As I started to write, a text popped up – from the counsellor, replying to my confirmation that I’d like to see him tomorrow. His reaching out to me last week, keeping the appointment slot open when part of me wanted to turn away and ignore it, is helping me to push through to tomorrow.
So, day one again today. As I lay in bed this morning – it’s a Bank Holiday here in the UK today; raining – my eldest daughter came in and stroked my forehead. My drinking is preventing me from being the mother I need to be. Hour by hour, minute by minute, I am going to get out of this place of despair.