My big mouth

There is a reason I quit drinking. Every time I had more than a glass of wine and got my buzz on, I would have a great time, but when I woke up at 3AM (EVERY TIME) I would lie there for hours in a foggy dry mouthed agony trying to remember each time I stuck my foot in my mouth, was insensitive, over shared, told a whopper, looked foolish, didn't listen.

Does anyone else wake up with 3AM remorse?

I hate it. I hate it so much that I refrain. But I like wine. And I like getting tipsy and being social and sometimes just letting go and having fun. So.

I've been thinking on this a lot the last couple of days. (I did attend lots of parties this weekend and perhaps indulged a wee bit.) Here is what I think. The thing I lie there in agony over at 3AM- the thing that makes me worry and angst and hate myself about?
I lost my act, and dropped the facade. Drinking makes me lose the veneer. I'm always trying so hard to please people and to make them like me. I adjust myself to the situation and work very hard to be what the people I am with would most enjoy. I want to make them comfortable and happy and be what they want me to be. And that is exhausting. And impossible. And eventually I fail and hate myself and then I try harder. I'm so terrified of being judged and coming up short. I'm so tightly wound up these days, it's embarrassing.

So maybe I open my big mouth and I say something stupid. Maybe I say what I really think when I should keep my mouth shut. This happens all the time whether I'm drinking or not. Like all the time. TMI really should be my middle name.
So who cares? Either you like me for who I really am or you don't. If you don't, then why I am I trying so hard? I should surround myself with people who I can trust to like me and who I really like back.

I'm not saying that I want to become a loud, belligerent drunk. I don't. I don't want to hurt someone's feelings or talk over people or not listen or be insensitive. But sometimes I will. Because I'm not perfect. And I have to trust that the people who love me will still love me when they realize I'm not perfect. They ALREADY KNOW I'm not perfect. Maybe it will be a relief to them when I quit trying to pretend I am.

Maybe the rest of the time when I'm not being stupid, I'm being kind and loving and that will balance it all out. Maybe I can let go of control just a little bit and forgive myself in the morning.

Enough navel gazing. Let's plan a happy hour.