miserably giving up drinking
I’ve never been a fall-down drunk. I’ve only been completely hammered twice in my life. I’ve never been sick from drinking. and i was very proud of this. I’ve been a good girl, a high functioning girl. I never drink too much… maybe 3 glasses of wine in an evening, perhaps 4. I never finish a bottle myself. On vacation, i might have beer with lunch, 2 pints. then have a nap. then get up and have dinner and share a bottle of wine with my husband. then have a nightcap (cointreau, grand marnier).
I never wanted to be hammered, i just wanted a buzz, to relax.
the problem is that most normal working days, i wake up feeling like a bag of shit. I go for a run, have a healthy lunch, drink tea all afternoon. Then at 6 pm i start with the wine again. never more than 3 glasses. never more than 4 glasses. or a beer + 3 + nightcap. Every single night, night after night. On weekends and on vacation i just start earlier in the day.
i never want one glass of wine. i want three and a shot of cointreau.
i have about 15 pounds to lose, i have some vacation debt to pay down and drinking doesn’t help achieve either.
i am cranky with my husband when i’ve had even one drink. I’m more likely to cry, get into an argument, and go to bed unhappy on evenings that include wine.
and most of all, i hate that i can’t keep a promise to myself to reduce, skip days, and have only one glass.
oh red wine, you call to me. i see you in the store window. i see other people drinking you on the restaurant patios in the sun.
oh red wine. you fucker. as soon as the bottle is opened you start calling to me. “drink me. drink me now. make sure you get more than you give your husband, make sure you top up your glass first before his, make sure you send him out to buy more before the store closes.”