Day 327.
I’m getting a lot of memory reminders from FB about this day 4 years ago (November 2017), when I had my first tv spot, a prime-time appearance on a popular cable tv show, Rachel Maddow. I have a dual memory of this big moment, a public and private memory. Memory 1 was that this was absolutely incredible, just everything I love about being in NYC, that you can get a call in the afternoon and then a few hours later be in a makeup chair and on set before millions of people. As soon as I knew I’d be on during prime time, I told my family, friends in NYC as well as those from my hometown.

Memory 2 was that I had been cutting back on my drinking and had not drunk for a couple days before this appearance, so I was already feeling better and “de-puffed.” But after getting offset and while being driven home, all I wanted to do was DRINK. Like slurp a bowl of bourbon drink. My husband and kids were so happy for me, and left me sweet voicemail messages, but the kids were in bed by the time I got home around 10:30, and there was no alcohol in the house (I probably poured it out days earlier), and the closest liquor store was closed (I of course knew its closing time out of necessity), so I went around the corner toa bar by myself and sat there texting friends and drinking four bourbons on an empty stomach in the next hour before stumbling back home. And waking to a hangover, of course.

Every time I got a call after that, I had this internal tug of war—about whether I looked too puffy or felt too hungover, and so should pass on the spot, or if it was late evening spot, if it was worth it to pass on the drink until afterward.

When I think back on my decision to drink that night, it’s so obvious what bourbon would do to the whole experience. It just created this sad, second, private memory of the night. Instead of staying at home with my husband and soaking up the moment, I went off by myself “to celebrate and unwind.”

I have a zillion dual memory nights. Where it looked like I was having a lovely time, but there was some secret, shadow drinking behavior that was going on, the memory of which dominates and colors the sweeter memory.

It’s been almost a year since I’ve had a dual memory night. NO MORE DUAL MEMORIES. I’m fully in the experience now, and even when the experience sucks, I like the memories so much better.