I Will Not Drink Tonight

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I wake at 3am.
I’ve been here before.
I drink the water.
Thoughts of doom swirling around in my head.
Anxiety rears its head.
My head pulsates.
My own voice talks to me.
Not again.

Why do I do this?
What is wrong with me?
I hate myself.
I am pitiful.
No more.
This ends now.
Today.

I will not drink tonight.

I wash, dress and stare at my reflection.
Dark sad eyed and puffy skin.
Another mysterious bruise.
I ponder where I got that from.
I wonder what I said and did.
I think I have a stomach bug.
Heavy head.
Heavy heart.
I didn’t really eat much of my evening meal.
Bottle buried at the very bottom of the bin.

I will not drink tonight.

Heart pounding.
My day is hard.
A Hell of my own doing.
No one can see.
No one can tell.
Tea, coffee, then another.
Tonight I’ll go to bed early.
I’m so tired.
I’ve been tired for so long.

I will not drink tonight.

Drink to flush out the toxins.
My bodyweight in water.
My liver already knowing what to do is busy.
Eat food though my stomach aches.
I know food to make me feel better.

I will not drink tonight.

I buy the food.
Do I buy wine?
A bottle for Partner.
They won’t want to do this.
Bottles glinting in a row.
A special offer of three for two.
I’ll save it for the weekend.

I shouldn’t drink tonight.

The goods laid out in the kitchen ready to be prepared.
The radio on – no one due home until 7pm.
This is my time.
Perhaps 1 glass I’ve had a hard day.
I’m such a drama queen.
I’m not that bad.

I think I may drink tonight.

The anticipation rises up in me.
I pour as excited as a child on his birthday.
The joy of the first glass.
The taste of my need.
My precious…….
The relief as the drug hits my body.

But only one glass.

That glass emptied soon.
Just one more.
Hubby comes home.
You’ve had a few?
No only one.
The lie is done.
The evidence buried somewhere in the kitchen.
The evening flows.
My meal barely touched.
The drink takes my mind further away from here.
A phone call from my daughter.
I speak, she knows.
My denials cast aside.
The talk is short her hurt and anger barely contained.
What do I care.

It’s my life.

Another drink.
An unexpected argument.
What’s that about?
I know I’m right.
I flounce to bed.
Sleep deep.
Then fitful.

I wake at 3am.
I’ve been here before……


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