I always have these fantasies of how I used to drink. I think I was glamorous and drank like a lady. But I have to remember that that was such a delusion. There was nothing glam about my drinking. It might have started with a glass of wine but I am sure the whole box went, especially if I didn't have to work the next day. I have to remember to go from my fantasy to reality.
|This is my fantasy!|
I have to run my fantasy all the way through:
So I sit on my porch with a glass of wine, I drink another. Starting to feel good but I want to feel better. So I pour another and yet another. If I haven't gotten more I would walk over to the store and get more. I would maybe try to eat but with the fear of slowing my buzz or not being able to continue at the pace that I was, I wouldn't eat much. My mind would wonder and be happy. Oh how great this life was, just me and my wine.
But then out of the blue I would find myself awake and it was the next day and the house was a wreck and my phone had strange messages on it and billion VM and all the wine was gone. And I looked like hell and my head was throbbing.
That was on a good night of drinking! I DON'T MISS THOSE DAYS! The thought that I lost chunks of time and had no idea what I did in that time, was just too much to bare. So most of the time I would just continue drinking. And this went on and on and on. I drove drunk in blackouts, I went to bars, I met strange people, I made random phone calls...
No. Not very glamorous at all!