10.25pm on a Friday night and I am turning to my blog. Yet again, I am back in a bad place. I had had 4 sober days, and then caved this evening when I went to a book signing party and drank lots of glasses of I’m not sure what. I liked talking to the people there, but the more I drank, the more I lost a sense of what I was doing. I looked about at one point and EVERYONE was drinking. EVERYONE. I could not see one single glass of water, not one. And at that moment, I felt a sense of desolation, a sense that I would never be able to manage a scenario like this.
And then the rest of the evening fell apart. My husband had been out, and when he came home, I was immediately obstreperous. He is having a hard time at work at the moment, and earlier in the evening, he had asked for my help. I think his words were, ‘Please help me.’
But later in the evening, he said I was aggressive, and by then I was questioning how much help he was being for me with the family, and I was challenging him about it. And that’s when he said, ‘You’re different when you’ve had pop.’ Those were his words.
It’s just not working. Drinking, I mean. I went out this evening, planning to drink nothing. I drank I don’t know how many drinks. I came home and my husband and I argued. He is now in bed, and I am downstairs writing this.
Day 0, Day 1, Day 60, Day 30. When is it going to be my day?