Hurtful or Helpful

Three times during a counseling session with Veronica, let’s call her Veronica, I asked, “Hurtful or helpful?” Each time, she whispered “Hurtful” about the thoughts she was having, and each admission felt like a guilty plea, a confession to a jury.

I’m not the executioner—she is. Her abandonment, betrayal, and self-deception she’s having internally are battles I’m all too familiar with.

I gave myself permission to drink without limits on Saturday simply because I could. Just typing that brings a tightness to my chest and reminds me that I acted like a scared, chaotic child.

I feel entitled to scold myself, to kick dirt and spit in my own face for the choice. Isn’t that how you break a habit?

Like my client, I must tune into and care for myself, especially in challenging moments.

And to be honest—not mean, just honest—giving myself “permission” to indulge in substances without discipline is a recipe for regret and shame.

So, here’s my promise: I will never drink more than two drinks in a single day again.

I think that’s all I needed to say.

I’m grateful you’re here with me. Love, Jaclynn