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The Vice

Many law abiding citizens do not use alcohol as a vice. I don’t understand you weirdos.


(Folks working sobriety through AA or other forms, there is literally a pathway of GOLD leading to Heaven for you... I'm talking about regular blue collar sinners like myself ).


For me, pouring a cocktail is a nightly ritual: the clinking of ice in the tumbler, the long triple pour, the fizzy water with a splash of Diet Cran-Grape on top.


The simplicity of the act is like a quiet drunken prayer, as the house is shutting down for the night, and I am wearing comfy oversized pajamas that may or may not resemble a displaced middle aged woman, as I quietly whisper to myself ‘You made it another day. You deserve this.’



This behavior, which took no time at all to turn into a habit, started when my mom was diagnosed with Cancer. No matter which “healing modality” I utilized with vigor, my brain chatter would not quiet. It was when my eye began to twitch involuntarily, I realized I needed something to help me calm the fuck down.


Cue Vodka. Close to a decade later, am I calm yet?


For those of y’all that know me, I am a fairly healthy person. I eat decently, I move my body, I talk to God like allllllllll the time, mostly demanding answers. This tumbler at the end of the day is my last hurdle.


So I did what anyone in my position would: last year I convinced myself that if I drank less, it would make absolutely NO difference.


To my very own demise, I began to sleep better. I woke up clear headed and well rested. The fog rolled out and I had more clarity.


GOD DAMNIT. This social experiment was not working out the way I had imagined. My only guideline was simply this: treat myself kindly and with grace if I did drink more than intended. For Catholics everywhere, this is HUGE. Tom hopped on board too, and we were both doing okay.


Well, guess what? I just came off of a 20 day bender. Don’t worry, I had my own intervention. Was it Abby’s surgery, or the holidays and the lack of clarity of exactly which day it was? Was it the Costco sized bag of Pita Chips with hummus? Does it really matter?


Yes and no. What matters most is me forgiving myself and realizing I feel more aligned when I made a different decision.



The reason I am even sharing is because, if you are struggling, me too.

If you were once killing it, and have stumbled, I see you.


If you know it can be different, so do I.


So let's just start right where we are, together


.Being alive is hard...I love you, Michelle Francois Walsh



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