Letters to a fellow sober-ess.

Through the amazing interwebz (more specifically, the blogsphere) I came across a young lady who is also new to sobriety. She prefers to remain anonymous so this is where my love for baby names comes in: I will name her Georgia. The following in an excerpt from an email I sent to Georgia in regards to my Saturday evening.* What did I do on Saturday? Oh, thank you for asking!

My husband is in a cover band (and an original band. i know it makes for conversation confusion. “wait, which band?”) They had a gig in his hometown at a wine bar. Let me repeat this for emphasis. A wine bar. Looking back, it was an okay time. How did I feel about it last night? I wanted to rip my insides out. Here is the letter, complete with omissions for a bit of anonymity on my part.

The funny thing is…I didn’t want a drink. When I first walked in and saw those beautiful, giant wine glasses filled with red, I longed for one briefly. It passed very, very quickly. For me the hard part was dealing with drunk people parents while sober. My anxiety is soaring after giving up the Paxil that I was on since November. My ‘bottom’ involves (AnyTown) and (a group of people). It seemed as if ALL of them were there.  It was too much of that, too soon. That was on Halloween and this was the first time I have been out in that town since.

So, I guess I can say I am proud that I didn’t want a drink. Staring at those drunk people gives me a glimpse of what I once looked like…and well if I never look or act like that again, I will be very, very content.

I really enjoy your latest posts. Read them all. Though, I think it shows me that really working the program isn’t for me. 90% of everyone I know drinks. I could never, ever leave them behind. I need them now. They’re not holding me back or bringing me down. My battle with sobriety seems to be somewhere inside of me. My terrible, terrible nights have all occurred at home, when I was alone. Left by myself with my thoughts and insecurities? The only time I want to get totally, fall down drunk is when I’m alone.

It appears we’re on two alternate paths to sobriety, but I enjoy having you just across the way…

*Dear Georgia, I hope this doesn’t cheapen our lovely, sober, email romance. I’ll call you. I promise ; )