prickly

We’re prickly, you and I. We’re a difficult bunch. We make up our minds – I do – without enough information. We stick to decisions long past the time when they’re useful. We over-invest in anus colleagues. We bristle at playing the ‘reindeer’ games at the office but then resent when we’re not included in said games.
We’re prickly, you and me. If you offer to help me but you don’t ask me the ‘right’ way, I’ll say no. Automatically. I’ll prance around saying look at me, right up until you do look, and then I’ll retreat. Prickly. If I smell that you don’t need me as much as I need you, I’ll sulk.

It’s hard to be prickly and also want to be sober, because our natural gut-instinct, first-response, default answer is “that won’t work for me.” No matter what’s being presented. We didn’t think of it ourselves, therefore it won’t work.

I’ll do it my way, we say. I say.

We try to be sober our way. It doesn’t really work. And since we’re invested in reading about sobriety, then our drinking isn’t a problem (says wolfie). Because ‘real’ problem drinkers probably aren’t even aware of it.

And we are. So we’re better. Than ‘them’.

We lurk on sober blogs (read without engaging; follow without investing; consume without paying) because – if you’re like me – you’re not sure you want to really invest. Yourself, your energy, your time, your money. Wolfie insists that you read with only one eye, that you keep one foot in the “maybe I’ll drink later” camp.

You think I can’t see you there, and I can. Lurking. You don’t think about carrots. You don’t over-carrotize. You’re here because you do think about drinking. You do over-drink.

Time to step up.