I had a close call over the weekend. Not with booze, (for those keeping track, Thursday is my 6-month-a-versary) but with another addiction (habit? dependence? Labels, ugh.) that I don't talk much about on here, because I'm still sorting things through: pot.
Not to go into the details, but I've smoked a fair bit of marijuana. I don't have as near a bad relationship with it as I do with alcohol, but I've noticed that I do tend to use it to replace alcohol, and especially being booze-free has made me more aware of what effect pot was having on my life. Last month, to coincide with my booze-free date, I stopped smoking pot.
The plan in this case is similar to what the booze plan was: set a date when I could start smoking again, and then see what happens. The date is in about a month, but yesterday, after a nice brunch with friends, one of the friends produced a joint for the walk home. I really wanted to partake, and in the moment my resistance was about as tough as a soggy paper bag. When the joint came my way, I demured, but I know without a doubt that if anyone had said "Oh, come on," I would have accepted without hesitation.
This sort of thing worries me, but I'm not letting it get me down. Because I refused in the first place. And that's a kind of progress.
But I what I DO need to do is re-evaluate. If I am to live completely sober, I need stronger defences and stronger motivations. Sometimes we're hanging by a thread, and that thread is the greatest thing in the world, because we're still hanging, not falling. But even spider silk has its limits, and I could definitely use a safety net.