It really is frightening

Yesterday I went to a huge party. Filled with the rich, bold (but not that beautiful to be honest) and the champagne flowed. Copious amounts. I brought my n/a beer and I had stressed a lot about it this week and I was rather freaked out to be honest. Off we went, I held the glass of champagne and then made the switch with my husband so everything looked NORMAL. Oh, how annoying that is, the need in me to appear normal. Anyway. I fetched my beers and everything was fine. I stayed for two hours and then I went home to my kids. Sober, sober.  Two people noticed my beer. One of them a pregnant woman gave it that quizzical look but said nothing since she’s too well raised and knows how to behave (but she’s also just the kind of person that ponders and think and comes to conclusions regarding my choice of beverage). But I really don’t care. The other one, she was one of us. Oh man was she ever. She approached me and the first thing she told me was that I looked absolutely stunning and the second was if she could have a bite of my sandwich that I was nibbling. She laughed and told me she’s a very direct person and then we introduced ourselves. She was obviously tipsy, maybe even more – hard for me to know her being a stranger and all. Anyway. She really was very direct because then she asked me why I didn’t drink alcohol and if I ever did and she was so happy that she was going to get drunk tonight and then a long and quite incoherent explanation about how life was not very good at the moment and thank god she had such a hottie for a husband and the only time they had any fun anymore was when they were both out and drinking. They had troubles in their marriage she said and he was so happy when she finally relaxed and … You can imagine the rest. Then she asked me if I did have a glass of wine sometimes and I lied and said yes but that I had quit because alcohol gives me so much anxiety these days. Which is very true. And then I knew. She said that I obviously had made the right decision in taking responsibility for my own wellbeing but she didn’t want to. She still thought it would be worth it if she had a huge night out. Then I in a moment of inexplicable honesty told her that even two glasses of wine gives the worst angst and she just agreed. Nodded and told me she knew exactly what I meant and that she didn’t even touch the stuff if it was just going to be two glasses. All or nothing. And I knew.

How in the world did I manage to fool myself into believing that no one knew that I had a drinking problem? I mean she could just as well be walking around with a neon sign according to me. Of course I liked her, she was a lovely drunk and I do believe we, The Drunkards, are a special bunch and that we do get along very well because we’re so much alike. But I also felt sad for her. When she’s ready I’ll be here to help her.

But that isn’t what I mean when I say it is frightening. 2:45 my husband came home. He was so insanely drunk it scared the living hell out of me. He was completely off balance and not making any sense and of course he woke me up. Then he spent an hour in the kitchen making sandwiches or something. Banging doors, dropping cutlery, generally being just very, very drunk. The scariest part that he was talking to someone. And he was all alone. He was so drunk that he, not really hallucinated but was probably in some dream state while being able to still walk around. It was so fucking scary I can’t begin to describe it. Is this what alcohol does? And it is legal? He was a completely other person, someone I don’t know. It felt like there was a stranger in my kitchen and a stranger that was also clinically insane because he kept talking to himself/someone. Now he’s down on the sofa and of course I should relish in smugness but I have a headache because I was up for almost two hour listening to him before going into one of the children’s rooms to sleep in one of their beds because it was just too uncomfortable to listen to him. So now i just feel … Sad. And empty. And angry with him. And scared/anxious of exactly how drunk he was at the party yesterday and if people noticed and if … I don’t know. Taking responsibility for his actions I guess.

And today is Fathers Day, so soon we’ll go down stairs and give him gifts and breakfast in sofa and it all feels very sad. What a fucking mess. What a insane thing it is that this liquid is sold and legal and that my children will drink this shit which can turn them into someone else. I’m feeling very teetotal today.