Revealing the Roots of Behaviors and Addictions
Sorry, I Lied. I Really Want to Drink.
The afternoons are making me feel like someone died — Dryuary Day 3
In the quiet and bullied corners of my brain lies a nervous voice I seldom hear. She says, “Sleep well, and tomorrow you shall wake up feeling victorious.”
Dryuary Day 3
My dreams are intense and foggy through the night. I often awake disoriented and remember nothing. Today, I roused at eight a.m.
Weight: 70.5 kg (the house in the morning is often cold; I kept my pajamas on)
In my last entry to you all, I said that I feel safe at home, that I am only worried about wanting to drink if invited to go out. It is clear that this is wholly disingenuous. I am chewing on my own face, as irritated as a badger. I should be on the porch with a Cabernet. Instead, I’m fielding really annoying questions about my kids’ homework (which should’ve been done days ago) and getting lobbed with barbs from my husband, Anthony.
“In the last two days, you’ve come home from the gym and then gotten really grumpy,” he says.
It ain’t the gym, babe. It’s the afternoon, my witching hour, the pop of the cork, the hug of a wine glass weighted against my palm, the chilly outdoors, a blanket, a cat in my lap. Music. Smoking.
Smoking. I am doing my best to keep a tight handle on smoking, but I am nothing if not fidgety, and having a cigarette on the veranda is soothing (you guessed it, in the afternoons).
So, the mornings are easy. The afternoons, after 4:00 pm, are making me feel like someone died, and I am stung in my throat that I feel so weak. Now I’m thinking that accompanying Gilbert to the gym at 5:30 p.m. is probably a great idea. I must keep myself occupied in those waning hours when the sun goes down and my inner voice leads me to a corkscrew and a glass.
In the quiet and bullied corners of my brain lies a nervous voice I seldom hear. She says, “Sleep well, and tomorrow you shall wake up feeling victorious.”
But it’s only Day 3, and I am on shaky ground.
Josie Elbiry, 2021
The Roots of Behaviors and Addictions is a series of short memoirs written during a month of abstention from alcohol. I learned surprising things about my past traumas and how they manifest in adulthood, how trauma can induce self-destructive behavior, and how abstinence can open doors to healing.
You can catch installments one and two here:
