Vodka Down the Drain
Today I poured a full bottle of vodka down the drain.
I had drank the night before
I wasn’t hungover, but I wasn’t clear
I’ve done this for years now, slowly taking moments of my morning away.
Even the option of alcohol, the knowing it was in the house, was too much.
It’s not only vodka, open bottles of wine call to me.
An excuse to drink again because I don’t want it to go to waste.
For a few months now, there’s been a disconnect between my daily life of being present and my evenings of rewarding myself by numbing out.
And yet, the next morning, I regret it.
The desire to not be bored, or irritated, or to need to do the finances which are both boring and irritating.
Yesterday, both kids took turns screaming at me
My daughter wanted only Cheetos for dinner.
My son holding onto my legs pulling at my sweatpants till they nearly came off.
These events brought high pitched yelling that would only end if I held them.
I made a drink while stirring the chili for dinner.
We did bedtime, I felt more irritated at my son when he wouldn’t calm down.
He would nurse and then look at me, eyes letting me know this would take a while.
Wanting my daughter stop asking me to read her Shimmer and Shine so I could go continue with my evening.
Then I sat on the couch popping blue cheese-stuffed olives into my mouth
Checking Instagram, Facebook and ordering household items off Amazon..
This is mindless, why I am doing this?
I can’t meditate because I’m drunk.
I woke up feeling guilty.
That’s the worst way:
7:00 a.m. and you’re already apologizing for something.
It’s time I sit with my moments rather than deny them.
Because there is never really any escape.