Today is Friday, and I am very recently back to giving up the booze. I am going for a weekend away to our holiday home by the sea today, and feeling nervous about the not drinking bit. This morning after a great night of lovely alcohol free sleep, I feel very committed to my cause, but my past weakness has made me concerned that I will crash out, under the persuasive mutterings of my internal addict, every time I pass the trendy bars, and see the happy, laughing people bouncing in. I am preparing myself for it today though. She is going to pitch the relapse as “Next time will be different”. “One drink, maybe two – go on!”. “Drinking is ‘normal’, everyone does it!”
I will not be reminded of that time I twisted my ankle there, after eight pints of lager, and wasn’t able to walk for days, and it was swollen for 6 months; nothing to do with being drunk – it was a wonky cobble that was to blame. I’ll forget the time I threw up, and ruined the new sofa in the holiday home’s bedroom; we’d gone out for a nice lunch, foregone the lunch, and carried on drinking until midnight!, Please S, I could go on, and on here, with tales of drunken debacles.
Next time will not be different, it will be the same. Maybe worse?
Have a lovely refreshing tonic instead, and enjoy watching the reality of the happy, laughing people who bounced into the trendy bars, as they later stagger out, arguing or fighting!