Honesty Time

Honesty time.

After saying I was going to quit red wine, I did a thing that a lot of drinkers do; I decided that one last “hurrah” was ok.  You know, to say a proper goodbye. That opportunity was perfectly presented to me yesterday.

My partner, who shall henceforth be known as Mr. Stardust, decided that we needed to have a get-together last night. He had invited a few couples and wanted to treat or friends to a meal.

A few people came out, and we actually wound up having a really nice time.  It was great to see everyone, and we all seemed to enjoy ourselves.

Although my memory gets a bit hazy.  It was a bit of an indulgent evening. Of course red wine was poured, and I faced a question which was barely a question.  Maintain my resolve, or give in to the last-goodbye. Dear reader, I drank the wine, and then some. After all, I had already half-convinced myself to give in, and I was already home, with no one depending on me.  What the hell. One more time. I had been thinking about it anyway. It’s just a little wine.

So the wine flowed, I laughed and talked and was social.  We played fun music. Overall, a great time was had, and all parties left with a full stomach.  However, after drinking the equivalent of about a bottle, I don’t fully recall how my evening ended.  (I managed to get every bit of my inky eyeliner off though, and I’m still not sure how it happened!)

I spent this morning and a portion of this afternoon in utter hell.  I felt so ill, I didn’t particularly want to stand up. I was incapable of enduring the very thought of food.  No position was comfortable. My head pounded and my stomach was unpredictable.

It’s awful to feel wretched.  A sorry state I was. The part that surprises me is that really, by some people’s standards, it’s not like I even drank that much.  Indulgent, yes, but I would have expected this level of illness from shots of vodka, or something equally powerful.  Nope, one bottle of red wine, and every part of me will loathe last night’s Minerva the following day.

I remembered what booze can do.  Viscerally.  

On the upside, this experience ought to help keep the demon off my shoulder for a day or two.  I also took some other steps to make this a serious project now, and to tighten my resolve. I downloaded a sobriety app to chart the number of days sober, and I also called my sister.

That last bit turned out to be a great choice.  It would seem that my sister is also becoming both wary and weary of alcohol. She doesn’t like how it makes her feel overall, and as a single mom, she really doesn’t time for hangovers of feeling run down. 

So now we’re doing this together and I have real, in-my-face accountability.  (It’s still uncomfortable to admit that I messed this up here though, I don’t want to do this again!)

That means that I have: my sister, an app, a new resolve, and a stomach that lurches at the mere thought of alcohol…let’s do this!

(Actually for real this time.)

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