Oh man. This is where I find myself, once again. Once again, this is where I am.

A morning after a night spent tossing and turning, the inside of my mouth the texture and taste of old moss. The sight of the sleeping child next to me fills me with sadness instead of joy.

I have disappointed both of us, again. And you are too small to even know it, but I do. I know that for the last three days, through my actions, I decided -once again- against being the mom that you deserve and against being the role model I want you to have.

We’re on vacation, and I was inexplicably sad, depressed, anxious and on edge. And that’s not how I wanted to be on this precious family vacation. But I didn’t even try to go for a walk, talk to a friend, take a bath, paint, or play and cuddle with you guys, or even just let you watch a movie and pull a blanket over my head.

Instead, I fipped the most reliable switch I know when it comes to avoiding any and all challenging emotions – at least until the next day when they all come rushing back with sickening force: with a month of sobriety under my belt, I poured myself a drink. And another. And another. And another. And another. And another. And another. And another. And another. And another.

And for a little while it worked. And not anymore. And I am just so, so sorry.

But I love you too much to give up, and so I try to regain an inkling of courage and hope that this time it will be different. And for it to feel at least a little different from the get-go I am starting this blog.

Today is Day 1 and for that I am grateful.