Movie Night

Four months.  I cannot believe it has been (almost) four months since a drop of alcohol has entered this body.  (Well, technically, I have had the wine at church...and it was delicious.)  I haven't written on this blog in a while...can't really say why - my life being so full of excitement and intrigue...but it feels really good when I do write, so I am going to try to start again.  It will be nice to have a look back years from now.  Whether or not that will be a hazy, half-remembered peek is yet to be determined, but so far so good.  As my friends in the 6:30 AA group tell me, I am right where I am supposed to be.  I wish I could figure out where that was, exactly, but good to know I'm there.  I actually go days without wanting to drink, maybe a whole day without thinking about it.  And when I do think about alcohol, it is mostly a fleeting thought - not something I dwell on like I did before.  Some days are easier, but I think that goes with anything.  I feel like I hit another milestone though, I have been going to the movies at night and not thinking of drinking.  AMAZING.  I go to the movies, sit through the whole movie (laugh, cry, eat a shit-ton of popcorn) and don't think about the fact that I am not drinking at all.  Crazy good stuff. 

Movie night was a huge night for me to drink.  Food and wine before the movies, and then I would just bring mini-bottles in my purse, slamming them in the bathroom stall (I was all class baby).  I don't remember a lot of most movies we went to, and I actually passed out in a few.  I think the last one I woke up to the credits was Thor, but everything around that time is a bit...hazy.  My very last drink was at the movies.  I think we went to see The Grey (again, haze) and I was in the doghouse.  I was supposed to not be drinking, ever.  I was going to AA, I really wanted to not drink, but I just couldn't do it.  I tried REALLY hard.  I tore myself up - my mother and sister had threatened (as kindly as one could, God bless 'em) my children.  I don't know this for sure, but I think my better half was beginning to resign himself to hopelessness.  I was throwing up bright yellow vomit almost every day.  I didn't want to drink more than I had ever wanted anything in my entire life.  I was so drunk the day before we went that I couldn't even hide it from anyone - I had started this particular binge by showing up at Costco to meet my sister reeking of alcohol at 11 am.  Basically, a train wreck.  My husband was somehow able stand me (he must have known how miserable I was, that is the only way I can see how he could have) long enough for us to go to the show for Valentine's Day - and we were at the mall.  He went into Bass Pro to look around before the movie, and I went to straight to the bar.  Slammed three glasses of pinot grigio in about fifteen minutes, then met him at the theater.  Those were my last glasses of wine.  The sad thing is (anyone who is familiar with the term "maintenance drinking" will get this) they didn't even get me buzzed.  They basically stopped the horrible feeling of dread in the pit of my stomach long enough for me to watch the movie.  I really liked that movie up until the end, by the way.  The next day was the day I fell to my knees.  February 14, 2012.  I did the hell out of my step one and have been trucking on ever since.