The Space Between Wanting and Drinking

It’s been a nice day off. I still crammed in my 444mg of caffeine before 4pm so I’ve been jittery. I got to sleep in though… I rescheduled my scary appointment for August because I let my anxious thoughts get the best of me and I wanted to relax. It’s been a busy month and the future looks even busier. Next weekend, I’m leaving for a camping trip on Sunday, then the following Sunday is the Father’s Beer & Wine Festival at work, then the following Sunday, I’m hosting my besties at my work for a Tour of the vineyard and a tasting of the wine. Thinking about it now, I might be pressured to A. drink wine during the tour or B. tell everyone in the party that I’m in recovery, which includes the tour guide which will then spread to the rest of the staff and then everyone is going to wonder why the hell I work at a vineyard if I don’t drink. I don’t know, I needed a job and I’m good at bullshitting a table. Apparently I’m really good at it, my sales are really competitive. Anyway! I was just thinking ahead.

I tried to buy some alcohol free Brut today since I really enjoyed it a couple of weeks ago but when they carded me (like they did the last time) it dawned on me that even though it’s alcohol free, there’s still a tiny bit of alcohol in it so now I can’t even have the Brut that I really liked it. It makes me want to just drink wine, nothing else. No spirits, no beer. Just wine and sake. I can’t get drunk like I would on whiskey and I don’t want to be like that. What I want is to be able to have a nice glass of wine after a rough day, to get those warm, bubbly feelings again without going overboard. I’m just having a mega craving today and am trying to bargain with myself. I want to be able to enjoy the wine that I’m forced to try. Not forced to try but I want to try it. You try getting a job in a place where they serve your drug of choice and talk about its complexity and romanticize and celebrate it, then ask you to try it and are offered free drugs at the end of your shift… it’s rough on a person and I really wanted that fucking Brut too.

It’s been a rough day, live-blogging my craving above. The fresh air, mixed with rain, mixed with my mom’s fried chicken… those smells make me happy. I have to absorb those feelings while I can. While she’s still alive and I’m still in the Pacific Northwest. Those smells remind me of when I first got here. I was such a broken human. Then two years later, broken again by Mark. I wish I could be a stronger person. More thick skinned and able to proudly show people exactly how to treat me. Once Viv gets in bed and I’m on the couch with some of Mom’s fried chicken and Grandma’s cucumber salad recipe and a show is on, I’ll be okay. I don’t currently have a show, new or comfort, to lean into as background noise. I’m starting to analyze why I’m constantly trying to drown out my thoughts with streaming services or music. I hate being alone with my thoughts and I’ll probably need legit therapy rather than advice from artificial intelligence.