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This is the last time. I swear.

“Not again”. I had done it again. “Dammit.”

No matter how hard I tried, the lure of alcohol would tempt me into twisting open the caps of my $5 four-pack of cheap wine and, I promise you, every.single.day I would swear that “this is the last time”.

I swear.

I pinky promise.

*click, click, click as I twisted another one open.

And, I meant it. I really, really meant it. With every blessed, little ounce of sincerity inside of me, I wanted to not have to live this nightmare again the next day.

Dammit.

Dammit.

Dammit.

Why the f*ck can I not drink? I found myself planning my entire life around drinking. My game plan for the day was:

get the kids to school

run errands (aka buy alcohol)

taxi everyone around town to after-school activities (think about drinking)

make dinner (pretend to not be drinking alcohol)

settle them all into bed (so I could have another drink)

And, once again, I’d go to bed that same night swearing that tomorrow would be different.

So much work surrounded my drinking

planning my drinking

getting my alcohol

hiding the bottles

hiding my drinking

hiding the empties

hating myself for living a lie

promising myself that tomorrow will be different

waking up and doing it all over again.

It was exhausting.

I was exhausted.

I was tired of playing the games, running from my emotions and living a lie.

“This is the last time. I swear.”

When I got rid of alcohol, it was almost like the sun came out and there was a clarity and simplicity to life that had been missing for a very long time. I started seeing signs of the old me, the one who used to not drink, coming back. I started to see signs of the woman, the wife, the mom, the friend, the daughter, the sister I wanted to be. The healthy, sober version of all these different people living inside of me.

For some time, I used alcohol as a way to numb and hide from the pain of things: my past, my present, my future. All of it. I was living a life where I was numbing myself and hiding from any kind of pain inside ~ and what kind of life is that? It’s not. It’s not a life at all. I had things to work out, but rather than doing the work, I was running away. Drowning it all out with a bottle of wine when what I really needed to be doing was working on my mental health. Finding a way to deal with the pain instead of running from it. So that’s what I did. I did the work and instead of living in fear, I was living a truly full and present life.

Listen, I get it. If you’re using alcohol as a way to escape those feelings too, I get it. But you’re wrong. Alcohol is only going to mask those feelings for a little while and then multiply them and add more ugly feelings on top of the old ones.

Your mental health is so important and you are worth the work that you’ll need to do…even if it scares the crap out of you to do it. Don’t let alcohol fool you into believing differently.

So, the tricks on you, alcohol.

Sobriety is freaking amazing and you’re no longer welcome inside my head.

❤️❤️❤️ September is National Recovery Month. ❤️❤️❤️



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