Still Day 1, second post today. Here is what just happened: 5 o’clock-ish slump and I started to panic about what I was embarking on. I asked my husband what he thought I should do – I couched it in terms of ‘don’t you think this sobriety plan is all a bit of a big deal, and don’t we like drinking wine at weekends?’ He looked confused, and said it was my decision, and he’d support me whatever I decided. So I skipped off to the larder and put a bottle of white in the fridge and planned my downfall. I emailed a couple of people who know what I’m trying to do, and tried to worm my way out of sobriety, apologising, laying a path for myself which would mean I was forgiven, could do what I wanted, carry on drinking drinking drinking.
Went back to where my husband was working and said that I did want to do the 100 days after all. He commented that I’d come to find him at 5pm, the time I usually text him at work and suggest a gin and tonic. He’s getting used to my tricks. I said to him, ‘I think it’s worrrying that I’m in this head space. I think it’s worrying that I’ve just spent half an hour debating with myself whether or not to have wine tonight.’
Put wine back in larder. Need to give wine away.
I could so easily drag myself down, start again tomorrow, never ever get to where I want to get, always make excuses for myself. It’s happened countless times before.
6pm now. I’m still here.