11:29 pm
(OK, guys. Here was my post from this weekend, which I took down almost immediately after putting it up. I’m just going to be blunt: sometimes, I feel like soberites often try to sugarcoat this shit. It’s rarely revealed, the nitty fucking gritty of this struggle–which is why I started this blog over three years ago.
You know, I still struggle on a daily basis–with the little things, mostly, and not all of them are in any way sobriety-related. That being said, being sober can still suck ass! I get tired of not going out and having “real” fun. I still have trouble making friends. I still do feel like I’m missing out on holidays–yes, of course, I can have fun without wine now, but…there will always be this hole, this self-consciousness, and for me, this seriousness that I can cover up for others, but that I feel on the inside when I go out sober.
Anyway, here you go. I hope this post helps you if you are feeling cray and battling a craving that is brought on my a mood swing, depression, anxiety, thinking about the past, or in general, just wanting what you haven’t got.)
Today was a bad day. A really fucking shitty day. And, even I can see how stupid that makes me seem, or sound. Of course, I am grateful. I am healthy, have all my hair and limbs. I am here, having successfully moved, bought a car, and made it through 11 weeks of ups and downs at work, with the roommate (I am moving soon), with the desert climate (I am not a fan).
The sun is shining. I was not in the horrible plane crash this morning. I can run–I did run today–and don’t have to use walking sticks because I have, for instance, MS (I saw a man today with sticks who looked like he could have been in the early stages of MS, and it made me grateful that I can still go jogging). I think about these things; I’m not trying to be flippant or mean. Yes, I am grateful, and yes, I know this was just a bad day and it will be better after just going to sleep (please, God, let me zonk out for 12 hours, and not 4). It’s a strange life, and I feel for all of us.
But, sometimes the reality is: Life can seem really fucking LAME sober. There, I said it.
At 3.5 years, I still resist making friends; I still don’t want to dress up for Halloween and go out SOBER; and just once, once, I would love to not be so fucking conscious all the time.
This shit sucks. This shit sucks. Being sober SUCKS.
THERE.
But, drinking is NOT an option. It is not a solution. So, what is?
Sitting with it for hours, the whole day even, until it passes. Until I no longer feel like crying. Until I can see the forest through the trees and reaffirm to myself that NO, I don’t have to live in the suburbs doing a “meaningless” job forever–and I probably won’t. Until my belly and lungs and head don’t feel pinched and cramped and burning. Until the “drinking brain” is not stronger than the “thinking brain.”
Until all that happens, I will just sit here–or, drive around, or go running, or just get another coffee (because binging on caffeine won’t precipitate a mood crash, right?). I will not do anything until it passes. I will NOT react to the drinking brain, which is SO strong right now, which is almost drowning out the nearly inaudible peeps of my thinking brain. I will just SIT HERE UNTIL IT PASSES.
Why? BECAUSE DRINKING IS NOT AN OPTION. It used to be, when it still worked. Now? It will only leave me feeling much worse tomorrow, in a world of actual pain.
(Remember about this time last year? You drank that one time last October, for similar reasons–treading over a well-worn path, ambling down memory lane…and then, habitually reacting to past lives and emotions you were sure you had extinguished. And, remember how you felt the next day? Oh, yes. Never again, remember? I have to say, if I only feel like drinking once per year, I’m doing pretty damn awesome, right? YES. I recognize that, and that makes me feel strong, but also frustrated: why is this still happening? Why is it coming back, like a dormant virus?)
And, it passes. Might take the whole day, a lot of faking it until I’m making it–tonight, I kind of put on a show for a couple new friends over pizza at a local shop–but that’s what it takes. I thought that was over, that I didn’t have to fake it because I was totally, 100 percent cool with being sober? You know what? It comes and goes, more infrequently the longer you’re sober, thankfully. But, it still comes and goes.
And, this, too, is getting sober. This, too, is staying sober. I mean, I thought by now I’d have my triggers down pat, and my coping mechanisms in place. And, for the most part I do. Except when I don’t, and I find myself doing all the following things, that are triggers and that, my friends, I recommend you NOT DO:
not making plans, even though I am tired, for the holiday weekend; reacting instead of pro-acting when it comes to party invites (that entails forcing myself out of my comfort zone but also simply accepting that it takes time to make new friends when you move somewhere new); putting so much emphasis on an arbitrary day that someone said should be “fun” but that really makes a lot of people feel stressed, or lonely, or lame; stalking ex-friends on FB; fucking continuously checking FB and seeing NOTHING but kid pics and smiling faces; driving around instead of just parking and doing something; driving around in the dark, alone (I used to do this a lot when I lived north), LOOKING instead of just BEING. Lurking.
Lurking. Like, looking in windows to see who’s inside and what they’re all doing. Instead of focusing on ME, on what I’m doing. It’s a version of “keeping up with the Joneses,” and you know what? It’s not only a trigger, it’s a huge life-wasting distraction. And, it’s been a while since I felt like I was lurking, but ever since I’ve been here, I’ve noticed myself falling back into my own trap.
…
Deep breaths. The night is here, and I am really glad for that. I’ll probably just go to sleep. There will be plenty of time tomorrow to regain your patience, your footing, your perspective, DDG. YOU GOT THIS. And, thank GOD, I will be able to do that tomorrow because not only will I be well rested, I will be sober. Sure, I’ll have missed out on something–costumes, watching drunk people fall down, listening to drunk people get into nonsensical fights with their boyfriends and cry on the phone sitting on some random stoop at midnight–but it’s not the end of the world. What is the biggest bummer, I think, is that I thought I had long since left behind caring about this stuff.
Love to all. Thanks for reading, curse words and all!
Drunky Drunk Girl 
We want to hear it!
Haha…I posted it again. Enjoy? (feeling better, though, thank goodness)
I’m glad you are feeling better.
I’ve been lurking in the sober blogosphere for the better part of two years now and this is the only time I’ve felt compelled to comment on a post. I have to let you know that your story resonates with me in a way that’s impossible to put into words. But I’m going to try…so strap in and get ready for a wall of text!
When I first stumbled across your blog I devoured it. Every post. Every word. I read it the way I drink. I couldn’t read it fast enough, there was never enough, I wanted the posts and your pain and my pain to go on forever so I could be assured there would always be someone to understand.
You were so eloquent, so in touch with the loneliness that accompanies a life spent seeking obliteration. I had found my drinking soul mate. I’m not proud to say that I was as elated when you stumbled as when you succeeded.
I felt vindicated in my own life because you kept wrestling with the tough questions and coming up empty, just as I had. “AA meetings just aren’t working!” “Why can’t I ever drop the mask?” “How can I know plenty of other people feel this way and still feel so alone?” “When am I going to feel in control of my life? My sobriety? My career? My relationships?”
I demanded a rational explanation for my irrational behavior. Something or someone has to be at the root of why I’m actively killing myself. The answer couldn’t be that I’ve spent the last 15 years ashamed and angry just out of fear.
But you know this. You do. You play the good brain/bad brain conversations over and over in your head but inside you know. There are no answers to the questions you think you have. Only more questions. You need to love yourself the way that I love you. The way that anyone who has followed your journey over the years loves you. Without judgment and without regret.
There’s no denying it’s a struggle. A day in/day out grind. But there are moments of pure ecstasy and terrible pain that can only happen to you. Because that’s life. That’s your life.
Someday I imagine that you will have become so gentle and nurturing with yourself and your ever-whirring mind that you will cease to post at all because it will have lost all meaning for you. On that very same day I hope that I don’t check up on you because it will have lost all meaning for me.
Until that day, then.
Love,
Robb
Wow, Robb. I guess I have to say, thank you so much for the wonderful comment (and for not letting me take this post down, which I was going to do until I read your comment!)! Haha. Yeah…life is life is life, and there is no getting around it. You can be angry at it, grateful for it, indifferent on some days, totally numb on others. But, you’ll never exactly have the questions, and never the answers. And, that’s part of why we drink–maybe a good part of why everyone drinks (or obliterates in whatever way suits them). Fear? Sure. But there’s a lot of other stuff that evolves out of “fear”–which is what people are trying to elucidate. Like, OK, there is this concept of fear, but how does it play out in my daily life? That’s why and how we drink–and why and how we stop.
I’m not sure how to feel at this point about this blog. It does seem like whenever I post these days, it’s because my mind is whirring and I’m frustrated and angry at myself for not being able to control it. And I know full well that stopping the “whir”–and not dwelling on these thoughts–is key to moving outside/above the desire to drink. However, in this post, I’m just trying to show readers that this, too, is how it works–you can struggle one night, and then get back to your otherwise solid, strong sober life the next day.
I will say that I love this post. I am also almost 3.5 years sober, and I feel the exact same way. I struggle badly this time of year. I want to go out on Halloween, and drink wine on Thanksgiving, and have drinks on Christmas eve, and New Years, but Nope! I really can’t. I have posted similar posts in the past and have gotten many compliments about being open and honest about sobriety, and I have to agree. I love seeing that sobriety isn’t all glitter shitting rainbows, because it’s NOT. We have to work at this every single day. If we let our guards down for ONE day, this is where it leads (at least for me). I get so tired of having my guard up all the time. I miss fun, and not caring, and all that. However, it wasn’t like that for me. It was ruining my life slowly. I still sometimes don’t see it, and try to rationalize that I didn’t have a problem. It’s scary, but a day to day process. I just take it day by day, especially this time of year. That’s all I can do..
Hang in there.
Good to hear from you! Thanks for this–it helps to know that I’m not alone, and you’re so right, it ruins things, not makes them better!
I know somewhere in my archives I have a Shitty,Shitty Day Post. I should re-post it periodically because after 4.5 years sober it still rings true. I miss drinking! Some days more than others. Some days, not at all, thankfully. But there are still days when being sober is not as good. It just isn’t. I know that the drinking people are having a better time than me, I know that they appear to be more fun to others and more like-able, because they are. Yes, they are having a better day than me. But I am having a better life than I could when I was drinking. I think it’s so important that others who are struggling for sobriety or have reached sobriety have posts like this to read. We need to recognize that sometimes we may miss drinking, it doesn’t mean we’re doing something wrong or we’re not committed to our sobriety. We don’t all live in la-la land and think sobriety is the pinnacle of existence every day of our life. But we stay sober because we know it offers the best life for us. Thank you, for this post, Drunky-drunk Girl.
So true, so true, so true–thanks for your comment!
I want to hear your struggle and your anger. So many people who’ve gotten sober and talk about how happy it is – I was and still often am angry and mourning the loss of my red wine as a social lubricant and celebration booster. Glad I’m not alone.
Me, too–thanks for your comment! It’s just…nice…to hear from people who feel the same way (at least sometimes).
I relapsed recently, after 400 days then tried again and failed. Today is my new day one! I really struggle with how to have fun sober, and occasionally how to unwind. That seriousness you mention, I get that.
Thanks for this post. It helps x
Go, you! I remember, I, too, drank after about six months in–it was because of these social triggers (I feel alone, I don’t know how to have fun, I must be the biggest loser ever, why don’t I have any “real” friends yet, etc.!). Pick yourself up, dust off, and remember: drinking doesn’t ever really solve those problems/issues, it just puts them off; puts off figuring out how to have fun sober, how to unwind without sucking down liquid crazy. 🙂 HUGS. You got this. Start over, get back on sober horsey, and ride into the quiet, sometimes boring, but never hungover sunset! 😉
You know what I think? I think if you and I were neighbors we would be having a load of sober fun. I’m so fucking fun now that I don’t drink. And it’s real. Real fun. Real me remembering what I did last night. Do I want a drink at times? Yeah… who doesn’t. And it’s still the most fucking stupid idea I’ve ever had. (Sorry about the expletives,, but they seem to fit the mood of my sober-perception. Alcohol cannot have me any more. EVER.) Thanks for the amazing post. Lisa
HUGS! Thank you for being in my corner…!!!
I love this and I love that you posted it. I am new to sober blogging. In fact, I am not even sober yet. I have been trying to get sober for 3 years now. You have been blogging about it as long as I have been trying it. That makes me feel sick about myself. I should have started blogging sooner. — But in all honesty — I LOVE THIS POST. It makes me feel connected with you because you are telling it like it is. Being sober sucks. I only made it 49 days before quitting my journey. I didn’t get the chance to know what it’s like being sober a year or two or three…. But even if it sucks, even if it sucks just one day a year, or a week or even a month… it has to be better than not being sober. It has to be better than waking up with a hangover. It has to be better than what I am doing right now. So I applaud you and your success.
Being sober now only sucks like, once a year. Seriously. IT GETS BETTER. This is what sober is: you are so strong in being sober that you aren’t really anymore, you just don’t drink. And, all the good that effortlessly comes with no drama! HUGS. Just keep not drinking…
Thank you for your honesty. Holidays are always a tough time when sober; I’m glad you shared your feelings and eventually found some solace. I totally relate to your rant on the “small things” by the way… I still struggle socially, I’m still self-conscious as hell, and after 2 years since the last drink I really wish I was more ‘normal’ lol. But, as a former sponsor once told me, sometimes these quirks are good ‘reminders’ of where we come from. I.e. If I’m really craving a drink, maybe that’s just God’s way of reminding me… “hey, btw, ur an alcoholic. Don’t forget!”
I was a fellow wine-drinker myself so I’m glad I stumbled upon your blog. Hugs to you and keep staying strong. ❤