….or not to drink? But the demons don’t care.

I wrote the majority of this post last night. And every word I said is true and honest. But, perhaps more honestly, it can be boiled down into fewer, simpler words.

I tried to drink less. And I failed. And that makes me feel like even more of a worthless, failure of a human being than I ever thought possible. Which makes me want to drink more.

Here we go.

7:52pm – I’m just a few sips into my first drink of the evening. I’ve been having a lot of thoughts lately, and am feeling particularly vulnerable. Sometimes, I need to write exactly when and how I feel it. Not wait until later, not sit with it…just…do.

Having the flu these past 7 days has been brutal. For me, in particular. Most of my family came down with it, but they were all QUITE mild cases compared to my week long ass kicking.

And while a lot of things have been more or less the same…I’ve noticed one really, really huge difference.

I did not take any days off from drinking, even on my worst days of flu hell. Why? Well, because withdrawals. That’s where I am in life. I’ve been there before, they scare me, and I certainly didn’t want to feel sicker by not drinking.

On the first night, I asked my husband if he would get me a glass. He at first said no, but rather immediately shifted his response to “well, I guess I have to”. Followed by one of the more innocently fucked up things he’s ever said to me….

“You don’t have to drink a whole bunch, you know. Just enough not to go into withdrawals.”

My husband and I do not talk about my drinking. Ever. Rarely, if I bring it up, sure. But for him to make a comment like that? I don’t know. It felt…telling. Or, real.

There were a few subtle, non offensive, but direct, comments like that.

No one can make me stop drinking. There’s not a comment, a feeling, an action…there’s nothing anyone can do to make me stop.

It has to come from me. It HAS to be my decision.

Yes, other people can act and feel and say things, and that may on some level influence how I’m feeling, and therefore how I act.

My husband making those small, innocent enough comments…I don’t know. Maybe it spoke to my brain in a different way. Maybe it felt like he actually cared, and for once, was paying attention.

Over the past week, most nights, I’ve had around half, or less, of what I usually have to drink. Paired it with a NyQuil on the really rough nights (the flu, remember?), and called it a day.

On Monday night, after therapy, I was feeling particularly good. Both my mental status and my flu status. I had the same lesser amount to drink, no NyQuil because I didn’t feel sick at all, and….well, it didn’t go well.

It took me 2 hours to fall asleep. When I did fall asleep, I woke up again at 2am. And that was it.

On the one night I drank less and didn’t take any medicine to assist with sleep, I got a total of 3 hours.

It was miserable.

There were other nights similar to that this past week as well.

My chronic insomnia, horrific nightmares and CPTSD are THE reasons I started drinking at the lovely age of 15.

Sleep.

I’m in a really weird place right now. A place where…I’m still dealing with the physical repercussions of the flu. And I don’t feel up to drinking as much as I usually do. Maybe I even want to drink less.

But even if I want to. Even if the motivation and the desire is there…if it’s the choice between drinking or not sleeping?

I’m going to choose drinking. Alcohol wins the battle over insomnia.

The demons don’t care where I’m trying to go, or what I’m trying to achieve.

My demons want to hold me back. They want to define me by my weaknesses.

There is a tiny, minuscule, FLEETING window here, where for the first time in…ever?!?!? I’m willing to quietly attempt drinking less.

Except that I can’t. Because then the things that I’m medicating are no longer being medicated.

And then what?

And then what.

This window is small. And it might even be a lie. A product of being as sick as I’ve been.

Still, it would’ve been nice to…I don’t know. At least have the option.

Because right now now, the only other option I see is to just get myself addicted to something else. And that literally doesn’t solve anything at all.