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A Hotel Room Alone Used to Equal a Big Hot Mess
I spent 5 nights alone in a hotel room and didn’t want to drink
As I packed up the last items in my suitcase in preparation to head to the airport, my husband quietly asked, “Are you going to go crazy at the hotel?”
“No way. I am done going crazy.”
Back in the day when I detested sobriety, I would tell him that sometimes I just needed to “let my crazy out” which implied that he would have to accept it.
He usually did, begrudgingly. But, it was always upsetting and I know he absolutely hated when I let the crazy loose.
This time though, he knew I wouldn’t be letting my crazy out.
“I’m done letting my crazy out. In fact, I think I’ve let it all out and there is no more crazy left.”
He let out a sigh of relief and smiled.
There were a few different times in our marriage that I was drinking heavily, fighting with him, and marched straight out of the house to catch an Uber to a hotel room.
It was my brilliant idea both times for us to take a break from each other when I was really escaping so I could drink as much as I wanted to without judgment.
