This would have been the day that I got sober…but it never was.
I would have been telling myself that I was going to quit drinking after St. Patrick’s Day weekend for at least a week building up to it. On each trip to the liquor store, I would tell myself it was okay because I would quit soon…quit for good.
I probably (definitely) would have gone extra hard this last weekend because I was never drinking again. I would tell myself I was having a last blast—a final hurrah—the last send-off. So, it was acceptable to drink more than usual because, after all, I was going sober.
I would spend all day today nursing a nasty hangover. I would probably make an extra trip to the convenience store to grab some munchies to calm my stomach on the way to work or the first break. I’d probably have to smoke an extra cigarette or two before going into the office because I was worried I still smelled like liquor.
I would tell myself in my head over and over that I was staying sober tonight and that I was never drinking again. This was usually easy until at least lunchtime, mainly because the hangover was a steady reminder of what I had done to myself the night before. Plus, I promised myself that I was done drinking, and I didn’t want to let myself down for the umpteenth time.
As quitting time approached, it would become more and more challenging to maintain the notion that I was going to stay sober that night. On a perfect day, I would make it home, but after a few hours, I would come up with an excuse to sneak off to buy cigarettes or fuel and, of course, buy some alcohol while I was out. I would cave in and buy it at the liquor store closest to work on a typical day.
Maybe I should take a moment to clear the air; it wasn’t just the Monday following St. Patrick's Day that I used as a day to get sober. It was every Monday following a holiday—actually, every Monday whether there was a holiday or not. And some weeks, it was every dang day.
Willpower is a funny thing. It’s like a cell phone battery: the more we use it, the quicker it goes. Oh, and it needs to be charged each night. So, the more I focused on quitting, the easier it became to give in and stop by the liquor store on the way home from work. It’s also a shared resource, so a difficult day at work marked with a lot of focus or difficult decisions made it even EASIER to decide to give in and drink that night.
Does it feel like I am telling your story instead of mine?
Are you as tired of it being your story as I once was? Let’s change that.
A professional customer service representative( 7years experience ) currently a social work student Wholesale and retail Owner at Olivette' Beauty Enterprise building my own business. Love to travel. Love seeing nature
8moWriting and reading ✌️