Year One

Time away from the city was restful and lovely. I did not get to the Y to run. I did manage to keep my eating under control while I was away and didn't gain any weight while gone and have lost a pound and a half since coming back. Am looking forward to getting back to the gym, and particularly, to getting back to a regular yoga practice.

The regular yoga practice, in addition to being nicer to people, which usually comes along with the regular yoga practice for me, are my resolutions. I didn't have any more until this morning.

I got really drunk on New Year's Eve. Horribly, out of control, don't remember anything after a certain point drunk. I spewed all over the place when I got home. My husband, who does not drink, had to take care of me.

People get drunk on New Year's Eve all the time. Hell, the whole party thing is really about drinking, no?

Thing is, I got just about that drunk the day before we left to go away. I work in advertising. And there is a lot of drinking that goes on. If you've seen Mad Men before, it really is not all that far off the mark in that respect. The partners all have bars in their offices. My boss has one in his desk. There are bottles stashed all over the place. Most people go out to lunch and come back with the smell of liquor on their breath. On Friday, we started drinking sometime around noon. Bourbon. Rye. Whiskey. Scotch. I can just sort of remember leaving the office. I walked all the way downtown to the gym. Drunk. And I ran on the treadmill. Drunk. It is a miracle that I didn't hurt myself. I ran 3 miles. After the gym, I walked all the way back uptown to the last stop on my train line out of Manhattan and into Queens (The Husband looked it up, and all that walking was about 4.5 miles). I was still drunk. I was drunk when I got home. I was drunk when I went to bed. I hadn't even packed for the trip, which I had to do the next morning, with a horrid hangover.

And I got just about that drunk a few days before that, when a friend visited from out of town. We met for cocktails. I had two in a very short period of time. And then we went to dinner and I had wine. And I was roaring drunk.

I went to an art workshop in New Hampshire this summer. It was all in all a great week. But while there, I got so drunk one night that I was sick all the next day. As has often been the case in the last couple of years when I've tied one on, I woke up feeling an overwhelming sense of dread.

I have known for a while that I have a problem with alcohol, but every single time I would think about not drinking anymore, I'd get panicky. I'd start bargaining with myself. Well, you know, all those social situations. How can  you not drink?  I'd tell myself, well, you don't even drink every day. You don't even keep anything at home. You don't carry it around in your purse, for goodness sake. 

But this morning, I made the decision. And I don't feel the least bit of panic about it, this decision, this new resolution I've added. 

I am done. 

Done with the excuses. Done. Really and truly. Finally. And instead of panic, I actually feel relieved.

I am done with alcohol.