For the first time ever I had a Instagram Memory pop up and my first memory made me sad. No I wasn’t drinking here, but shortly thereafter I did. I had about 2 months sober in this pic after the first time I’ve really tried to stop drinking for me. It was also a start of a long 7.5 month battle of chronic relapsing.
This chronic relapse memory, brought up every emotion today (even a bit of anxiety. I was on vacation, in a town in rural Panama which had been hell, for almost 3 weeks, I had no support in fact my “friends” that live there, were downright cruel to me about quitting alcohol and my husband wasn’t much better. It was awful. Sure enough we switched countries a few days later and I said “fuck it I’ll drink on vacation I’m bored without it and I’ll quit again when I get home” and I also started back up smoking. We were on vacation for until the end of February, and I had made up for my not drinking. I felt like crap when I got home, I’d gained a ton of weight in a month, I was hungover and anxious. We got home and usually we would “dry out” but it turned out the next weekend after getting home, we had brought a big bottle of vodka home because booze is cheap anywhere but Canada and I helped consume it. Then again on a Thursday because we had company in. A couple of weeks later, I went to LA to the Bliss Project for 4 days and thought that would be a great start to dry out and I didn’t drink, started to run again which just about killed me (remember I’d smoke when drinking) and I got back home and drank, this vicious cycle continued. I’d get a week in a few days in and boom I’d be right back sitting on the patio drinking and smoking. I blamed it on the good weather, the bad weather, on my husband for no support, on my period, on stress. I blamed my chronic relapsing on anything but my own actions. It took until August of 2017 I got sober, but this pic to August was one of my longest hardest journeys in my life. I wanted off planet earth, I was that depressed and deflated. I wish I had never started drinking on vacation. It was too hard to get back at it.
You can’t change yesterday, but if you are reading this, thinking you can moderate or saying fuck it I’ll start next week again. Please reread the line that said “it was the longest hardest journey in my life” and I’ve done some hard things like be a single mom with no child support and live by the beach in one of the most expensive cities in North America, go back to school at the age of 30, waitressed nights, dated addicts. This was the toughest, getting sober again.