I Cheated on My Sobriety Today

Christmas spirit and all that jazz

Artwork provided courtesy of artist Christopher Robin

I cheated today.

I have been sober for a good solid couple of years now. In the beginning, I slipped a few times as I became accustomed to my new lifestyle. As of late, things have been a breeze and I’ve been supremely proud of myself.

This year, I attended my fancy holiday office party and ordered a virgin cocktail.

I attended a Christmas sip and paint party and happily had myself a Diet Coke.

I attended a festive department dinner and ordered a virgin cocktail I didn’t touch; instead, I drank warm water. But I didn’t miss the drink.

Needless to say, I’ve been pretty damn proud of myself throughout this holiday season. Last year, I hid and didn’t attend any festive activities. This year, I put myself out there and it wasn’t as scary or difficult as I thought it would be.

Today, I started wrapping Christmas presents and ran out of tape. In the past, wrapping Christmas presents was a tradition accompanied by a drink. Or two. Or three. Today, I was completely fine. No cravings, no desire to drink, no stress. Things have been going great.

I quickly hopped out to Target to buy more tape and pick up a few stocking stuffers. Acne cream, body scrub, pimple patches, a Christmas ornament—all the fixings for a teenage girl. I passed by the liquor aisle, and as if I was transported back three years, I breezily walked down and set my eyes on a package of mini Irish Cream liqueur bottles. I put them into my basket without much thought and walked toward the cash register.

I didn’t allow myself to think, argue internally, or rationalize. I did what I did, and that was that.

Over two years of sobriety and it was as easy as that.

Christmas spirit and all that jazz.

I got back home and downed the bottles.

That’s what I did, friends. Shame and boils on my body, that’s what I did.

I won’t drink tomorrow or the day after that, or on Christmas Eve, or even—my God—Christmas. I won’t crave it and I won’t need it, and I’ll feel better for it. But today…today, my body didn’t even give my brain the chance to reject what it was doing. It didn’t allow it in. It wanted what it wanted and sweet baby Julio, it was crafty.

And did I feel good? No.

Did a buzz feel relaxing and awesome? Yeah, no.

Did shame hit me like a tractor skidding across a pothole? Yessiree Bob.

Christmas is, for me—like many others, a complicated time. My emotions used to run rampant around my feelings regarding my father, who is now long passed. Now, I think back on my marriage. A rocky and confusing time, yet, the last time I think I felt like I truly belonged at this time of year.

So many years have passed since my divorce that I don’t dwell on the negatives anymore. I just think back on what was good and special and unique to us. It doesn’t matter as he is happily married to his husband and I am happily single, enjoying my space and time and penchant for lying in bed watching bad reality television.

For a long time, I hid from the holidays I loved so much with the little touches of festive booze added to my drinks, including my annual Christmas mimosas in the morning.

As a single mom, I still face the morning with no presents under the tree for myself, but the joy of watching my last remaining child at home opening her presents and making us breakfast to celebrate the day.

It’s lonely.

I don’t have to tell many of you that.

It’s lonely and it’s sad. Most of my family lives far away, but I do my best to be festive and lively.

Was it my subconscious trying to fill that void as it was wont to do in the past?

Probably. And I’m going to do my best not to beat myself up for it. It’s just weird that the moments I was so worried about, I was strong and at my best. And in a split second, in a moment that I wasn’t even worried, I caved.

I don’t feel better.

I don’t feel drunk or buzzed.

I don’t feel happy.

I don’t feel more creative.

My stomach hurts. I feel lazy. And I feel a little stupid. That’s about it.

For my own journey, I don’t pretend to think that it’s going to be perfect. It hasn’t been and it won’t be. And it isn’t the end of anything. It didn’t cause additional cravings, and it isn’t going to set me off on a course of self-destruction.

I think what disappoints me most is that I’m not one of those sober people who can claim to the day their sobriety. I just can’t. I’ve slipped at times, and while for the most part, it’s been a solid two years, I’m imperfect.

And imperfect doesn’t make me bad. It just makes me human.

It could be deeper rooted than I’m giving it credit for.

Christmas has always made me profoundly sad while incredibly happy at the same time. I miss my immediate family this time of year, and I miss the magic of my childhood. I try with all my might to emulate that for my own kids, but, I just don’t think it’s the same.

My tween daughter seemingly couldn’t give a crap if she gets anything. This isn’t a bad problem to have, but when you want to provide for a nice and fun Christmas, it can be frustrating trying to guess what in the world an iPad-obsessed twelve-year-old could possibly want or need. I think I did pretty well this year, but we’ll see.

My son is spending his first year away, celebrating the holidays with his live-in girlfriend in Chicago. They remind me so much of my former husband and myself when we first started out with our Kmart ornaments and corner-bought tree.

I miss the days of my youth.

I miss the days of love during the holidays.

I miss my son and our shared geekiness this time of year.

I think there is a lot inside of me that I bury, but what else am I supposed to do? Dwell on my past problematic marriage and pre-divorce childhood? Or move forward with what I have?

I didn’t tell two of my best friends about this today and they are reading this at the same time you are. I do feel shame. I know they won’t judge me, but like everyone—I want them to be proud of my accomplishments. I mean, I set my mind to be alcohol-free, so damn it, I should be alcohol-free, right?

I cheated on my sobriety today, and you know what?

It didn’t change a thing. And tomorrow? I continue onward.