Fail!
Ah well. I made it 21 days. A fight with someone I love and the violent depression that ensued drove me down to the bar, where I tore it up. I luckily had good friends there, and they saw me through, listened to me whine and got me home safe. Today, I am ashamed I did not make it the length of time I’d hoped, but I truly think I did what I needed to do. A night tossing back liquor with a someone who listened to me kvetch seems to have done the trick – I care less, I feel better, and I would never have gotten it all out if I weren’t drinking. I just don’t exercise my feelings completely without a few drinks in me.
I also don’t care about drinking any more for a while, so it’s not like I’m on a bender. I got drunk and it did the job. It’s good to know I can still do it if I want to, and it doesn’t mean I will go back to drinking every other day. Hell, if I can keep it to once a month, I’m pretty damn happy with that – but I think I truly see the other side. I don’t feel like I will ever need to drink again. If I do, I will. I don’t think it’s going to be a problem. Life is much more fun without it, it’s damn gay as hell, but true!
