Journal of a Drunk

My name is Erin, and I am an alcoholic.

Don't expect a "whew, I said it!" because I've been saying it for a long time now.

I didn't always drink.  My first sip of alcohol was followed by a "blegh!  what the fuck!" when I was 12 and at my older brother's wedding.  It was white wine.

My husband Adam and I are going to take a camping trip in a few weeks to detox.  This will be my journal from now through detox, sobriety, etc.

The hardest part will be coming home from work.  That's my trigger.  Even when I didn't drink as heavily as I do now, it was my "thing" to come home and make a gin & tonic.  Just one.  Now I can't have just one.  As soon as I leave my work building, I can feel it pulling at me.  The relief of "now, I can drink."

But I'm sick of the anxiety related to the following:

• Am I going to be able to get to work tomorrow?  And at a decent time?  Would they eventually fire me?
• Will I have to go out for booze at some point during the night?
• Tomorrow is Sunday, and this damn state has Blue Laws, so do I need to stock up on Saturday?
• Oh fucking hell, I'm at work and feel like shit.
• My husband and I are getting ridiculously fat because we're drunks.

We're both drunk right now.  It's hard to be creative.  But I do promise to be honest throughout this process.