Funny thing. Saturday night. So why would I love so much to have a drink? Why am I even thinking about it? I know I don't want one - but why do I feel like I would want one? I know I'm not going to have one, so that is not the problem. It is more like a question. What is this crazy thing that makes me want one for no reason and even though I know it is horribly destructive to me. There is no reason. That's just the way it is. All the shrinks and researchers in the world can study it, but the fact is that in some of us that's just the way it is.
It's OK. I'm not sweating or craving or going crazy. And I'm not drinking. Over time I have learned to live with these moments. All of you can. It takes a lot of time and some failure along the way. I used to feel failure when I wanted to drink. Now, that's not a failure to me. That's just me.
I don't know why I wrote this. I haven't posted for a while. It's just what I am thinking tonight. Thanks to those of you who read this.
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