I’ve been in bed most of the day, watching bad movies and guzzling down water. My laundry needs to be folded, I have good library book that I should be reading, and there is always writing I could be doing, but I continue to lay under the covers. I am hung over.

Going into New Year’s Eve, it was my intention to have one or two drinks at a friend’s house, but I had more than just one or two drinks. The party was wonderful, I saw people I enjoy, and I continued to grab craft brews out of the fridge until it was late.

Since the end of my sobriety project, I have resumed a moderated drinking level, going out with friends for wine or sipping a holiday cocktail. I don’t say yes to alcohol every time it is presented to me, but also don’t refrain from indulging anymore. I do still crave to drink more than I let myself, but I can just have one.

As I lay in bed this morning, it’s been hard not to shame myself for drinking so much last night. Wasn’t I supposed to be the one who controlled her alcohol? Wouldn’t people who read this blog be disappointed if they knew that I got drunk last night? How could I let them down? How could I let myself down?

This is a new year, though, and I reject that kind of thinking. I will not torture myself by trying to be as I think others may want me to be. I will not fall into a belief that my relationship with alcohol needs to fit into a box. I will not criticize myself for having a fun, safe evening with friends and drinking a bit more than I normally do.

My biggest resolution for 2018 is to practice acceptance and stop apologizing for myself. I can make mistakes and learn from them, but I also don’t have to follow anyone else’s rules but my own.

So maybe I start the year hung over, but I do so without shame or guilt.

Here’s to a new one, friends.

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