And tonight

So yes, I took a pill Wednesday and was able to put a checkmark on the calendar. That is the only checkmark in the month of February. I took a pill Thursday morning and eased into drinking after work, thinking there weren't enough pills in my system to cause real problems. My cheeks heated up after the second beer, so I sipped my third even slower. We came home with two friends and a 12-pack and played cribbage, euchre, and golf. And I drank more and felt fine. And I felt fine in the morning, too.

Body-wise, that is. Mentally, I was kicking myself.

And yet the next night, more drinks. Antabuse must have a bit of a delay, because although I hadn't taken one that morning, my heart was beating hard and my cheeks were flushing. So I laid on the couch to relax for a bit, then had another one or two once I felt normal again.

And tonight, Saturday. Bowling. Pitcher, pitcher, pitcher.

Matt and I had a great conversation on the way home. I'll never be able to remember it all, but the high point is that I could use a hand. A light hand, but a hand nonetheless, and I would appreciate him asking "did you take your pill?" Monday morning.

See, I know me. I don't need strong finger-wagging or disgust or embarrassment or letting someone down. That would kill me. What I need (and what I'd like to be able to do for myself but somehow can't) is someone saying, "I see you. I see that. I don't like that. It could hurt us."

We talked about how we might be too easy-going with each other. We both have or have had our issues, and we're get-along sort of people. Which is wonderful in the day-to-day, but could hamstring us if we want to help each other change for the better or need help getting there. We talked about loving each other no matter what, but also seeing what is enriching and what is detrimental to us as a couple and a potential family.

Quit day: Monday

Re-do

This was originally written and posted Tuesday, February 23. I pulled it the following morning because I felt some vulnerability was showing, but hello. That's what we're here for.

*******

I still haven't managed to take that pill in my pocket.

I woke up this morning thinking, "You've been drinking reasonably and getting to work and not smelling of booze, but you didn't shut it down very well last night, did you? Nope. Not good, honey."

So with all kinds of fortitude I stuck that pill in my pocket again with the intention of taking it at 10:00 this morning. And then 9:30 hit, and I thought, "There are still drinks at home and you have tomorrow off. Sure, you could take that at 10:00. But there are drinks at home. And you have tomorrow off."

And here I am, drinking rum and cokes and doing my eye makeup and spritzing perfume and looking forward to sleeping in tomorrow.

Someone I love had a different sort of problem not too long ago. I want to emulate how he looked at his life, looked at the consequences, and said, "That's it. DONE." But he hasn't complained. He hasn't said, "Hey, honey? I'd like you to be present."

I see what that says there. I shouldn't need someone to complain before I make the change.

I shouldn't care that tomorrow I'm bowling and Thursday I'm meeting a friend and Friday I'm meeting a friend so maybe I should take this pill on Saturday? Oh, but I bowl again Saturday, so maybe Sunday? I don't want to drink. I want my friends who don't have this problem to do whatever comes naturally. What helps is everyone doing what they would normally do and I order lemonade instead of a beer. That makes it easier and feels like less of a spotlight. But I recognize I just need to do what I need to do, regardless. My decision.

***

HOLY SHIT.

My husband's urologist just called. Artificial insemination looks entirely possible after last summer's surgery. This changes everything. If my smile would fit on the computer screen it would be cracking it left and right. HOLY SHIT.

Oh boy, I want to cry right now.

When there is no possibility of children, what I do with my life is my business and the business of those who are already here. But the possibility of a family? 100% different.

Example of alcoholic thinking

I devised a new strategy and made a checkmark on the calendar for February 2 before I'd even left the house in the morning. Resolve was strong. That will make it official. No drinking today. Tomorrow you can go back to making a checkmark after the day has passed, but let's get a pre-emptive check in there first.

Hmm. Had to cross that one out. Didn't count. Didn't make it through the day.

Okay, the next day then. Check!

No. Didn't take Antabuse, had some drinks. Had a lot of drinks, as a matter of fact. Cross it out.

Thursday? Well, I had half a pint left and that seemed like too much to simply throw away. I know! I'll finish it tonight and start fresh tomorrow! Good plan.

Oh, but Friday. It's Friday, after all. I should probably get some booze to replace what I finished. After all, friends are coming over, it's social, and I can start fresh on Monday. Or Sunday. But probably Monday.

Liar liar

Ah, how we pull the wool over our own eyes.

For months I've been thinking I have this under control, that it's not so bad, that it's not impacting my day-to-day life, and while on one hand that's true, it's still a load of horseshit.

It's still a problem. I look back over these posts and immediately see what I've edited out, what I've minimized. The fact is, plain and simple, it's a problem.

It's a problem if you have zero money and you buy a pint of Bacardi. It's a problem if you've carried Antabuse in your pocket to work each day for weeks but don't take it when it is time.

I have to get past the idea that I can be sober Monday through Thursday and drink on the weekend. Even a beer with friends - simply not a good idea. I need a complete shutdown.

I want to be a better wife, a better sister, a better daughter, a better friend, and a better me.