When I was drinking, Tuesdays and Thursdays were always the hardest during the work week. Tuesday was the day that if I had overdone it over the weekend, I was done with my 2 day detox. If I hadn't overdone it, I was REALLY wanting to drink since I hadn't over the weekend (didn't happen that way too often). I would fight the devil, trying to tell myself I didn't need it, as the devil told me, “Go for it. You've gone so many days without it, don't you want it? You know you do.” Thursday were just too close to the weekend to wait.
I would leave work at 3pm, praying I could get a few beers in before dinner, while I prepared dinner, during dinner and after dinner. I would try to play it off. I would have two six packs, one that the family would see and then the other that would be added to "fill in." I would hide the empty bottles that I had finished before anyone knew I had started, and then start filling in the half gone 6 pack with bottles from the second one. I would begin making dinner 2 beers in, but thinking no one would know. After that I would "begin” my night of drinking.
I would have one or two before and during dinner. Then another one maybe after dinner. I may sneak down to the basement to chug one before everyone went to bed. By this time I would be on my way to being drunk and depressed so I would have some more. I would try to remember to sneak my empties out to the trash later since it was trash day on Wednesdays.
I would always tell myself it was okay since I didn't work all day on Wednesdays and I was out of the store half the day. Wednesday mornings always called for lots of coffee and praying I remembered to throw my bottles away. Panic would overcome me. Did I put any empties under the couch? Did I leave one sitting out that would be a sign to the family that I continued drinking after they went to bed?
Then the panic of who did I text and what did I say. Scanning my messages to see. Embarrassment and ashamed, I would text an apology. Praying I didn't fuck up a friendship or make a drunken call.
I was exhausted, mentally. Wednesday nights I would often go to beer school after work. Always worked out I had a driver so why not. Near the end of my drinking days, I got to where I prayed, no one could go, just so I could rest my liver. Of course, that didn't last long either because Thursday would come and, well, it's just about the weekend, why not celebrate. Let's just say it was a rerun of Tuesdays just this time I had to think more about how to hide the bottles and know when the trash was full again, so I could sneak them in it.
Those times were down right exhausting. It makes me sad to think of how much energy I spent to feed my addiction. Those who haven't experienced an addiction, pray you never do. Find help or put on the brakes if you find yourself putting so much thought and planning into getting your drunk on.
How many endless nights, ruined for a lover that didn't love me back. Thankfully, those who truly love me have stuck around. I'm even more thankful, I don't have to plan out an evening of drinking. I can just be exhausted from my day to day activities of sober living :)
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