Thank goodness for the outlet of this blog today. I’ve been stewing over something for several weeks and really needed to stop, take a breath, and feel some emotions. I’ve put it off long enough, and tomorrow will be too late.
In the morning, I am traveling four hours to a special event involving one of my favorite clients. It’s going to be incredible. Like nothing I’ve ever seen before. I’ll be meeting some new people with whom I hope to work in the coming months. There are going to be incredible sculptures and fireworks. All great, right? Absolutely. Or not. The event is at a winery.
I am about to spend 12 hours at a winery.
A year ago, I would have been thrilled. An overnight trip without my husband and kids and a chance to relax with glass of wine, or 10. In fact, a year ago I would have found someone to take care of the kids for the weekend and made a little vacation out of this with my husband. Today I can’t even get excited about anything except the fact I might face slightly less snow there than here. I don’t know how to feel. In fact, I procrastinated booking my hotel until yesterday and ended up having to stay four times the distance from the event location. I was so disappointed, I treated myself to a room with a Jacuzzi tub. So, there’s that. But, a bubble bath simply begs for a glass of wine.
I know I won’t drink. I’m truly not worried about that. Gah, who am I kidding. I’m terrified. I’d be lying if I said I won’t be tempted. I’m going to be asked if I want a glass of wine. Repeatedly. I love wine. Really love it. A lot. Heck, just thinking about it all week has had me teetering on the edge of the cliff between solid sobriety and dopey drunkenness.
What bothers me more than anything is that I am not the kind of person who can visit a winery and enjoy myself. I’m ashamed. I hate that I let alcoholism get me. I saw it coming and I let it happen. This is the self-loathing that took me down the first time and it’s what sometimes makes me regret and even question my sobriety.
At a winery, I’m even more of an alcoholic than I am when I walk past the beer aisle at the grocery store. I have to focus on my sobriety and my recovery more than anything else, including the job I will be there to do. It stinks. I don’t want to go.
But, I do want to go. Truly. It is an opportunity for me to shine in my profession. It’s hours in the car by myself with music I want to hear. And, I get to sleep without my freight train of a sleep apnea suffering husband lying next to me. That’s something.
It would be easy to drink again. So easy. I’ve almost done it seven times since Monday. What stops me? The constant reminder that I am much better without alcohol. So very much better.
So, I’ll just keep doing my thing. I’m pouring a glass full of something stronger. Winery or bust – I’ve got this!