Total Fatty

I had a drinking dream last night. Actually, I had an almost drinking dream last night.

I was in a liquor store, trying to decide between rum and vodka. I wanted to buy vodka, so people wouldn’t smell booze on my breath, but I couldn’t remember what to drink with it. I was fixated on coke as a mixer, which I knew was good with rum, but I couldn’t remember if it went well with vodka too.

I had some sort of embarrassment or drama going on in the dream that I wanted to hide from, and I wasn’t at my home or anywhere near people who might hold me accountable. Seemed like a clever way to get out of whatever I was feeling.

So there I was,  holding a small bottle of vodka in one hand and a small bottle of rum in the other, staring at shelves of vodka and rum bottles in the liquor store, when I just up and decided it was a dumb idea. I put the bottles back and left the store.

Then I woke up.

And then I hit the snooze button – duh – because I wanted to go back to sleep to somehow finish the dream. Would I eventually turn around and decide to drink? What would drinking feel like now that I’ve been sober over a year?

I wanted to dream-drink, so I wouldn’t have to drink in real life.

But my chicken-shit dream-version of myself made the decision to skip it, and I wasn’t able to get her to turn around and give it a go. Three snooze button pushes later, and I decided I needed to get real-Ingrid out of bed.

When I first started to write this post I thought it would be about how little we know about the undercurrents in our minds. Here I am, digging deep into my past to heal my shitty relationship with my body and food, but maybe I never properly dealt with why I drank and how that period of my life – my overdrinking out-of-ontrol phase – might have affected me. I thought the dream might be a message to remember that I’m not DONE with drinking, and that spiraling time of my life is just waiting for me to get to it once I’m done with the food and body crap.

But now I don’t think so. I think the dream was a pat on the back. A message from my re-awakened soul parts that I’m actually healing and even my sub-conscious knows better than to drink alcohol to solve a problem. It even knows better than to get drunk to escape a problem, temporarily. She’s good. I’m good.