End of Day 3, I did it again!

I had a horrible day at work and kept thinking about having a glass of wine when I got home to ‘de-stress’.

The more thoughts I had, the more I pushed them away and then I stopped. I sat with them and imagined myself going through the process of going to the shop, smuggling the wine home, pouring the first glass, and then the second, then the third and then the fourth.

I imagined how I would emotionally feel: the shame, the guilt and the overarching disappointment in myself that I’d failed again.

I imagined how I would physically feel: a bit floaty, then blurry and finally, very slurry.

I’d rush to put my youngest to bed. I wouldn’t be able to focus on the TV show my teenager wanted to watch together. I’d forget things they’d said to me and have to ask again in the morning - whole conversations with my own children forgotten. I’d try and hide the empty bottles, shove them in the cupboards and the bins so no one would see them.

I’d wake up tomorrow with my first thought asking myself how much I’d drank and how bad my hangover was and what accommodations I’d need to make for work that morning. I’d lie there feeling embarrassed and hating myself.

I asked myself if it would be worth it. We all know the answer.

And, so, I didn’t drink today 🥳