In my desire to document my sobriety, I am forcing myself to reflect on Day 70. However, I’m having difficulty putting my thoughts together. I’m struggling. Not in an urgent, can’t-go-another-hour-without-a-drink kind of way, but I am starting to see the pattern begin to repeat.
I’ve played this game before. In the ColecoVision Smurf game of life, I’m in the dark caves, jumping the stalagmites. The next landscape will show Gargamel’s castle in the distance. This, in my side-scrolling life, is alcohol on the horizon.
I will give in and have a drink either because I reach a point where I believe that I can drink without sliding into old habits, or because I give enough power to a stressor in my life to be the excuse to drink. Either way, it’s just an excuse to give in.
In the early days of sobriety, I was all-in. It’s typical for me to be eager to start a new process. I’m the queen of planning – I’ll rock a spreadsheet with agendas and targets like no one else. I’ll then immediately lose interest. Excitement turns to apathy and the spreadsheet gathers proverbial dust.
Up until last week, I was making healthy choices. I was excited to have a new process: regularly scheduled therapy, gym visits, blogging… I’m slowly sliding away from those choices. I have been eating terribly and I haven’t been to the gym in over a week. I just don’t care enough to do either. When I’m doing well, I want to eat healthy and I want the energy I get from going to the gym. In depression, I can’t imagine doing positive things.
That’s where I’m at on Day 70.