Friday. Fridays are hard when you’re trying to stay sober. I’ve just been to the supermarket and I bought a bottle of white wine. I was going to buy a bottle of red as well, but I didn’t. I also bought several AF alternatives. As I walked round the shop, I wanted to abandon my sober plan, shut down the blog, email all my sober friends to tell them what I was doing; and then when my husband got home tonight, I wanted to sit and have a drink with him, and I don’t mean an elderflower cordial.
This is where I am at the moment, on the cusp. This is why it was such a bad idea to give up after 42 days when I’d relaxed into my sober momentum, and now these first few days are TERRIBLE.
I hate it, I hate it, I hate it. I think the reason this post (indeed, this blog) is so repetitive, is because I go round and round in circles, one minute super-positive and making myself fresh lemon juice sparkly thing, the next wanting to spin the top off the gin bottle. It is TERRIBLE (again).
I read sober blogs for much of the morning, and am so impressed and inspired by those bloggers who sound calm and centred, and as though they are much further along the path than me. I can’t get there; I simply can’t get there.