After telling myself over a year ago that I would never get behind the wheel of a vehicle when I was black out drunk, I got behind the wheel of a vehicle last night, and drove over 60 miles.
So that’s it. I’m done drinking. For good.
“at least nothing bad happened to you last night”
That was one response I got after I sent out a shame spiraling text about my stupidity.
You know what I don’t want to see? When I’m not so lucky and that everything bad could happen.
I’d like to ride my luck out in other places and drinking at this point just doesn’t do it for me anymore. I do it to try and bring myself down to a point where I think I need to be to interact with people and guess what? Totally crass and arrogant, but I’m too good for most of the people I associate with and the fact that I think I need to drink just shows how flawed my logic is to think that I need to belong around these people. As a bartender I handle enough sad sacks and sob stories and people trying to run away from their problems and fit in because they think they don’t belong until the booze kicks in. I don’t need to be one of those people. Those people drive me absolutely insane; they’re the ones I tell stories about to justify drinking.
I most certainly don’t need to be in the situation where old acquaintances are sitting around a bar after reuniting twenty years in the future and the topic of “remember this person” comes up and they get to me and go “Remember Posso? Too bad that happened.”
Nothing bad happened last night, but it could have. There’s no reason to have that option.
Good bye whiskey. We had fun. Many stories; good, bad, embarrassing, and shame filled.
I just can’t afford to keep telling myself “at least nothing bad happened.” That’s setting yourself up for the bad thing to happen. After everything I’ve gone through, the last thing I want to do is rot away in a jail cell.