I wrote down the obvious ones - weddings, parties, the holidays, social events in town.
"Dig deeper," she told me. "Think about your drinking patterns, what made you want to hide from yourself?"
My hand trembled as I wrote two words on the page: My kids.
I burst into tears, sobbed into my hands and said, "What is wrong with me? What kind of mother wants to hide from her kids?"
She leaned forward, looked me dead in the eye, and said: "The human kind."
It took many months of sifting through guilt, shame and regret to figure out that my feelings about motherhood weren't there because I didn't love my children, or that I wasn't cut out to be a mother. I love my children beyond measure - I always have and I always will.
It's just that I don't always like them; there are days when I just want to hit the pause button for a while. It's more than just the constant needs of two young kids - it's about fear, too.
It makes me want to hide, to withdraw from the center of their love. Not because I don't love them, but because I do. A huge part of my drinking was the mistaken belief that I was saving them - from me - by removing myself from the equation, bit by bit.
Admitting that to myself was the hardest part of getting sober, but without facing that truth I'm not sure I could have succeeded.
Yesterday was one of those days where I couldn't get out of my own way. The sound of Finn's voice was sending shivers up my spine. He was needy, clingy, whiny; he spent most of the day pressed to my side or draped across my lap. We had plenty to do yesterday; it wasn't boredom.
He sensed something in me, I know he did , because he kept saying, over and over, "I love you, Momma. I'll always love you, know matter what."
The needier and more clingy Finn got, the more the knife of guilt twisted in my gut. I plugged him into a television show and snuck outside on the porch for some quiet reflection.
Own it, I thought. You don't feel like being a Mom today. Just let it be what it is. Let it go.
My counselor's words echoed in my head. I'm human. Being a mother doesn't trump my own feelings, frustrations and desires. Just do the best you can, and wait it out.
I woke up in a cold sweat, and ran to the bathroom to check my teeth, make sure it was just a dream.
My hands were shaking as I Googled 'dreams about missing teeth'. The answer left me cold: Tooth loss dreams are symbolic of the deepest fears human beings have.
Yesterday's feelings of guilt, inadequacy and frustration stirred the beast that lies within me. It didn't trigger any active cravings or thoughts of drinking, but it woke up that deep rooted, fearful part of me that feels undeserving of my kids' love.
When I opened my eyes this morning, my first sight was Finn's sleeping profile; he had climbed into our bed at some point during the night.
I waited for the fear. It didn't come.
Today is a new day.