relapse into reason.

150 days sober down the toilet.
no.
i don't want to look at it this way.
i want to learn my lesson and move on.
the rundown:  sunday: terri is getting ready for two days away on business in nyc.  elsie is going to stay at her nana's a couple of towns over, so i can work and come home un interrupted.
terri and i get in a row about something.  i've been really pushing at her since new year's day.  basically i am on my high horse and need to get knocked off.  the whole mess ended with her telling me that she didn't care about me anymore or what i did.
nana comes to pick up elsie on monday.  i already know that i'm not going to work.  sweet: a full day or two to my self with no obligations.
i go to the supermarket and it hits me.  i rent a movie and i already feel my self sliding into my old 'who gives a crap' mode and the next thing you know i'm in a liquor store buying a pint of Stolichnaya vodka and a six pack of Newcastle.
i hid it really well in our reusable bag and crept up the stairs so that the bottles wouldn't clang together and my tenants wouldn't hear.
it was a beautiful afternoon.  i could have taken the dog for a walk, but instead i set a land speed record by drinking four beers and almost the full pint of vodka in about three hours.
i watched a movie and then a bit of another and then blacked out.
two hours? three hours passed...maybe?
i woke up and immediately wretched the booze and the one slice of pizza i ate before i drank.
i then drank some seltzer and  went out to purchase bad fast food.  gorged myself on that, poured the rest of the vodka out and had enough.
o.k. i can't drink.  but then even a seasoned drinker would've gotten sick.  it didn't even feel good to feel wasted anymore.  it felt wrong and it hurt.
i spent the rest of the night and most of the next day in bed.  i must've gotten sick three or four more times.
before you feel any shame or 'bad' for me: don't.
i did this to my self.  i chose not to work. i chose not to use my resources to deter drinking and i was the one who bought and drank the stuff.
here were the triggers:  having the one person in the world you love more than anything and feel like a king to be with tell you that you don't matter, kills your drive.
even if i pushed her to say this, i decided 'fuck it' and if she didn't care then i wouldn't.
the lesson:
1)  i obviously can't drink anymore.  or even think i can.  it just isn't in my realm of reality.
2)  my actions and deeds are very important and i need to think about what i do and say to others. i need to be more responsible for how i present my self and how i want to be seen.
3)  i need to let go of this preconceived notion that i am somewhat better than everyone else because i don't drink.  everything isn't just going to fall into place because i put the bottle down.
4)  i need a hobby.
so there it is.   i learned my lesson and i don't care about counting days or any of that anymore.  i care about trying.  that is all.  i fell.  i scraped myself off and am on my own two feet.  i am going back to therapy and am looking forward to keeping my chin up, being proud of my work  and most importantly of my family.
because the trade off of three hours of drunk versus two plus days of recovering is just not worth it.