Bottles and Bottled

I am not nor would I ever call myself an alcoholic. I have, and I suppose always will be someone who had a problem with alcohol. I didn’t necessarily drink to excess, I drank at the wrong times. When I was highly emotional and hurting, I turned to it and partying to get my mind off of my pain.
I was speaking with a friend about a her relationship and she was frustrated and said “ugh, I need a drink!” I felt a twinge. As I often do when I, or others say that phrase and I said to her “NO! No emotional drinking!” It foreshadowed a conversation I later had with two other friends about decisions. You make a decision, everyday and every time something triggers you. I make a decision every.single.time. I’m hurting not to drink until I feel better. Deeds worries about me. I beg him not to, but he loves me so he always will. I used to worry about me. Now…I know pretty well how to silence the want. How to talk myself through the destruction. I’ve only slipped up once in 2 years. The night of Thanksgiving.
I think that more than the desire to be better, I appreciate the fact that I can’t escape pain. I deal. I’m not so bottled…to that do I thank words or sobriety?


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