One spring-fresh morning a few months ago I woke up with a head banging hangover complete with desert-dry mouth, racing heart, pounding head, upset stomach and high anxiety. Day ruined.
Why? I curled up in bed and tried putting the pieces back together.
Friday evening had followed our late day ritual, repeated over years and then decades. Cocktails at 5 pm, wine while cooking and eating dinner. Another glass of wine while watching the news (who can watch the news and not drink?) as Bill tidied the kitchen.
What did I watch on Netflix? Beats me.
Did I phone or text anyone? Yep
What was the phone conversation about? I would have had to ask my sister, but that was too embarrassing.
I don't remember making it downstairs to bed.
They say that when you Google, "Do I have a drinking problem?" you undoubtedly do. I didn't bother, cause I knew I wasn't one of them.
Instead I asked myself, "What in the hell was I thinking?" I didn't know then that thinking wasn't part of the equation because ethanol had taken over my brain.
I remember saying that Dry January didn't make sense (seriously, what's the point?) but the honest-to-god truth was I didn't think I could last a month. That morning though, in self-imposed shame I decided to pause my drinking for 34 days. Why 34? That's how long I had before leaving for an Alaska cruise.
I decided to document this experiment. Join me at the next installment, Ripples, if you are curious about sobriety, think you might have an unhealthy relationship with alcohol, or simply want to see where this story leads.
Cheers!
