61 Days today
Yesterday I was sober for 60 days, and I felt really crappy. Headache, tired, listless, and worst of all, lightheaded – or “woozy” as I call it. I don’t know if it is my body punishing me for withholding the stuff that made it feel good (and sick the next day), for so long? Maybe it just said – “enough now, I want/need a drink”. And I did, for a few minutes there. Yesterday morning I came really close. “Stepmom” was ruder than her normal hungover self and pee-ed me off even more than usual, and I had this inner voice (the AV, I suppose) telling me that a few drinks would be really great right then. That one day was not going to matter. That tomorrow I can be right back on the wagon. Just one day. Just one bottle of Scotch, that's all. The shop’s not even a kilometer away, I could be back in 20 minutes…
But then I thought of the old b**** laughing and smirking to herself and congratulating herself on making me drink again and how good it would make her feel…and that was enough reason to not to. Not to drink. No matter if it would make me feel better; if it would make me – and my worries and cares – float away for a few hours; as well as the aches and pains which I thought was gone for good.
So I did not drink. In 2 days I would equal and then pass my old record of 63 days. After that, it would be the same as it is now, I suppose. Just one day at a time.
And today, at least, I will NOT drink.