Day Two

Y'all did notice that I started counting sobriety hours from the time of my last drink, not the time I decided to quit, right? That's something like 13 hours difference. Thanks for letting me get away with that. Hee.

But either way, today is Day Two. I'm okay at the moment. Slept badly; no surprise there. My body has been accustomed to going to sleep buzzed for a very long time, after all. And I think I overdid the caffeine yesterday as well.

Yesterday was so cathartic and frightening and hopeful all at once that I feel I rode the day out in an altered state of sorts, albeit not a chemical one. It's going to get harder as I try to construct something resembling a regular life. Right now, for example, I feel my anxiety starting to creep up even though it's only 10:30 in the morning. There's no particular reason beyond trying to work a bit and acknowledging that I have bills and financial junk I haven't been dealing with properly. It just sort of is what it is.

So, anxious. That's okay. I can feel that. It isn't me; it's just a feeling that I feel at the moment. It will subside. If it doesn't subside soon I'll do some housework, which I learned during my attempts to "cut back" can be a helpful distraction. The dog likes to help me carry out the recycling, for example, and in a heavy-drinking household there's always plenty of recycling.

Speaking of which, A is pretty freaked out by my embracing of sobriety. [Insert the stuff you'd expect to read at this point about how he's probably threatened by it, blah blah blah.] I feel rather disgruntled by the lack of support. He still says I should do what I think is right--yay him--but he has no interest in, say, not drinking in front of me. Even on Day One. Kind of a pisser, that. But I guess that expecting him to back me up on this would be a trifle unrealistic, all things considered. Not unreasonable, but unrealistic.

I had to reach a point, to even start this process, at which I am willing to do absolutely whatever is necessary to gain and protect my sobriety. I got there yesterday. I'm still there today.

Not at all long ago I tagged a post about the possibility of losing A as "scariest." Today I'm redefining the scariest thing. It's not losing him or being alone. It's drinking again.