Yesterday, Haplesshomsteader suggested I put my head down and plod on. It’s good advice, as I am apt to look ahead, panic, and drink. I used to scoff at the minute at a time mantra, but I am finding it really helpful at the moment.
I found it physically painful last night getting through the witching hour. I can almost feel the old alcohol coursing through me from last year, intent on seeping into my very bones, and as my body gets rid of it, it looks for more. I need to get past that awful feeling of needing alcohol in order to feel ok. I got past this last night, watched part of the film and then went to bed, but not before I had begged my husband to give up Dry January with me etc etc etc. He is quiet and calm, and just says no.
I slept the sleep of a madwoman, getting up several times because I had such weird nightmares. At one point, I was convinced I had lost the ability to see, or more accurately that my vision had somehow split in two – everything was blurred. I woke in the morning, grateful that I seemed to be alright.
It is not easy. Of course it is not. I am plodding on, though. Plodding on.