It started on Thursday. Colleagues at work asking what treat was in store for me this Sunday. I answered I didn’t know and the conversation moved on.
Until I was lying in the bath that night and the voice in my head piped up. Those premeditated resentments started to form and it went something like this “well birthday’s used to be a big deal because you could celebrate with a drink and Christmas isn’t what it used to be now that you don’t drink. And newly sober you must be a better parent so the day that should really be celebrated is now Mother’s Day. And if they don’t spoil me rotten that day then why did I bother giving up drink and that would be a really bloody good reason to drink, to reward yourself for being such a good parent if they can’t be bothered” harumph Uh oh, then I realised wolfie was there dressed like grandma in the little red riding hood story lurking under the bedclothes in disguise ready to gobble me up!
In my drinking days I would have nursed these expectations over the following days and when the day failed to match the picture I had built up in my head I would have sulked, probably picked an argument and drank – justifying it with I’m feeling sorry for myself so I’m going to drink more. This time I outed myself – first to Mr HOF (who made noises that suggested he understood my warped logic) and now to you (although I don’t feel very proud of admitting this line of thinking).
I’m going to write some posts soon about relapse and warning signs as to me this was a big flashing neon warning sign of a relapse in the making. Maybe with six months under my belt I have become complacent, bored, frustrated and am maybe having a few post 6 month sober-versary blues. The memories of drinking don’t seem quite so hideous as they used to either and this rattles me. I can feel wolfie’s breath down my neck again in a way that I haven’t done for a while. Maybe I need to treat myself today irrespective of what my family do? 😉