irishred1973
Greenlighter
- Joined
- Jul 15, 2017
- Messages
- 4
I am on day 8.
Day one, last Thursday. I refrained from picking up my "monthly" refill until after work and didn't pop one until Friday Morning. I promise myself that this month I am going to wean off and at least do better than last month. I take the first one in 18 days and my body is grateful to feel good. By 3:30 I am proud of myself because I have only taken 3. My confidence boosts, my appetite goes down and I am ready to take on the world. I meet my husband for our normal Friday night out. A few beers and some dinner. I tell him I had a late lunch as I struggle to chew and swallow a piece of pizza. I order beer instead and chat his ear off about my day. With The Great Equalizer slowly kicking in I can drink a dozen beers, never getting drunk. He has no idea that I am on day one of my binge. He has no idea what my binge is. He can't know.
We get home and I take two more while he changes from his work clothes. Looking down into my pill bottle I feel safe. There are a ton in there, I have plenty and I am not worried about a damn thing. It's getting late and I know my husband will be going to bed soon. He needs to work at 6 a.m. He kisses me goodnight, looks me in the eyes and makes me promise him that I will not fall asleep on the couch. I lie and tell him I will be in after this episode of Law and Order. I love him with every fiber of my being but he wouldn't understand this. He could not possibly grasp this side of me and I never want him too. I hear the bedroom door close and I settle in for a twelve hour marathon of self indulgence.
I open the bottle and justify popping three. I have the day off and do not have to be responsible. I have my pills, my vape, my phone, my beer and my alter self.
Day one, last Thursday. I refrained from picking up my "monthly" refill until after work and didn't pop one until Friday Morning. I promise myself that this month I am going to wean off and at least do better than last month. I take the first one in 18 days and my body is grateful to feel good. By 3:30 I am proud of myself because I have only taken 3. My confidence boosts, my appetite goes down and I am ready to take on the world. I meet my husband for our normal Friday night out. A few beers and some dinner. I tell him I had a late lunch as I struggle to chew and swallow a piece of pizza. I order beer instead and chat his ear off about my day. With The Great Equalizer slowly kicking in I can drink a dozen beers, never getting drunk. He has no idea that I am on day one of my binge. He has no idea what my binge is. He can't know.
We get home and I take two more while he changes from his work clothes. Looking down into my pill bottle I feel safe. There are a ton in there, I have plenty and I am not worried about a damn thing. It's getting late and I know my husband will be going to bed soon. He needs to work at 6 a.m. He kisses me goodnight, looks me in the eyes and makes me promise him that I will not fall asleep on the couch. I lie and tell him I will be in after this episode of Law and Order. I love him with every fiber of my being but he wouldn't understand this. He could not possibly grasp this side of me and I never want him too. I hear the bedroom door close and I settle in for a twelve hour marathon of self indulgence.
I open the bottle and justify popping three. I have the day off and do not have to be responsible. I have my pills, my vape, my phone, my beer and my alter self.