already told yourself what to do, Pam. And you've already achieved it. You quit. Done. All the rest is just noise created by the addiction. Including all this self doubt—saying your full of it, using that as an excuse to quit—it's all hogwash!
Are you less of an addict when you're in another country? Do you love yourself or your family less because the people speak a different language? It's silly when you think about it—geography is irrelevant. So is time. Now and then, present and future—it's all moot, because you've decided to never drink again, and to never change your mind. Foolish Beast—what part of "never" does he not understand?
Also ridiculous: the notion that everyone drinks in France. B, period, S, period. Sure, lots of people drink there. Lots of people drink here. You're not lots of people. You're Pam. And you no longer drink. Good thing, too. Because every alcoholic who drinks themselves into an early grave have one thing in common—they all bought into an excuse to drink. A place, a time, an event, a mood... there are as many excuses as there are addicts (and beasts). But none of those matters when you've decided to never drink again.
I can't tell you how much better I felt once I closed the door for good. The whole "should I or shouldn't I?" debate is sooooo exhausting. It's funny, because the idea of "never" used to scare me. But once I embraced it, I discovered it wasn't a burden at all. If anything, it feels more like a protective bubble. I imagine France would look very nice indeed as seen through the bubble of "never."
