to regain control, which I seem to have lost, over my behavior. I drink too much. when the day ends, I cannot think of anything else to do, so I drink. and then I keep going. past the point of a nice buzz. past the half way mark on the bottle of wine. sometimes down to the bottom. and I totter around the house in blissful abandon. raving perhaps. definitely self indulgent. so far not enough to get sick. small consolation that. and reciting to myself that line from Frank Sinatra: “I feel sorry for people who drink because when they wake up in the morning that’s as good as they’re going to feel all day!” ha ha ha. and then I wonder if my ex was right all along: that I am the one with the drinking problem. so I vow to drink nothing–or at least less–tonight. and as the day wears on I begin to think that a drink at the end of it would not be the worst thing. in fact, just one drink would be so nice. smooth the edges off, slip away from the churning worry, drift into oblivion. until 5–or if I’m lucky 6–hours later I wake to start all over again.

I didn’t cause it; I can’t control it; I can’t cure it. (Al-Anon) | The Big Book (AA)

Today’s girls need courage, confidence, and character. | The Blue Book (Girl Scouts)