I am not drinking. When you’ve read this blog post, you might find that to be a pretty damn good outcome.
Little One and I are in Anchorage. Our ongoing family emergency has escalated and I had to check a family member into the hospital here. We drove down yesterday, and got a flat about 40 miles from town. Thank goodness the Spouse Extraordinaire put a small, cigarette-lighter-activated air compressor in the back of the van. We were able to inflate the tire and drive slowly, checking about every 8 minutes. It made for a long 40 miles. In the end, I got the family member checked in at 2:30 a.m.
Little One and I then went to our hotel, again limping the van along. We checked in just after 3 and the fire alarm for the whole hotel went off the minute we had jammies on. So, out to the lobby in our pjs. Wait for the alarm to be cleared. Back to the room and to sleep around 4:45. Up at 9 for a day of finding a new tire (they’re Blizzaks, so we have to replace all 4 in the end), and then the much-promised trip to Chuck E. shootmenow. Then on to the bookstore, where Little One lost me for a minute and burst into tears. At this point, we’re living on peanut butter sandwiches and bottled water, so back to the hotel room for a bath and some food.
I still have to figure out if we can drive on this tire. It’s a long, long way home.
I drove down here and did all the hospital stuff while having intermittent panic attacks. But, since it was an emergency-a crisis- and since I do crisis well, I made it ok. The minute I relaxed into this hotel bed, full blown panic washed over me. I was ready for it, and was able to breathe and meditate through the fear and anxiety.
The thing is, the minute this emergency turned into an emergency trip, my stupid brain started telling me that a glass of wine would be ok. We’d be gone from home, Little One wouldn’t know what I was doing really, and nobody would know. I’d be at a hotel and I could take a bath and have some wine and…doesn’t that sound lovely? I could handle it.
Seriously?! What the fuck, brain??
We *just* had an AAA meeting on Wednesday where we talked about the demon that lives in a corner of all alcoholic brains, telling us nonsense like this. It was uncanny. I am so glad to have had that discussion, so I could then deal with my own stupid demon, knowing it’s normal and expecting to have to handle some self-imposed stupidity.
Lucky for me my best friend lives here in Anchorage, and knowing I’d be seeing him also helps keep me honest. He’s a rock as a friend and doesn’t drink. He also doesn’t judge, but he *does* know about what I’ve been dealing with.
So. I’m here. I’m dealing with a pretty big family emergency. I’m sober. I’m not going to drink. I’m writing. I’m talking to people who can help me through this. I’m doing all the right things.
THANKS to every single person who reads this blog, whether you post replies or not. This is difficult stuff, and knowing so many people out there are reading and not judging, that’s very powerful and very helpful.
Keep kicking addiction’s ass!