If you read my blog or know me personally, you know how much I love my husband. He is my entire world. He is kind, thoughtful, gentle and sweet. I am a lucky woman. We spend most of our time off together, doing something we both enjoy. However, once in a while, he or I will go on an adventure with a friend, instead. In my case, I go to a remote island in Maine with my girlfriends from college for an artist's retreat once a year and in his case, he travels to different baseball parks with a friend of his. It doesn't happen often, but I do believe that it's healthy for couples to have a little time apart now and then for such things.
When I was actively drinking, though I knew I would miss him, I began to look forward to the time he might be gone for a night or two. Why? Because that meant I could drink as much as I wanted to without any judgement. If I wanted to open a second bottle of wine, I could do it. And I could drink as much of that second bottle as I felt like because no one else would be around to see. My addiction loved that part. The freedom to glug, glug. glug it up. It was like having a huge party for one person. Sad, really.
Turns out, I'm far from the only person whose brain operated this way. All of us in last night's group did this. I am willing to bet that most other addicts do it, as well. It's a strange, knee-jerk reaction, akin to taking off your shoes after a long day. Exhaling. Anticipating the fix. I suppose a food addict might see this as an opportunity to have a huge smorgasbord. A sex addict might see this as a way to spend the whole weekend watching porn. Just fill in the blank; it's all the same, really.
It reminds me of an old Simpson's episode in which Homer decides to stay home on cold Sunday morning while everyone else goes to church. He sleeps in, turns up the heat, dances around the house in his underwear, makes a huge breakfast for himself and watches football. I (heart) The Simpsons.
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