Problem Friday again

Here’s what happened: earlier this afternoon, I started to anticipate a relapse. I wrote one or two comments on a couple of blogs which I think may have sounded glum, and as though I was about to fail. I then started to plan my relapse. My husband has got a bad cold, and when I picked him up from the station, I told him there and then that I was going to break my sobriety, stop writing the blog, and drink drink drink. I was fed up, I didn’t want to do this anymore, I wanted to be free, to do my own thing, not to be responsible. He suggested I wait for him, as he wouldn’t be drinking tonight because of his cold. My idea was that he go to bed, I could then have supper with the children and have my longed-for gin and tonic, and then some wine and watch television by myself and revel in my old life. ‘Just as long as you don’t sit downstairs and have 3 glasses of wine on your own,’ my husband said.

And that was it. Plan scuppered. Of course I can’t do all the above. I would have those drinks and IMMEDIATELY my 41 days would be forgotten and I’d be back where I started, responding to the urge to drink and drinking too much on my first night back in the dark.

So, what am I going to do instead? Well, I’m going to prepare the supper, eat the supper with the childen, take my husband his supper in bed (nice wife!), put the kids to bed, then make a large pot of herbal tea, find an old film and watch it, while not bemoaning my shattered sobriety. In order to achieve this, I have literally had to force myself to sit down and write all this, to type the temptation out of myself.