A Cat to My Right.
I’m in a bit of a fog due to new prescriptions, while simultaneously navigating some uncomfortable anxiety connected to wanting a beer or glass of wine while my babes are napping. The cat to my right is just chilling out, completely unaware of the mind-battle going on inside of me right now.
I wish I was the cat. … At least for just a moment.
This afternoon time is time I’ve always considered as mine, and would easily lose my cool if one or both of my babes wouldn’t sleep on a given day. I love the quiet of the house, I love the fact they’re both recharging themselves for more adventures, and I love that I get to be still and focus on my book, or TV show, or FBland during my adult, my Me-Time. And, often (85% of the time), it would include a beer or a glass of wine. Just because I could. And I would justify it by saying to myself, ‘Well, people have beer with a weekend lunch all the time!’ Granted, I had already eaten my lunch, but would delay the bevvy-o’-choice until nap time due to said beautiful children.
Even writing that paragraph makes me cringe. And the fact that I am having a difficult time with this moment right here and now makes me cringe. How could I have struggled not seeing my habits and patterns for so long? Planning my drinking around my children’s afternoon naps? Putting my kids’ safety, comfort, and well-being in the balance, I feel disgusted with myself, and especially with my alcoholism. Talk about a monster… Me, I mean.
Writing (when I really, really, really did not want to) has helped the anxiety lessen a bit. I will not drink. I will not reach for, nor pour myself a drink. Instead, I am going to pet the cat, and wait for my babes to come out and cuddle with me. I think it sounds like a much better plan.
Day 5 is alive.