One Sober Morning

     

    Yesterday was my first day sober in months.

    Believe it or not- I didn't fight some seemingly-impossible internal battle with my demons last night to not crack open a drink. Firstly, there wasn't anything in my refrigerator besides M's horrifically sugary "hard lemonade"-which I didn't bat an eyelid at oddly enough. I ate dinner, took melatonin, then snuggled in our bed after re-arranging our bedroom a bit. It also probably helped that our bedroom is actually turning into a room I enjoy and thus doesn't cause anxiety (in other words, a strong urge to guzzle booze). 

    I've been little by little working at our bedroom in order for it to become more aesthetically pleasing and cozy- it's such a small space so I've been trying to create the "illusion" of more space. It is a task, only truly a task that would be made more possible if we demolished the entire back end of our house and hired a construction crew to add on more space. 

    I spend a lot of spare time googling "apartment living hacks" and "how to make your small bedroom seem larger." The tips are kind of working I must say. Even though they're draining my savings. Last night we placed a new patterned white rug I bought- which really brightened the space up and made it cozier- so I'd say that's another definite win.

    I slept in this morning and when I heard Sweet One stirring in her crib I scooped her up, changed her diaper and then piled her in our bed with us. I even happily obliged her requests of "bubble! bubble!" and turned on her beloved Bubble Guppies (please God don't take that as a green light on allowing that theme song to reverberate within each of my days off for another year). 

    Back to day one- of course I didn't feel miraculously different this morning. I was still tired, still lounging in various places and positions throughout the house (all of them horizontal) while Sweet One scurried around picking up objects and putting them in extremely inconvenient places. Places where they will inevitably end up under the sensitive foot of a grown-up. I didn't even bother picking one toy up when I kicked it by accident walking to the kitchen, sending it skidding across the wood floor to another inconvenient location.

    But I wasn't miserable. 

    I wasn't internally beating the shit out of myself for feeling a lingering almost-hangover. Yes I feel sleepy but most mom's who work forty-plus hours a week on their first day off in five days inevitably do. That's normal. What's not normal is waking up four times within a night- getting hardly ANY sleep and then spending the whole morning feeling sleepy, lethargic and like the edges of my vision are crackling and whirring like there's a chunk of my brain that has been melted into molten lava. My heart wasn't racing with unexplained anxiety. I didn't feel this inexplainable, heavy and painful guilt when I looked into Sweet One's happy energetic eyes. I didn't stay up late commenting witty but mildly offensive comments on the dreaded facebook until 1:00 AM. I didn't wake up thinking "what the fuck was I thinking" looking at my social media.

    And it might be just me, but I think I looked more attractive this morning than I usually do in the mornings. And my breath feels cleaner. I still have yet to brush my teeth though.. It's my Saturday. I'll give myself a break.

    Warmest regards,

    Your one day sober NLD