That is my state today.
I cannot seem to find a solid place to put my feet. I am growly and irritable, sad, then sweet and loving, and laughing the next. I am a nutcase. One-hundred percent.
My run was off. My breathing was horrible. The air was humid and it felt like I was swimming my way down the street under a hot sun. Yuck.
I was cranky with my sweet babes. Snippy with the hubs. And overall just ‘meh’ inside my head.
I’m missing the drink. I love the word moderation and hate it more. I am mourning summer nights in the backyard with friends and beer, and evenings on the driveway with friends and wine. The brilliant part of me knows those moments can still happen without the booze, but I am sad about the drinky today. And I am mad at myself that I’m sad.
Moments have been good, too. Spent much of the day with only our boyo today, as his sister went to her first professional baseball game with her gram. It was sweet to spend time just with him. He lit up like a Christmas tree and talked our ears off the whole time. (His older sister usually does most of the talking.) … During naps the hubs and I actually broached the conversation of sobriety. … Finally. After almost 2 weeks. It was nice to start the process, but I know we have more emotional places to dig into, and thoughts to share. Que sera. (Is that how you spell that?)
And I am gobbling up sober blogs for the life of me in part, to keep my grumpy-ass self from getting off this train. I am reading everyone’s words and writing comments like a woman possessed, because I am feeling rather isolated in my RealWorld-life. Had thought I might try an AA meeting this am, but it wasn’t in the cards schedule-wise. May try a meeting some time this week, since I am having some steering troubles on this little Radio Flyer I’m on. (Sorry to mix the metaphors, fellow English majors, out there.)
Good things? I’m sober. I’m writing. And now? I’m going to make dinner…. Curry. Yumbo!
Day 13, fuck you. I’m going to make it.