I Don't Miss Mental Load of Drinking Alcohol
The haunted house opens at 6 tonight. Do you realize what a challenging time that would have been a few years ago?
Do I start my drinking before… or try to hold off til after; miserable and tugging my family to head home any chance I get?
Or maybe I’d add some wine to my tumbler. No harm in that. I’m not driving, after all.
But what if my husband wants me to drive? Or what if my kids gets thirsty and reach for my drink?
Or perhaps saddest of all… opt out altogether. Excuse myself with a headache. Or say I need some ‘me time,’ which in its own right is a worthy cause, but self care doesn’t look like drinking alone to oblivion. Wondering if I’ll remember them returning home. Fearful they will come home to notice my slur or stagger.
So many questions, so much anxiety. So much energy in the how’s, the when’s and the where’s.
And so much fear in the “what if.”
I don’t miss all that wasted energy I put into the logistics of how I would responsibly overdrink every night.
I don’t miss the fear of being caught, called out, or questioned.
And I don’t miss the FOMO of always wishing the evening would speed up or slow down to accommodate my drinking agenda.
I only miss the time lost along the way. Time I will never get back. Time focused on obsessing over my next drink. And that’s not how I want to live.
The haunted house starts at 6. And I can’t think of a more perfect time.