If I’m really honest with myself, I know the drinking isn’t good for me.
Someone told me… to do what makes me happy, as far as alcohol is concerned. And maybe it isn’t making me happy. It’s making me paranoid, low and confused. I wonder if it’s causing the nightmares keeping me up late enough to write this post at this hour. With a cider. It’s making me feel fat.
But did not-drinking ever really make me happy? I watched with envy as others sipped their vodkas, felt annoyance whenever I thought of how hard it really is not to drink. For anyone. Resentments built up and that’s not a healthy way to live either. But was I getting better at handling it? If I’d reached three months, then four, then five, would it have become easier? Now I can’t see a way out, I’m making excuses: Christmas, my birthday, New Year’s Eve are all coming up, and I can’t imagine them without alcohol. I can’t imagine anyone else enjoying them with me sober. Plus, now I’ve drank, no-one would respect my sobriety anymore anyway. Maybe that’s low self-esteem- I don’t have the confidence to imagine that someone might enjoy my company without a drink. I think I am boring, and shy and awkward and I don’t believe in myself. I feel like alcohol makes me more fun to be around.
A good friend recently told me that she prefers me sober. That I am kinder. Happier. Yet so many people have said it’s nice to be able to enjoy a drink with me again, that they’ve missed the cheeky halves and the silliness of an afternoon pint.
Meanwhile, my friends in “recovery” have stopped talking to me. I guess I understand why it’s better for them not to be around someone who drinks but I can’t live my life like that. I cannot live my life in a bubble, can’t cut off old friends or stop living my life just because I had/ have a problem. If I was anxious about a party, my recovery friends would say “don’t go to the party, then.” But I can’t skip every social event on the off-chance I might drink. There’ll be birthdays, weddings and christenings that I can’t just miss. There’ll be lectures at which I could network. There’ll be pubs in which I will meet my friends. Maybe part of drinking again is the knowledge of this, of the fact that I will have to face these occasions- and regularly- and don’t know that I have the strength to.
Who am I doing this for? Do I want to drink, or have I become stuck in a rut again? Can I handle this, or will I become ill again? Could I stop if I wanted to? Why can’t I see a way out?
These are questions I need to be answering truthfully if I am going to cope with all this, yet these are questions I am struggling to answer because I genuinely don’t know the answers. I’m feeling alone with it all, because (the same goes for anyone and their problems) nobody else can answer these questions for me and nobody else can keep me from drinking. Or keep me drinking.
It’s something I have to work out all by myself.