Into The Fire

Today finds me struggling. My favorite drinking place has been my boyfriend’s apartment for the past couple of years. For some reason , I felt safe binge drinking to oblivion for days at a time.

I stayed away for the first few months. I knew I couldn’t handle going there and staying sober. Even the smell reminds me of sickness and anxiety.

Last night I decided to take an early weekend at the boyfriend’s knowing that he wouldn’t drink while I was there. That’s our deal. We’d had a few sober weekends together. I struggled to convince him that we were still fun without booze.

I couldn’t have been more wrong. After two weeks of fighting, I decided that we needed to talk. I made the hour drive after telling him that I was too tired. He was drinking beer when I got there. He had gone and bought it after he thought I wasn’t coming. I was devastated. I wanted to turn around and go home but it was dark and I was exhausted.

The boyfriend said he would only drink two more but continued to drink 4- 25 ounce beers. He admitted that he knew he was wrong. Then later dared me to drink one. I explained that he should have dared me not to.

I resented not being able to drink. I wanted to feel the numbness of oblivion. I was a little pissy but realized after watching him suffer this morning that sobriety is so much better. I woke up refreshed and ready to go.

I’m pretty proud of myself for saying no. I didn’t like it, but I stuck by my guns.

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