Not My Secret Anymore

I pulled my heavy winter coat from the hanger. I hadn’t worn it in awhile. It’s filled with down feathers and weighs an easy three to five pounds. I noticed one side of the coat fall to the ground. It was heavier and unbalanced. I reached down to examine the pocket. It was bulging. Perhaps I had a hat or gloves in there. And then I froze.

It was a mini bottle of Pinot Grigio.

So here I am: 1 year and 4 months sober. And I am still constantly reminded. I work around alcohol, family members and friends drink alcohol, social media advertises the shit out of alcohol…I see it everywhere. I know I can go to the gas station and easily pick up a 4 pack of these mini bottles. So why the shock?

Because I am alone.

Because maybe this time just one little mini bottle will be ok. It’s just one. That’s nothing. Because I feel powerful with my little secret.

Because I am thinking these thoughts.

Because I am scared.

Because I don’t remember hiding that there.

Because I wonder how many more of these little reminders I have to find hidden.

And then I choose to see this as progress….from how low I was to where I am today.

I get a chill down my spine. I laugh. I grab my camera and take a picture. I unscrew the lid and walk over to the sink. I dump it down the drain as I’m shaking my head. And I walk away a little bit taller.

This is not my secret anymore. That is not my life.