We're back to taping notes on the wall. Alexa, you bitch, you've failed me!
A forgotten candle caused this regression. MW left it burning all day then spent the night fretting about safety. Getting me out of bed at midnight to check and make sure every candle in the house was "out". Fingers to wick; "Yup, this one's safe...." Now the HD wallpaper is back with instructions to always check the candles, never sleep during the day, don't walk up the stairs wearing a skirt, always hold the handrails, etc. etc.
And once again the promise of a better life through technology has fallen short in its delivery. Oh well, I can still say "Alexa, play Cheap Trick" and get some use from the slag.
The cousins will be here in a week. I've had to take three days off from work so far just to prepare; with more to come, I'm sure. Moving, cleaning... getting the house in order. This summer has been difficult enough with the changes in MW's job and diet - I really don't need to be dealing with this shit too. I wish there was a way to talk with these people, clue them in on the situation, ask them to run all communication with MW through me first so I can plan and manage, but I know that would just make everything worse. They can't be trusted.
The grenades keep getting lobbed in our direction and I'm trying to bat them all away, but I've been whiffing too many these days. I'm exhausted.
I'm also in pain. I haven't had a drink since Sunday night. I suppose it's withdrawal symptoms, but Goddamn. Still? It's been four days. Should I still be waking up at 4 in the morning with the sweats and shakes? How much longer will my hands continue to tremble? I feel my resolve failing. I'm pretty sure I'll be crawling back into the bottle, but hopefully I can get through the family visit first. I'll need a clear head for that.
The basis for this attempt at sobriety was an especially troublesome dream. Not a nightmare, it was actually fairly prosaic - I was in a house that was being renovated so there were lots of workers around, and it was messy, and people were annoyed and busy, but the trouble was I had a hard time snapping out of it. I couldn't distinguish the dream from reality. It was a struggle to come awake. And even after waking up, it took time to sort everything out. Had I been there? Had I done those things? No, impossible. But it unnerved me to the point where I decided to try the cure again.
I went as far as checking Alcoholics Anonymous' website for meetings. Alas, my only availability to attend would be a brief lunch hour and it would have to be within walking distance of the office. No such time/place. Also, the site specified that most alcoholics need the support of their family when going through the cure. Welp. That lets me out.
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