"And oh hey, Mulaney, we've got like an old turnip in the fridge. Would you like that, would that be good for you? I know you don't drink."

This isn't going to be pretty.

I used to drink. A lot.

I started drinking when I was in college, really for all the cliche reasons you can think. My friends were doing it, I wanted to fit in, I liked how I felt like I could get away with anything when I was drunk, I felt pretty when I drank, those kind of bs reasons.

I never learned how to drink socially. I drank until I was drunk and could forget who I wanted to be. I got addicted to that really, really fast, and never recovered.

I love belonging to Jesus now, but for a while I didn't. One reason I drank was to try and forget about Him. He just smiled and pursued me all the more until I finally realized there was no point to life without Him.

I knew a lot of the ways I was living when I didn't love Him couldn't continue when I started loving Him again, but I thought I could squeeze drinking under the table and hope He wouldn't care.

But the problem was I didn't just drink. I became a different version of myself when I drank, and that version didn't include listening or loving Jesus.

After pretending I didn't have a drinking problem for years, I finally stood in my kitchen one night after coming home from work and wept.

And then I poured out all the alcohol I had in my apartment.

Next month will have been two years since I last drank.

This might be the most cliche of all: I don't think a day goes by when I don't want to drink.

Because the two year mark is coming up, I spent some time a few weeks ago thinking about drinking, and wondering if I could start drinking again, teaching myself how to drink socially.

It felt innocent enough to think like this. I told myself I had a boyfriend whom I could drink with who cared enough about me to keep me mindful of what my limit was, I told myself I could go out with my sister and her friends when they occasionally have a casual drink and she would keep an eye on me, I told myself I could control myself.

I knew I was lying to myself.

I know that I will probably never be able to drink again. I don't know if I will ever have enough willpower to just drink one.

But I'm learning that I don't need to feel shame for that.

I'm learning that the people who really love me, the people I should be surrounding myself with, will respect me enough to respect this addiction.

That doesn't mean I don't have days that just randomly pop up like today where literally all I want to do is have a drink and then five more.

I've learned ways to cope with days like today, and I'm still learning. I'm learning to immediately remove myself from situations where alcohol is present because while I don't see alcohol as a bad thing and the thought of judging people for drinking has never even entered my mind, I know that some days just seeing someone enjoying a beer is enough to take me to a place in my mind that isn't okay.

Here's another thing that's really, really not pretty that I'm having a hard time even writing down.

I don't have a problem at all telling people I don't drink. I have stolen the John Mulaney line of, "I used to drink, and then I drank too much, and had to stop," more times that I can count.

What I do mind is having to admit to things I've written down today, that alcohol is an addiction for me and I will never get over or stop having really, really bad days like today.

What I do mind is having to leave friend groups or distance myself from people I like because alcohol is included in the mix and some days I simply cannot be present in the presence of alcohol.

Just know that if it hurts you that I can't be present, believe me it hurts me about a hundred thousand times more. And also believe I just broke down crying writing that sentence.

Everyone struggles with things, but I guess none of us really like admitting we're human.

Hi, my name is Meagan, and I constantly would like a drink.