***Submitted by Anonymous
I am eleven days away from one year of sobriety and I'm scared. I'm scared because the conversation in my head, the looped one that just goes round and round, has been on repeat for the last two days. It goes something like this:
If I can not drink for a whole year, then I'm not an alcoholic.
The fact that I can't stop thinking about this means that I am an alcoholic.
No one would know if I drank.
But I don't care.
Yes you do.
I could buy a bottle and stash it. Late at night when I'm alone, I could have some. It would help me relax, help me get to sleep. It would taste so good. It would FEEL so good.
No it wouldn't. It would taste terrible. It would make you feel ashamed and guilty.
No I'm not.
What about your family? They're so proud of you.
Fuck them. They're the only reason I'm not 'allowed' to drink and I resent them for that.
How can you resent them for loving and needing you? For wanting you to be healthy and sober?
Because I do.
That's your alcoholism talking.
No, that's me being honest.
No, I'm pathetic--there's a difference. And my angry, sad, miserable and pathetic self would really like a drink.
You realize that there's no such thing as "a drink" with you, right?
Have you forgotten the hangovers? The black outs? The shaking hands? The waking up every two hours soaked in your own sweat?
The "vodka shits" every other day? The twenty-four hour a day headaches? The inability to think about anything but the bottle? The shots added to your coffee at seven in the morning just to stop the shakes and ease the pain? Is any of this ringing a bell?
No. Let's keep talking. Let's talk about the look in your daughter's eyes every time she looked at you during that month after you woke the whole house up by passing out cold and cracking your head on the floor, causing her to rush out to see what the loud noise was and finding her MOTHER drunk and unconscious. Let's talk about how THAT FELT.
I don't want to talk about that. I don't want to think about that.
If you drink, and she finds out, that look will come back, but this time it will be so much worse. Because this time she KNOWS what you are. And she KNOWS that you've been sober for a year. And she's proud of you and she trusts you again. She believes in you. And if you go back to where you were, she may never, ever trust you again. That look may never leave her eyes.
I know. But. I don't know if that's enough to keep me from drinking.
I know it should be enough. I want it to be enough.
Most days it is. Today it is.
Good. Today is all that matters.
We'll talk tomorrow.