A week ago today, I KNEW I had a drinking problem but just to make sure I tried to have a glass of wine last Wednesday. That glass turned into 6 or about a bottle and a half. I went to bed that night KNOWING something had to change and I had to quit.
I still haven't uttered the words "I" and "drinking problem" the same sentence, much less the dreaded "A-word" but I'm slowly heading toward acceptance. I have spent the past week on a journey to general wellness -- eliminating the mass amounts of caffeine, sugar, and of course, wine, that were flooding my body.
After a weekend in a surly mood, I told my husband that I am trying hard to get well. I didn't specifically say I was tackling my drinking but I told him I was working remove the toxins from my system and I listed alcohol among the collection. He nodded...nothing more. Not sure if that's his way of being silently supportive or if he really has not clue how deep I am in my problem. Right now, though, I don't care.
I never thought quitting could be so hard. The fog in my brain is just beginning to lift. I'm much less irritable than I have been over the past few days, but the urge for a drink is strong today. For no reason. No reason other than it sounds good.
I suppose that is another sign of having a problem...the inability to not think about drinking, to have it be all consuming. I don't like it.
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