I realized a cycle I’m in last night when I was already feeling emotional (children being at their Dad’s an extra night, reading the Sunday obits, watching Call The Midwife, contemplating my own mortality and how my drinking habits may have accelerated it, the whole city feeling generally on edge about the Chauvin verdict….)
The cycle: Drink too much, feel awful, decide to quit for a long period of time, then the decision to quit is almost an admittance of how bad the problem was in the first place, which I don’t want to accept, so after a few days when I’m feeling fine I decide I can moderate, because then I don’t have a problem, right? But I know I do and have for a long time and when I really reflect on it am terrified of how it may have impacted my health.
This week is bringing flashbacks to the end of last May when riots over George Floyd’s death erupted in our city. Our neighborhood is a few miles from where things were the worst, but I have friends who live near the police station that was burned down and had to flee, or stayed up all night protecting their streets. I have many more friends who live blocks from the police station in our neighborhood, which was heavily barricaded, and which my ex-husband was working out of. He was a cop at the time and was in the middle of it all, and it was terrifying. Yes he’s my ex but he’s also the beloved father of my children.
Of course I drank my way through that and I know it made the anxiety so much worse, but it was also the only way I knew to relieve the anxiety, glued to the news and waiting to hear he had made it home safe. Thankfully he is not a cop anymore.
But there are National Guard troops stationed a mile from our house. Someone shot at them in a drive by over the weekend (different neighborhood, but still…) Schools have been cancelled this week. The mood is ominous. I am going to workout with my Mom’s group and try not to drink, at least for tonight.