I woke up this morning in a panic that I had slipped.
“Omg, how much did I drink last night and what did I do??”
Then it hit me. It was all a dream.
These sort of dreams occur once every few months or so, refuelling my desire to stay on the path … even those nights where I just want to tune out the world, uncork a chilled chardonnay, isolate and scream “Eff it.”
Do I miss drinking? Oh Hell yes. I LOVED my wine and Caesars — sometimes a craft beer or dirty vodka martini. I was also a lot of fun to drink with.
Could I moderate? Maybe. I’ve tried it countless times in the past and it’s doable, but bloody exhausting. I like to compare it to having just one potato chip when you’re feeling ravenous and leaving the rest in the bag.
Just this past week I’ve had two women from opposite sides of the country reach out and share their struggles. They are regular moms like you and me who got caught up in the whole ‘mom needs her mommy juice’ lifestyle. Like myself, they had a lot of fun…until one day it wasn’t.
Let’s face it ladies, there is so much shame and stigma that prevents women from reaching out, which is ironic considering we live in a society that also tells us it’s “cute” for moms to need to overindulge to survive parenthood. You’ve seen the memes.
We are taught to believe that unless we lose our jobs, families or driver’s licenses that we are fine. What about losing ourselves? Our dignity and self respect? What if it terrifies you that you wait for the clock to strike 5pm every single day so you can find some relief from the anxious thoughts that plagued you all day?
What if 5pm becomes 4pm… Been there too.
Deep down you know that time will keep getting earlier. Do you dare chance it?
If you’re just following along on my blog now, let me introduce myself. My name is Kristyl, and I am 2.5 years alcohol-free.
I blog about my life here in ‘The Valley’ — the good, the bad and what some may consider, “the shameful.”