Third attempt Day 1

 relapse

/rɪˈlaps/
verb
  1. (of a sick or injured person) deteriorate after a period of improvement.


Day 77 proved my undoing. I saw it coming but seemed powerless to stop it. Once it started I probably didn't want to stop it to be honest. 

Marbella looked amazing when we arrived yesterday. After many winter trips over the last few months, the place seemed to have that feeling back again of long, warm, summer days, which makes it so contrasting to the UK. I felt great and texted Arwin to see if he was around and up for a catch up over lunch. He arrived and the conversation started flowing. The sun was warm, the tapas were ordered and my first alcoholic beer for 11 weeks was sunk - just like that, without hesitation and without too much thought frankly. I was warned by those around me but I decided not to listen. 

After lunch we hopped in Arwin's car and he drove us back to our village a short drive up the coast from the centre of Marbella. Luckily we travel so light these days. Everything we need is pretty much duplicated in both our UK and Spanish homes so there is no unpacking to do. I texted Jamie and he joined us, so we all just stayed out in the evening chatting, eating and drinking  - all evening that is. 

It's the classic old bait - lured by the same temptations as 77 days ago - great company, sun, great food, relief to be back home in Spain. No pressure at all from anybody present, I suppose I just decided I needed to let off steam and chose not to try and fight it off. 

I'm not looking at this as a major relapse at all. In fact I've awoken feeling surprisingly pragmatic about everything. I had a lovely day yesterday and I am feeling very proud of myself to have reached day 77. Yes I drank way too much, and the day would certainly qualify in the binge drinking category, but I now know I am capable of turning the switch off for long periods of time. It's only a relapse if I let yesterday become the norm again on a weekly or more frequent basis. I simply don't see that happening.  

Also, if it was a relapse, according to the definition of the word, I would need to have been sick or injured when I started drinking yesterday. How can that be when I felt as good as I have ever felt in my life when I arrived in Marbella. I've come way past the point of sickness. OK, I indulged, let my hair down and had my fill of beer, but I've gained so much confidence and self control over the last few months - it doesn't feel like defeat at all, more like the victory party if you like.  

Yes I do realise how ridiculous that sounds, and some may say I am clutching at straws. 'Let's go celebrate 77 days of sobriety by going out and getting completely shitfaced'. But I would be very willing indeed to trade each 77 days off it for one mother of all drinking sessions. I can see a future in that.  

Can I beat 77 days this time around? I don't know and don't really care to be honest.  I'm not going to over think it all. Why should I, what's the point now? I chose to have a drink yesterday, not because I was craving it or needing it or because I was ill. I decided to have one simply because I wanted it. Today, on the other hand I don't want one. 

Tomorrow? Next weekend? 

I really don't think so either, but let's see.   




  





  


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