I did it. I poured out the wine that I had set aside for tonight. I’m sitting on my couch and waiting for it to be late enough to go to bed. I’m good. I don’t want to go out and be in the drunkenness of whatever happens on this evening in my town, plus it’s cold and raining. I’m going to feel good tomorrow. Hopefully find a yoga class.
I have one more week of crazy busy work and I talked to my realtor and made an action plan and then I am out of here. At this point I don’t care if I have to do it by myself. (My brothers are not answering my phone calls, this time of year is hard on my family. We all have seasonal affective disorder- that’s my diagnosis anyway. )
Yay me! It felt good to pour the wine down the drain and it smelled terrible, I gagged. I need to feel well. Alcohol is the worst thing for my body that is trying to heal from being ravaged by the eating disorder and all the other abuse I have put it through over the years. I’m not bionic. I’m not invincible. My brain thinks I am.
Stay strong people. And I am going to need you to talk me off the ledge in a few days, weeks….