I had a dream the other night. Not a Martin Luther King type of dream, rather one that scared me a bit.
I dreamed that I fell off the wagon, that after all this time and hard work, I dreamt that I just gave in and had that elusive ‘just one’ I had often thought about. Of course that ‘one’ would never have been enough, as I am well aware, moderation does not work for me, I’m an all or nothing kind of a girl.
In the morning, I woke up feeling bad. In actual fact, I felt really quite guilty about my drinking dream as if it was a reality. But then after rubbing the sleep out of my eyes, I realised that was all it was, a dream. Even though it was a bad one.
The thought of telling you all that I had let myself down was properly scary. I felt so ashamed! But then I thought more about it and I realised how far I’ve come, for the actual thought of drinking to be a bad thought now. It’s not something I want to do, or look forward to, or try to excuse. I don’t feel tied to it anymore. I’m just me, plain and simple, take it or leave it. I’m not hiding behind something to make me someone else, and I like that.
It was random, but actually quite welcome in the end, to remind me of what I’ve got. My four years aren’t something I’m going to throw away in a hurry.
Thank you all as always for reading.