I went ‘out’ on Friday. The first time I’d been ‘out, out’ since stopping drinking (see Micky Flanagan clip if you don’t know what I mean).
It was a night at a casino in Manchester playing poker etc. And it was quite hard initially. I got the taste for beers.
As we went to the first bar for food, my neurological associative brain was firing all over the place and I could smell the familiar smell of ‘nightlife’.
It was quite early in the evening, the transition period between the ‘out after workers’ and the ‘out outers’. And I felt great. I noticed how good I felt to be out and not drinking.
I went to the bar and ordered a mojito mocktail. I was excitedly telling the barman that it was my first night out, since quitting drinking and how I was ultimately doing it for charity. It turns out it was 2 for 1 on cocktails (and mocktails), and it also turns out that the barman was impressed with the charity thing and gave me the drinks for free!
As I sat there drinking my free mocktails, feeling good about myself, I thought about how the night would go if I was drinking. How much money I’d spend, how my energy would go after 3 pints and a level of anxiety and uncomfortableness would come in.
To be honest, I ended spending quite a bit anyway because me and the roulette table didn’t see eye to eye, but at least I could handle the depression of that sober. And walk away.
I’m really getting to the point now where I wonder why it’s taken me so long to knock beer on the head.
I feel like I’ve put all my chips on black 17 and it’s just rolled in…
shame that didn’t happen that night š
