It’s been a while.  I probably cursed my journaling here by saying I wanted to do it every day.  My recovery is going really well.  There are some *moments* of thinking about alcohol in a yearning way, but not actually *yearning* for it.  Missing it like an old friend, perhaps.

Our time at the lake is the hardest for me in regards to thinking about drinking.  It’s so vacation-ish and camping-ish, both of which go hand in hand with a drink or 10.

My husband’s recovery is also doing so well.  I have just passed 6 months of sobriety and he is approaching 3 years.  We communicate, we love each other, for THREE whole years we have been intimate and connected and… laughing.  We laugh.  We live in a joke.  I live in prayer and laughter.

Yoga has become very important in my journey and life.  AA has become less important.  Still, my husband is first, besides God, who will always be first in His own entity.  The entity of everything, that is.  Many things have happened… my son is going through puberty.  He has a black toe hair, 2 long scraggly chest hairs… I let him drive a bit and that was disastrous, a memory for us all… my other son fell off the top of a slide and had one tiny scratch to show for it.  My other son took an extra month to finish his final school assignments.  We’ve had a 4 wheeler “accident” and many close calls.  Lots of drama and scary things but none have led me back to the drink.  None have really even come close.

The closest I came was just this past weekend- which may be what urged me to write again… the rumchada pudding desserts in tiny plastic jello shot cups.  The girl next to me was talking about not wanting the cookie on hers.  I fixated on that cookie.  She was picking it off.  I was staring at it.  Inner dialogue: it would just have a HAIR of the taste of the goods on it.  Clearly it’s not like actually drinking, it would just have a fraction of a taste of rum and I could remember, but not actually drink!  What an opportunity!  I wouldn’t even have to tell anyone if I ended up deciding I shouldn’t have.  Should I?  Might it get me back on the drinking train?  I don’t want that.  But it’s not even a drink. I’d be like eating a piece of chicken cooked in wine.  Just the flavor without the content or risk!  But no, it probably is unwise.  So I’m thinking these things at 1000 words per second.  In the 1 second it took her to remove that damn cookie I had a huge conversation with myself about it.  I think it was a Teddy Graham for crying out loud.  And then- she lifts it off – and I’m looking at the cookie- and BAM, she gives the cookie to the dog.

I just laugh.  I am still laughing.

I wouldn’t have really taken it.  It would be a teensy step in a very bad direction and I would have declined that cookie.  Buttttt…. these are the thoughts a sober alcoholic has.  A recovering alcoholic.

Two people in two different groups of neighbor friends (none of whom know I’m an alcoholic) offered me drinks.  Both were drunk, and we know how pushy drunk people are.  I declined and it was totally not a big deal.  I was very happy, pleased, even proud- mostly humbled by the strength God gave me.  Who knew.

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