Stop the wagon, I'm getting off.

I've decided to drink.

I don't think it's a relapse. It's not a matter of "OMG life sucks I can't take it I need a drink!" I don't NEED a drink. Hell, I don't even want one right now.

What I want is certainty.

I wasn't what they call a "low-bottom drunk" when I quit. I didn't lose a job, or a spouse, or get sent to rehab.

I quit drinking because I could not picture my life without alcohol. This is no longer so. I haven't had a drink in ten months. I can do it.

But do I have to? I grow weary of being the only sober person at the party. Of the sheepish looks and awkward silences that follow harmless slips of the tongue from normal drinkers. If that's the way it has to be, then so be it. But what if that ISN'T the way it has to be?

I had a very bad year last year. No support system, no healthy coping mechanisms, no belief in myself or my future. I knew I was out of control, I just didn't care.

I'm not that girl anymore. I know who I am, and more importantly, who I want to be. I want to continue to grow as a person, to keep strengthening my relationship with God, to work toward my as-yet-undiscovered Personal Legend.

And I can no longer say with any degree of certainty that I must abstain from alcohol to do that. I can no longer say "I'm an alcoholic" and know it's true.

The Big Book says, if you're not sure you're an alcoholic, try some controlled drinking. So, that's what I intend to do. I'm not running back to the bottle or anything. But, the next time I'm in a social drinking situation, if I feel like it, I'll have a drink. My sponsor is on board. He says that the fact that I decided yesterday morning to try again, yet I haven't had a drink yet, is a good sign. He will be there for me whether I succeed or fail, and he will love me no matter what.

Maybe I'll discover that I CAN be a social drinker; that I'm not an alcoholic, I was just lost. Or, maybe I'll discover that I still can't have just one, that when I take that first drink I still lose all control. If so, then I'll go back to AA. But at least I'll know for sure.

Not my proudest of moments.

I drank on an empty stomach last night. Yeah, I know - I know better than that. I wasn't all that hungry and it was one of those moments when life seemed to be happening too fast to worry about stuff like food. Some of it was funny. Some of it wasn't.

I got hit with firecracker shrapnel. So, secret achievement unlocked?

I went on my first Harley ride! After swearing so emphatically for all these years that while I love to look I'd never touch, I did it. And it was awesome. And the whole time I was thinking "Dad's gonna be so pissed."

At some point - a very hazy point - I decided I needed to talk to my sister. I don't remember where I was or what I was doing when the idea struck but I grabbed my phone and took off down the road. Barefoot. And I was crying and rambling and more of a mess than she should have to deal with - but I said so many things I hadn't been able to until then and I'm glad I did.

I learned things about myself I didn't really want to know. But, knowledge is power and I'm glad to have it. Now the question is, what will I do with this knowledge? I have choices to make - about the life I have, the life I want, about who I am and who I want to be.

The cake was a lie.

It's almost that time again.

I moved out of the house on April 4th of last year. Our would-be anniversary was June 8th.

This time last year I had three states of being: drunk, hungover, or waiting to get drunk.

I was both lonely and scared to be alone. I felt like a failure. And I was angry at him for blaming everything on me.

So I drank.

The anniversary was the worst. I saw it as a monument to all my sins. I remember killing a bottle of rum, deciding I wasn't drunk enough, and calling someone to take me to the liquor store. By time I was done, I couldn't even raise the glass to my lips, couldn't walk, couldn't function.

That was a MONDAY. Can you imagine how Tuesday felt?

I woke up and decided I was done fucking around.

I knew what I had to do.

I had to come clean to my big brother. About everything.

Of all the people in my life, Russ is the one I worry about disappointing. And the divorce was hard on him, both because it contradicted his beliefs and because he was close to both of us.

So I talked to him about everything. The divorce, the mistakes leading up to it. And somehow, that fixed everything.

So here I am, a year later.

Wedding: $1500
Moving to Kansas: $300
Getting an apartment: $700
Divorce: $174
Finally figuring out who I am: Priceless.