December is the hardest month. Even in paradise.

Today is my first day of sobriety. well, of not drinking. Again. Last Friday, at a party in San Jose, for the same reason as I drank the first time in my life, I drank again. Beer, this time. I don't remember what is was the first time.

Years and years ago, at Sharon and Jack's house, at a party of their friends, I decided to drink to relax and be comfortable in the company of strangers.

Last Friday, the 17th of December, I made the conscious decision to drink to be comfortable in the company of strangers. It was fun. I enjoyed myself. I didn't get falling down drunk, not nearly, but I was surely high. Everyone was charming, talked to me, laughed at my witticisms and told me how glad they were that Alex had me. These people were as good as, no, better than, family to Alex. Best friend, best friend's wife, wife's mother, mother's sister, wife's sisters and brothers and assorted spouses. A very nice family. In retrospect, I could have, maybe should have, done it without the beer.

The fiesta was on the balcony of a restaurant in Zapote, The Caribbean, and across the street was the December fiesta, with bands, singers, dancing, people from all around the country, lights, fireworks, the whole nine yards. In December, Costa Rica is one big party all month and liquor flows and flows and flows. Seriously, I never say any group who drank like these people drink.

So, I had the beers, a good time, went back to Alfie's B & B in San Jose and slept the sleep of the semi-drunk.

Next morning I felt fine and we took the bus back to Quepos. It was a fine, hot day, but we felt let down, and relieved, after the week long trip to San Jose. We went out Saturday night to listen to live music at Dos Locos, but by the time we got there the band was gone. So we walked around for a while, then went to the Gran Escape. We sat at the bar, a new experience for a woman who grew up in Indiana when women were not permitted to sit at the bar. Casually, as if it were totally natural, I drank three beers. Then we walked to dos Locos where I had another. Then we went home and to bed. Still fine, right?

Last night we had beer in the fridge. Alex had gone to sleep and I was awake. I drank two beers, quickly, to get the feeling, to get sleepy. The I had half of another. It was in cans. It did not taste good. I knew it was time to stop. This, for me, was alcoholic drinking in the truest sense. I Slept well, but in the morning the day was grey. From the inside. So I called my sponsor and told her all about it. Then I walked to Mono Azule to the meeting. I passed, waited to speak last, and told them.

Short and to the point. "....I won't talk more because I have had a drink in the last 24 hours. I don't want feedback, advice, crosstalk about this or discussion about it. I am telling this here because I need to do this for my benefit, so I can start over today. Thank you. "

People's eyes looked surprised, they all know me well, but no one commented. They are also a little afraid of me. ;) It was near eleven when I finished and soon we closed the meeting.

After the meeting I asked Paul, my good friend, to go to lunch with me and told him the details. It was all matter of fact and then we talked about his upcoming trip to the US and other things.

The world didn't end. I didn't fall into an abyss of never ending agony. I will not be shunned, shamed, or disapproved of. Life will go on as before. I am not sorry I did it.

Two out of three of the days I drank were fun. I enjoyed the occasions more because I drank.

The third time was not fun. It wasn't misery either, but it was clear to me that after that day, it would be like before. Not drinking to have fun at a party, but drinking because I drank yesterday, drinking because, just because.

I learned a lot from this. Twenty six years can go in an instant. Twenty six years are not such a big deal. Today is the big deal. A have more understanding of the people who come and go a lot, and a realization of what pride is and how much of it I have. Arrogance. Pride. Smugness. Jesus.

I guess I have learned something new, something that surprises me, almost every day I have been in Costa Rica. This has been an exciting, rewarding, fun, free, glorious time of life for me. I am grateful for all of it.

And that's the name of that tune.

And so it goes.

This is Monday night. Alex and I are watching TV and drinking hot chocolate. he believes the chocolate is good for me now. I have no idea where he got that idea, but he is right. But, my god, he is stirring and boiling and cooking and then we still have to wait for it to cool somewhat. He reminds me of Chris when it comes to his cooking. But, I must admit, it is worth the wait. Just like what Chris makes, what Alex makes is very very good.

The smell of chocolate fills the house. It makes me think of making fudge. I am grateful to have someone to make hot chocolate for me. I am grateful I could decide to not drink any more.

Bobby and Daphne and David will get here on Friday, Christmas Eve day. We will have a great time. We have fun things planned. A trip to Poas and Arenal. An ocean trip to deep sea fish--or not--. It will all be fun and I am very grateful to have the means, the people to help me and the ability to arrange these things. Especially I am glad I am learning the language.

Suddenly I realize it is almost Christmas and soon it will be 2011, I miss Wendall. But in a good way. I am grateful we had each other and that we could do it all so well, clear up to the end, and do that well too. He would appreciate all this, understand everything, accept it all calmly.

Okay, time to stop, before the maudlinity gets out of hand.

I hope this way of informing you, guys, isn't too shocking, but, for me, it seems easiest this way. I do not mind talking about it in the least, but I don't know what else to say.

As to the reference in the headline, December is the hardest month, but that is not the reason for my drinking. Or maybe it is. I'm an alcoholic, so who knows.