Seven months of continuous sobriety is pretty cool. Probably haven’t been here ever in my adult life. (Even in my pregnancies I drank a little.)
As you may have noticed, I’ve been in a bit of a funk lately. Not sure why, but I’m starting to suspect it’s an issue with my medication. I take an SSRI for PMS issues and have recently been much more diligent about taking it every day (instead of about every other day), so it’s been building up in my system. Resulting in some unexplained anxiety and generally wonky feelings.
Anytime I feel this way, my first tendency is to look around for the thing that’s upsetting me so that I can put it right, fix it, or chuck it. And these days the most obvious change in my life is, of course, the banishment of the wine. So my brain goes there, and right away a slew of negative thoughts about the teetotaling situation come streaming in. It makes sense, even though it doesn’t really make sense. Know what I mean?
Well, I’m not about to chuck seven months of sobriety over a little anxiety, that’s for sure. Especially anxiety caused by a medication that’s supposed to help my mental state (and usually does).
So onward we go.
And tomorrow I leave with my darling daughter for what is sure to be a lovely time, just the two of us, in Chicago. If anyone has the gall to offer me wine on this trip, my sweet girl is sure to say, “my mom is a sober woman!” Or something along those lines. She is hilarious. And I’m so lucky to have her in my life.
Happy Sober Tuesday,