An Unfortunate St. Paddy’s Day

I had been doing better this week. I was motivated after a consecutive few good days and my first visit to the dietitian. Friday, however, was not a good day.

I had made plans to go out for drinks (water for me) with one of my friends. The night did not go the way I would’ve liked it to. This is not to the fault of my friend; he was great company. It was me.

We sat there for a while, me sober as a judge, while my friend enjoyed his two whiskeys and a plate of nachos which I politely declined to share. I was so weak and tired at that point that even laughing hurt. My friend, tipsy and uninhibited, would say something witty and I couldn’t even laugh without feeling like I was running out of breath. This was new to me. It scared me, but I managed to conceal both my pain and fear. I did my best to be good company…an attitude I use in almost all social situations.

This is not the way I wanted it to be. I want to be able to go out to a bar on St. Paddy’s Day and enjoy a caloric beverage (alcohol optional). I want to be able to order buffalo wings without hesitation. I want to share my friend’s nachos. I want to be able to laugh uninhibited, without pain, and furthermore to be able to make others laugh. I don’t just want to be polite company–I want to enjoy myself.

I normally don’t share this side of recovery. It’s too dark. But you know what: it’s real, and it’s true, and it’s probably going to be okay. I decided to share it because just maybe someone will read this and feel less alone…that’s exactly how I feel today. But it’s only a day.

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