Day 6! I made it

So this weekend wasn’t as bad as I thought.  It started with a nice dinner and a signature drink, lots and lots of questions about pregnancy.  No, I am not pregnant I am just not drinking.  I got weird looks and two people who cornered me later to get me to ‘fess up.’

I just laughed and stuck to my story, people stopped caring as soon as they got drunk.

The only part that annoyed me a little was that I picked up the wrong glass and had a big swig of what I thought was coffee only to find out it was coffee and baileys.  It was so gross and sweet something I never drank.

The best part of the weekend was all the laughter and the fact that I remember the whole thing and really cherish the fact that I love these group of people and hope I can be honest with them in future.

Bags are packed

abbey
My bags are packed and I am heading out tomorrow afternoon.  Day 4 under my belt.
For my trip I have brought a good book, magazine, some games, and of course my pup.  She is just 4 months old but as my husband put on the phone earlier, ‘a good escape plan’ if I needed a little time away from the festivities.
She loves the beach though and we can have pets at the house so it’s a no brainer for me.
I bet she will come in handy 🙂

Hoping to blog about it all on Sunday… that will be day 7!  Above is a picture of my little lady hanging out on my husbands suitcase a couple of weeks ago.

And so it begins

breakfastThis weekend I am heading to the beach for a bachlorette party of sorts.

Best friends, hot tub, beautiful weather, and BOOZE.

There is even a signature drink.

I am super nervous maybe a little fearful but I am going to fake, fake it until I make it.
My brilliant idea of faking it is by lying.  Lying is terrible, it makes me feel awful inside and nothing good every really comes of it.  In some cases though, lying can be a great way to protect yourself.  This is my rational. I need to protect my feelings a little longer, get some time under my belt to prove to myself I can do this and then let my people know.

I am not ready for the queries, the looks, and for people to not take me seriously.
I know what you’re thinking, well you shouldn’t call them friends if they would treat you like that.  That might be true, and something I will need to grapple with at a later date but right now I need to focus on getting through the weekend, and not steal the spot light from the bride.

So for now, I am lying and saying that I am on a medication that has an adverse reaction to alcohol.  A few of my friends are PAs and nurses so this won’t be too hard to fake.  I’ll let you know how it goes.  Cheers to day 3

Putting it all together

I woke up two days ago with a bruise on my arm, dent in the wall and a pounding that felt like the seven dwarfs were mining my brain.  So I decided to quietly call it quits.

I am 30ish and am needing a little change.  That is what I am going to tell myself for these next few days and potentially move on from denial at some point.  Right now though it seems pretty nice, and safe, so I am going to hang out here for a bit.

Recently, my weekend nights have gone a little like this:
go to work all day, get off around 4 pm, meet up with my husband or friends for happy hour or drink at home, eat a little dinner, polish off a bottle of wine — then two.  Wake up Saturday, do a little work (if my headache wasn’t too bad) start drinking around 2pm.  Drink enough wine to sink a small boat, with friends or alone.  I would always make it a little event to look forward to, like going to the park and having wine, putting on an old movie, or trying out a new tasting room.  However, obscure or glamorous I tried to make it, it is still binge drinking.  Sunday would be a hangover followed by a boozy brunch and then would start Sunday Funday, also known as day drinking all day.  In bed wasted around 7pm.

I think it started in college but who really knows… I am sure I have blacked it out along the way.  All I know now is that I am sick and tired of being the drunkest girl at the party, the last one to go home, and the first to pop open a bottle.