I deserve a drink
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Join Date: Sep 2010
Location: I'm on it!
Posts: 2,038
I deserve a drink
[irony]
So I've been thinking lately about relapse. This morning I got up and it was a beautiful day outside and I thought that a couple of beers on the porch might be nice when I got home from work. Of course, a couple usually turns into a case and then I pass out until I wake up at 3am with cold sweats.
I got into work and I came to the realization that I have been way too reliable and punctual since I got sober a year ago. I think maybe I deserve to stay home all day drinking vodka without leaving bed, developing a bad taste in my mouth and a general stench. I really deserve that.
At lunch, I though that maybe instead of the beers on the porch I'll stop at a bar on the way home. After all, I haven't dropped $100+ dollars in one sitting for quite a while. Sure, money is tight right now, but I think I deserve having it a little tighter.
I got a text message from a friend at work in the afternoon, asking if I was coming to the AA meeting tonight. I thought, well maybe I'll skip it and pick up a bottle of tequila on the way home. With half the bottle gone I'd end up calling him anyways, to cry about how pathetic my life was and how depressed I was and how I wished I could be like.... Anyone other than me. Then of course I'd call my parents and any of my ex-girlfriends whose numbers I could remember, just to embarrass myself with droning on about how I wish things were like the good old days.
I got an email confirming my appointment with my therapist and it reminded me that I really haven't had a good ol' delusional episode in quite a while. I haven't really sat up at night listening to the cars go down the street while clutching the bedsheets in fear, or written down the license plates of anyone I thought was following me, or been afraid of people inside the house that weren't really there. I haven't even had a panic attack lately; boy, I'm really missing out!
When I got home I stretched out my back and realized that it had been quite a while since I felt that dull pain in my abdomen, and spent hours breaking out in a cold sweat, googling all the symptoms of liver failure, or kidney failure. I really ought to run out and grab a bottle of wine, since I've been depriving myself of the pleasure of being a hypochondriac lately, or given myself good reason to worry about my health.
When I started typing out this post I realized that my hands were steady as could be. What happened to the good old days when they shook so furiously that I couldn't even type? What happened to the good old days of staying up all night drinking and being a total wreck in the morning? I really miss those lost weekends where I don't really remember much between taking that first drink on Friday night and calling in sick to work Monday morning.
I think I deserve a drink. Life has been way too easy for me lately, it ought to be a lot harder than this.
[/irony]
So I've been thinking lately about relapse. This morning I got up and it was a beautiful day outside and I thought that a couple of beers on the porch might be nice when I got home from work. Of course, a couple usually turns into a case and then I pass out until I wake up at 3am with cold sweats.
I got into work and I came to the realization that I have been way too reliable and punctual since I got sober a year ago. I think maybe I deserve to stay home all day drinking vodka without leaving bed, developing a bad taste in my mouth and a general stench. I really deserve that.
At lunch, I though that maybe instead of the beers on the porch I'll stop at a bar on the way home. After all, I haven't dropped $100+ dollars in one sitting for quite a while. Sure, money is tight right now, but I think I deserve having it a little tighter.
I got a text message from a friend at work in the afternoon, asking if I was coming to the AA meeting tonight. I thought, well maybe I'll skip it and pick up a bottle of tequila on the way home. With half the bottle gone I'd end up calling him anyways, to cry about how pathetic my life was and how depressed I was and how I wished I could be like.... Anyone other than me. Then of course I'd call my parents and any of my ex-girlfriends whose numbers I could remember, just to embarrass myself with droning on about how I wish things were like the good old days.
I got an email confirming my appointment with my therapist and it reminded me that I really haven't had a good ol' delusional episode in quite a while. I haven't really sat up at night listening to the cars go down the street while clutching the bedsheets in fear, or written down the license plates of anyone I thought was following me, or been afraid of people inside the house that weren't really there. I haven't even had a panic attack lately; boy, I'm really missing out!
When I got home I stretched out my back and realized that it had been quite a while since I felt that dull pain in my abdomen, and spent hours breaking out in a cold sweat, googling all the symptoms of liver failure, or kidney failure. I really ought to run out and grab a bottle of wine, since I've been depriving myself of the pleasure of being a hypochondriac lately, or given myself good reason to worry about my health.
When I started typing out this post I realized that my hands were steady as could be. What happened to the good old days when they shook so furiously that I couldn't even type? What happened to the good old days of staying up all night drinking and being a total wreck in the morning? I really miss those lost weekends where I don't really remember much between taking that first drink on Friday night and calling in sick to work Monday morning.
I think I deserve a drink. Life has been way too easy for me lately, it ought to be a lot harder than this.
[/irony]
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