My poor husband: one minute I’m on the sober trail, the next I’m begging him to let me forget all my good intentions. So it’s no surprise that he was pretty sceptical last night, when I told him I had booked an appointment to see the counsellor, and that I had to pay up front to secure the slot. He said he had thought that I was managing moderation well, but that’s because he wasn’t aware of my secret drinking during the week. I know he thinks I overthink it all, and that I should spend my time on other things, but until I properly embrace sobriety, those ‘other things’ get sucked into the drinking vortex anyway.
It is my fault: I hold my husband on the edge of truth, and without all the information, he can’t see clearly how much help I need. But I’m getting there, slowly telling him, trying not to frighten him (or myself) – though we need to be frightened.
So, the appointment with the counsellor is booked and paid for, and I’m going – but it’s not until next week, so I need to get through this week and the weekend, and it’s only day 2 today. At the moment, that feels possible, but the alcohol voice hasn’t started pounding yet, and I know it will.