I went out last night to meet one of my friends to exchange holiday gifts. I knew some drinking would be involved but I really have been trying to limit my intake to 2 drinks per sitting. We went to the bar and exchanged gifts and I sipped on my first glass of wine while they finished beer number 2 or 3. The bartender asked me if I was ready for another and I said no not yet. I ended up ordering food but they didn't want to eat. I heard it affects the buz... We played one of those bar arcade games that is right on the bar counter, I picked some songs in the jukebox and we talked about the latest with life. When my nachos came I ordered drink number 2 and I started to try to explain about how I am seeing a therapist and they are helping me drink less so I can be how I used to be; drinking social not drinking to feel numb. They had also expressed how they wanted to drink less but they are not really ready to put forward the effort. I think that is fine, for awhile I wasn't either. But as I explained the qualifying questions my doctor asked me to determine if I have a problem with alcohol they made jokes and were negative. I offered that we could work on it together and explained my tactics of how I was going to accomplish this. I then ran to the ladies room and came back to the conversation and nachos, deep in thought of the topic and enjoying the food. I drank a couple sips of my wine and realized they ordered me another drink. This was no longer number 2 (my limit), it was number 3 I was sipping. Did they really not get it or does misery just love company so much that they need to bring you down too.
I called my mom on the way home and was so sad but I didn't know why really. Was I dissappointed that I drank number 3, was I upset they ordered number 3? Was I reminded of how bad I used to be before I hit my rock bottom? Was I sad that I no longer can hang out with my friend until I get a better grip on things?
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