In the distant past there were times when I drank too much. Eventually I thought I might be in danger of becoming an alcoholic, so I stopped drinking at home and just had a couple of wines socially now and then.
Recently, when I was Andrew's carer, I used to have a couple of small glasses a night to help with the stress. After he died, I didn't feel the need. Dealing with grief, not stress, the last thing I needed was a downer.
But I felt the urge last night, brought home a bottle of soft, fruity red, and poured myself two small glasses in turn as I watched the telly. Today I wondered, 'Am I in danger of developing a dependence?' Nevertheless, tonight I looked for the glass I'd been using, so as to have a wine before dinner. Finally I found it, still sitting by my telly-watching chair, still half full. I must have forgotten all about finishing the second glass.
I guess I'm not in too much danger yet.
Cross-posted from LiveJournal
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