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Another mass shooting. What is wrong with this picture?

12:15 pm

Yeah, it’s a little fuzzy, n’est-ce pas?

I won’t ramble for long, but here’s my take.

Here, in “USA, Inc.”, we have issues. We glorify violence, and honor competition. We promote rampant consumerism. This leads to alienation and isolation, anxiety and depression, to name JUST A FEW. It sort of makes you want to drink. Or, shoot people. I’m not being in any way ironic.

I have NO idea (mainly because the mainstream media chooses not to delve into the mental health issue since it makes a less compelling story than, let’s say, “evil-doings,” but I digress) what was going on inside the head of the shooter, but let me tell you something: there was a point–more than one, honestly–during my middle and high school years that were, actually, low enough to make me contemplate killing of beings, namely myself. The self-loathing and anger that resulted from my feeling ostracized/ridiculed at school for being a good student; for being from a family who weren’t, to be frank, hicks; for simply being creative/artistic (let’s not even go into sexual preferences and/or orientation)–it led me to binge eat and then, binge drink. I couldn’t deal, and most of the time, I didn’t know HOW to deal aside from writing and dancing my emotions out. Unfortunately, I was too inhibited to dance in front of others. Fortunately, I clung to my belief in my grades as my ticket out, as well as my writing–my life raft.

I don’t know what’s going on, really, with today’s kids, but by the time I got to my junior year of college, I had already gone through several major episodes of depression, been through the emotional mindfuck that is bulimia, and likely harbored some serious sociopathic leanings that never materialized, due to simply internalizing my hatred for the people who hated me (or so I thought). I was SO overwhelmed by a sense of “there is something seriously wrong with this place” that I HAD to escape. And I did, to France. Anything to get me away from the billboards, the commercials, the emptiness I felt at having everything and having nothing (and I came from a lower middle class family!). I felt suffocated by what I still see to be the ills of our society, which have NOTHING, really, to do with the “freedom” to own guns (there’s a great article in The New Yorker on the history of the first amendment’s “right to bear arms” clause):

1. Consumerism. The idea that things, instead of experiences, people, and places, will make you happy and/or content; that happiness and contentment, like EVERYTHING worth having, can be had by anything but hard work–attained over a period of years, if not an entire lifetime.
2. Glorification of violence. We can see it in everything from our movies to our wars, this “we’re-gonna-kick-your-head-in-cuz-we-can” mentality. (When I volunteered clearing rubble in [beautiful island] after the [natural disaster], the Brits and Aussies nicknamed the heaviest sledgehammer “‘Merica” because it could “smash a lot of shit and leave a mess behind.”)
3. Glorification of competition, egotism, greed, etc. Why aren’t more “feminine” ideologies instilled in us throughout our lives, like cooperation, conciliation, nonviolent conflict resolution? I guess I’m generalizing here, but how many of you would argue against the fact that most (all?) of these mass shootings have been perpetrated my men, and wars are declared mainly (exclusively?) by male leaders?

I wish it was different, but when I left “USA, Inc.” in 1994 for Tours and then Paris, France, I figuratively never looked back. Now, I’m living in [beautiful island], which I might consider a second-world country but would certainly agree that it’s NOT the mainland–and I feel like I can breathe, like I might never return to “that place.”

Anyhoo…how does this pertain to drinking? Well, all I can say is, I’ve never experienced this kind of grief, so I have no idea what I would do. BUT, I hope that I would not pick up. I mean, drinking almost seems pointless in situations like this; which, in a sense, is a testament to its futility in the face of confronting the things life throws our way.

I wish peace to all the families involved in this shiteous crime. That is all.

Tags: alcoholic, alcoholism, anxiety, binge drinking, competition, consumerism, death, depression, drinking, grief, guns, mass shooting, psychology, recovery, Sandy Hook, sobriety, social anxiety, societal problems, society, sociology, violence, wine, women

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Categories Addiction, Alcoholism, Anxiety, Binge drinking, Current events, Death, Depression, Life, Psychology, Recovery, Sobriety, Sociology

Am I punishing myself by staying sober?

6 Dec

1:21 am

Uh, talk about a heavy question. Then again, AA is heavy, and that’s where I heard someone pose this question recently in response to a death in her immediate circle.

Hmm…

Yes, in a sense, you are punishing yourself. You don’t get to obliviate, and that sucks. It’s a choice to live through the pain, or at least not circumvent it at will. However, in the grand scheme of things, you and us both know that you aren’t. Learning to cope with death–with pain and with grief–is necessary to live. Avoiding moving through it to the other side is escapism, not reward. Sobriety is the reward, as without it, you just keep going back to square one; you keep yourself in the pain, instead of moving past it. You cry, you drink, you cry because you drank. You wake up and wonder why the pain is still there. That sounds like punishment to me! (Easier said than done, especially when I’m not the one grieving a death, *especially* while sober.)

My first experience with grief came after the [beautiful island] [natural disaster]. I had times there–amazing, life-changing times. I had friends there, and some of those friends were crushed to death. After the [natural disaster], I had horrible sadness, confusion, and bouts of frantic anxiety–usually at night, in my bed. What would happen to me when I died? Would I float off into endless black nothingness? How could life be considered so precious when it was made of such a frail mold? If it could be taken so easily, how could (can) it really be so valuable? I couldn’t fall asleep at night, and would sometimes wake with feelings of being smothered.

I got through it, and for better or for worse, I don’t really think of death as bad anymore. Sure, it freaks me out, but death is. Death just is. I will die; the question is, will I accept this and then, how will I live my life? As a friend told me years ago, when I was in my early 20s and feeling bogged down by my first-world choices to the point of being depressed about life: Good thing it’s short, eh? Right, thanks.

In other words, drinking stalls your process and wastes your time. And, considering how few moments we have here, and how difficult it can be to learn to grasp and cherish them while sober…even if you want to drink, can you really, truly afford to? Life is short, and learning its lessons takes time. Why not start now, end quicker, and get out of class while the sun is still shining?

Going on 8 weeks tomorrow, and then (my second time around) 60 days this coming Monday! And, I’m NOT stopping this train. Drinking is simply not in my cards these days; sure, I’d like to, but when I re-think it, I don’t want to waste the hours drinking and being hung over. I have better things to do, things that provide me with much longer-term and substantial buzz than wine. Plus, I know that drinking wine after this long of being sober–I fell off ye olde wagon, remember?–will not feel good; the buzz’ll feel weird, and I likely won’t have a good time, mentally (static brain) and emotionally (downs for the first two glasses, blunted ups for however long it’ll take me to black out, which won’t be more than 2-4 more glasses). It’s not worth my valuable time anymore. Go, me.

(Still, wouldn’t it be nice…NO! Down, wolf, down.) 😉

Tags: AA, alcoholic, Alcoholics Anonymous, alcoholism, anxiety, binge drinking, death, drinking, mortality, recovery, sobriety, wine, women

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Categories AA, Addiction, Alcoholism, Anxiety, Binge drinking, Death, Mortality, Recovery, Sobriety

AA: it’s not just about me! Say what?

29 Nov

9:06 pm

Yup. You heard me. Who IS this person, and where did you stash Drunky Drunk Girl? (Btw, I just cleaned my trunk, so no blood stains, please…)

I know, I know; I can be VERY self-oriented. I’m introverted, I’m a writer by passion and by trade, and I’m very analytical. I tend to be in my head a LOT, thinking my thoughts and thinking how awesome they are. Ahem. They are, aren’t they? 😉

Today, I went “back” to AA after about a week wondering and ruminating about what purpose it was serving in my sobriety (of 7 weeks today!). Why? Well, after all your comments — which I SO appreciated — I realized that one, I have some great, grounding friends online and that impressed me a heck of a lot more than a few douchebags in AA making it seem like they’re the only game in town; and two, well, as I told L. tonight, as she and myself and two other women were walking up the steps of the church downtown after the meeting, “I missed you guys.”

Yes, I missed my AA peeps! I missed hearing about their lives, what they were up to, whether they were still sober for crying out loud! I missed checking in with them; so far, they’re all wholeheartedly sincere in their desire to help little old me who, up until a few weeks ago, was a complete stranger to them.

Most importantly, one of my favorite women, C. (L.’s sponsee), fell off the wagon yesterday and ended up going to the hospital last night (I think she was seeking anti-anxiety meds and they hesitated and gave her something for her blood pressure. Which is bizarre, imho.). Anyway, she and I met about a month ago at the Tuesday night women’s meeting. We’re originally from the same part of the country, and we bonded over the fact that we were both new to the island, both at our first meeting (relatively speaking), AND, both had about the same length of sobriety when we met.

This afternoon at the beach (rough life, I know), I heard that *someone* had fallen off the wagon via a text from E., another lady friend who has about 17 years and is VERY cool in how practical she is toward AA and sobriety. She gets it, as far as I’m concerned. Anyway, it ended up being C., and it sounded bad. This woman does “John, Jack, and Jose,” and based on a short conversation with her, I could tell that many drinks were drank. Many, MANY drinks.

When she came into the meeting late tonight — we were all expecting her, but I didn’t text her out of respect, I suppose — my heart lurched! She looked awful; haggard, tweaked, and frail. Tired. Hungry. Lost. I actually felt a lump rise in my throat and had to look down, to hide the tears that briefly welled in my eyes. This IS a disease, I thought. It really struck me then: C. is not trying, at least consciously, to do this to herself.

I know that I have been quite childish when it comes to ranting and raving about AA. (Of course, I have; I needed to be.) I realized a while ago that meetings help everyone, and only everyone, if EVERYONE shows up! It was, however, a theoretical concept until today, when I heard about C., and then tonight, when I saw her. I can’t promise to come to meetings for her, but I can promise to come as often as I can. I can text her, call her, respond even if she sounds “OK.” I can make myself more available. I realize that part of my problem is isolating myself; it’s partly my nature as an introvert, partly habitual due to years of doing just that out of feeling insecure and worthless, to a certain degree.

At the beach today, as I was thinking about C. and about my own role in “not getting AA,” I actually picked up the Big Book and started reading it. NO, my friends, I have never even read the damn thing! And you know what? Some of what I read is not unreasonable! Especially holding onto anger/resentments, and drinking over them. I’ve done that. I lived in that, for a long time, even though I thought I wasn’t. I still live in that, even though I’m not drinking anymore.

I could even tolerate the God stuff, mainly because the God stuff seems to fully address the fact that most of us aren’t born with a concept of God, and are sort of freaked out by it. (Jesus freaks need not apply. JUST KIDDING.) However, the Big Book directly addresses the fact that we are humans, on a planet, in the middle of the cosmos, trying to perceive a reality that may or may not exist! There is a creative force, whatever that might be; even if there isn’t, who are we to fully grasp this? Anyway, it’s all sort of written like that in the Big Book. Huh, I thought. Maybe I can dig this? Some of this is precisely why I drank…

I think AA appears outdated; it’s why a lot of people, including myself, shun it. What a horrible thing we’ve been taught, really, which is to disregard the past, our elders, our ancestors. Their knowledge, their having gone before, their practiced living — why do we toss it away? It’s a problem in American society, especially among “white people.” I won’t go too far into that, but it’s a toxic byproduct of our culture, and it manifests in ways big and small, conscious or not.

But, I digress. I hope C. realizes that drinking just fucks EVERYTHING up, and that it is no longer working for her. Unfortunately, I can’t make her not drink. I can’t solve her anxiety problems. What I can do, though, is be there for her if she calls, and show up, even when she doesn’t.

Tags: 12 steps, AA, alcoholic, Alcoholics Anonymous, alcoholism, anxiety, Big Book, binge drinking, drinking, God, recovery, sobriety, wine, women

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Categories 12 Steps, AA, Addiction, Alcoholism, Anxiety, Binge drinking, God, Recovery, Sobriety

Sex and sobriety — it’s actually possible?

12 Nov

5:29 pm

Yes, indeed. It actually IS.

SAY WHAT?

Without going into too much detail — har har — I have a few minutes before yet ANOTHER PAIN IN MY ASS MEETING takes up the hours that I somewhat dread anyway, between 4:30 and 7; so, I thought I’d say hello and, um, dump some heavy thoughts on you. Yes, I’m good at that.

As has become apparent to me, most people who drink alcoholically are also doing it to medicate, avoid, or in general, escape. For me, I used booze. I used it for many things: to not feel bored, to not feel sad, to avoid confronting existential problems, like, What should I do with my life? and, How am I going to spend the next few minutes? and, If I spend them wrong, does that mean I’m a loser? or, Man, I don’t know what to do first, maybe I’ll drink to avoid deciding? or, I don’t know how to have fun or take a break, so I’ll drink to avoid dealing with figuring that out. And, on and on.

I realized, long before I quit drinking, that I had a very healthy fear of intimacy; sex, of course, but relationships, in general. I used booze to both avoid them and avoid having to deal with this fear while sober. As I discovered, you get exactly what you’re looking for. I was afraid of dating, of having sex sober, so I drank and got what I really wanted: pathetic, drunk sex with partners who were NOWHERE NEAR relationship material. (Then again, neither was I, and maybe that was also a variable in the equation!)

I have only dated three men in my life, long-term; the last actual relationship I was in was oh, about 8 years ago. Yes, I’ve been single for most of my 30s, mainly out of fear of being known; out of fear of someone — who is much cooler and better and more awesome, of course — finding out just how boring, or fidgety, or indecisive, or lazy, or uncreative, or [insert your favorite diss here] I really am. I avoided not just relationships, but sex. I simply couldn’t get myself to do it, sober. Too close, too intimate. What if we locked eyes and I had to reveal a feeling? What if he expected to have a, gasp!, conversation with me, sober? What would I say? Would he be interested? What if I was depressed, or unsure, or crazy, or kooky, but not his kind of kooky? Would he be OK with that? What if (IF? LOL) he was boring, or shallow, or clueless, or lame, or whatever, and I had to pretend to like him because I was lonely; or because I wanted to give someone a chance in order to feel less “strange bird”-esque for preferring to spend my nights — and days — alone, doing my own thing, at ease and deriving pleasure from that?

Best to just be drunk, to avoid it all, and then hung over, to excuse myself quietly.

What a horrible way to live, eh? And, what about me?, I ask, as I read and remember the self-berating monologue that must have been going on repeat in the back of my mind for years. YEARS.

I had a lot of social anxiety growing up, and it manifested in extreme shyness, in overstudying, in spending most of my non-school-related time alone, writing or reading; and then, sort of following my twin (or, did he follow me?) to the same university; and then, finally, discovering binge eating and binge drinking as a way to avoid it all AND make it feel better at the same time. Fast forward from my 20s to my 30s; I kept drinking the wine, and left all the other stuff behind. Or, so I thought.

Funny thing is, I had a LOT of intimate, and amazing, relationships with women over the years. And, with men who were not men I wanted to date or have sex with. So, it wasn’t all bad, but it got a lot WORSE when I started to drink to ridiculous excess, put work and career success way ahead of love, and isolate.

These days, I’m basking in the fruit of my labors: I ended up entering a relationship with a friend who I’ve known for 10 years, and I feel safe. I don’t know if he knows how difficult it was for me to basically feel the fear and do it anyway, but I’m glad I did. I don’t think there’s a magic bullet; like everything sober, it takes personal work to talk myself out of actually believing that it matters when there’s an “awkward” moment. I don’t think sober folks deal with anything different, either; they may have just learned to confront love and sex earlier than I did. Who knows?

Anyway, I could go ON and ON about this, but I’ll stop for now. Off to a new meeting. I’m a bit…anxious? I’ve never been to this one, and well, I haven’t heard much about it. My gut says that it’ll be weird, and awkward, but hey, Weird and Awkward are my closest friends these days and I promised them yesterday that I’d come out and play again today, so…

Bye, y’all! 32 days, btw!

Tags: alcoholic, alcoholism, anxiety, binge drinking, depression, drinking, recovery, relationships, sex, sobriety, social anxiety, wine, women

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Categories Addiction, Alcoholism, Anxiety, Binge drinking, Depression, Recovery, Sex and Relationships, Sobriety, Social Anxiety

Settling in…

14 Oct

1:26 am

The past two days have been…difficult. However, I’m strong, must move forward, and must hit the return key on the autopilot program if necessary. I am not drinking, period.

I drank on the plane and then with dinner on Thursday night, and while Thursday and Friday were productive and great (it’s really nice to see my boyfriend again!), today felt ROUGH. After spending most of the day shopping for new household items, food, and general stuff, we came home and had a quiet night here. I went for a short run and saw the most stunning “shooting star.” It looked like a ball of fire slowly streaking across the northern sky, slow enough that I thought it was an aircraft. Please don’t abduct me, I thought to myself. Even though I’m only on Day 2 (Day 3 today), I still want to win this game called sobriety.

I feel happy to be here in [beautiful island where I now live] — I feel at home, for the most part. Yet, I’ve also got this just-went-off-to-college feeling, which is strange, since I correlate this with leaving family, the nest. Isn’t this my family now, my nest? Apparently, it’s going to take time. I think giving up my place, my “single life,” my independence in a way, well, it’s left me feeling a bit uncertain. Apprehensive. Scared, even! I know it takes a while to settle in somewhere, and even longer to make friends. I just have to have patience and not let my brain get the better of me.

Tonight, I really wanted to shut it down with wine. The “it” is not the anxiety, per se; I feel like I just can’t think. Like, all the grey matter has been sucked out of my brain by a medium-sized vacuum cleaner. Even my writing is stilted. ARG. Maybe I simply need to stop putting so much pressure on myself and treat this next few months like I’ve been treating my time here, as a “temporary vacation” (during which I freelance)?

Anyway, I’m sad about not being able to medicate this feeling away, as it’s very uncomfortable. Little puffs of anxiety, a gloomy sense of lack of direction, a looming fear of what-now and what’s-next. Shit! However, I know intellectually that booze is the last thing I need. So, I resisted a very strong urge tonight, and while it still hasn’t subsided along with this feeling of having no neuronal activity, I’m committing again to 100 percent abstinence. I GOT THIS.

Looking forward to sharing more soon re: the stuff I mentioned the other night.

Day 3 today! (And unfortunately, I have the feeling that the canvas color will be long and tedious, with small pockets of mania, welcome splashes of pure joy, and speckled dots of certainty. Such is life.)

Tags: alcoholic, alcoholism, anxiety, binge drinking, cravings, drinking, moving, sobriety, wine, women

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Categories Addiction, Alcoholism, Anxiety, Binge drinking, Cravings, Moving, Sobriety, Uncategorized

Humming along…is the party over?

25 Sep

1:04 am

Nothing huge going on here. Which, in a sense, is good. Day 4, people.

I’m finally over my hangover (took at least two days; Jesus). I worked a little, and got into it (a little) with my editor (which makes me nervous, mainly because I don’t have that much alternate income at the moment). I checked out some new glasses frames (to recover the ones I broke; I do things like, buy the same version of what I lost, broke, or demolished while blacked out to make me feel like it didn’t happen — am I alone in this neurotic behavior?). I went to my final contact lens fitting. I sank into a mini-depression the past 24 hours but pulled myself out. I activated my superpowers. I managed to offload/sell a lot of my remaining SHIT today, including some kitchenware to a nice Jordanian woman and to a shy French boy; now, it’s just the bed (I’ve got a potential buyer tomorrow, after which, I’ll run to REI and get another sleeping mat). I talked with both my mom and dad and made plans to visit each en route to the [beautiful island where I now live] next month. I oven-baked some pretty awesome potatoes. As I was talking to my dad, I overheard the football game in the background and was like, OK, that’s enough football for me for the season. 😉

I’m ready to move, but I’m also feeling…many things that cause me anxiety. (I would usually drink at this point, for sure.) What, pray tell?

1. The [cold west coast city sex street fair]. While it was refreshing to see everyone celebrating sex so openly, that event stirs up some of my past here and makes me feel quite empty. But, more than that, everyone was fucked up. FUCKED UP. Booze, “G,” “E,” you name it. I was like, I can’t even be here, I’m so sober. I want to be cool with this, but I can’t. I felt so uncomfortable, so square. It was all in my head, and had more to do with the fact that I was there alone — again — but…yeah. Minor, but enough to cause me to overthink, and then, want to drink. I didn’t, though. Seeing people stumbling around in their underwear (literally), in the freezing cold 55-degree weather, barely conscious made me go, Hmm, now THAT does not resemble fun, and I’m really glad I’m not you.

2. I think I often feel judged and unaccomplished by my family. Why aren’t you with man/with child yet? Why have you never brought a guy home to us? Why have you never invited us over and/or cooked for us? (Well, I have, but in the larger sense: why are you not settled down beyond having roommates and dating the wrong guys/no guys?) These are much more likely questions I ask myself, and when they make me feel too scared or nervous, I drink. Drank.

2. The whole brother’s girlfriend thing, which makes me think of both my brothers. Are they happy? Moreover, should I be helping the one (more financially well off) more with banking away some money for my mom? She is on Social Security now, but up until a few weeks ago, she was working. At 66, she’s that uncomfortable with her retirement nest egg (none) that she still HAS (not wants) to work! She has arthritis in her hip and pretty severe osteoporosis, so it’s highly likely we’ll all have to chip in and buy her a home one day soon. Is my “taking some time off for me” a selfish thing to do, when I am 38 and in the prime of my professional earning capacity? It is. And, it bothers me.

The problem is, I TRIED working a “big bucks” job in “the Valley” AGAIN, and I hated it, AGAIN. And, it caused me so much grief to be doing something so passionless that I drank. All the time. Even at work. Doh.

And, now that I’ve gotten away from that life, and tasted something more relaxed…I can barely stomach a return to the grind, even one that’s “fun.” I worry, fret, worry, fret. Am I too old to go back to [cold east coast city] and work in the publishing industry? Do I want to? Can I fake it if I don’t want to? Can I handle it and the stress sans wine? Plus, I don’t want to sit on my ass all day, every day anymore.

I wish it was easy for me to have faith that I can earn a living doing what I’m passionate about. To that end, I can dream. And so, I’ve proactively come up with a few alternate careers to dream about: professional dog walker, cake baker, rare gem collector, field anthropologist, acupuncturist? 😉

I’m excited about moving (and moving on), and I don’t have to think about being productive, financially and professionally — not yet. I DON’T HAVE TO — right now. But, I will, in December or January or February, or whenever the money starts running out and I look at my grad school student loan debt and think, Oh, FUCKING HELLO. Or, I turn around and there it is again, the need to earn savings for myself, my future, my mother’s future…

It’s SO MUCH EASIER to avoid this fretting and worrying with wine. It makes me sad, in a very vague way. Life isn’t happy-go-lucky. The party IS over.

Or, is it?

Tags: alcoholic, alcoholism, anxiety, binge drinking, drinking, goals, moving, sobriety, wine, women

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Categories Addiction, Alcoholism, Anxiety, Binge drinking, Goals, Moving, Sobriety, Triggers, Uncategorized

Falling off the wagon..so YOU DON’T HAVE TO

21 Sep

2:31 pm

For real. The only good that can come of falling off (where art thou, sparkle-toothed unicorn?) the wagon A THIRD TIME is so that you, my dear readers and friends, don’t have to.

DON’T GO THERE. DRINKING SOLVES NOTHING. IT IS A TRICK OF THE MIND. IT IS A WASTE OF TIME. YOU DON’T NEED IT AND IT TASTES LIKE MOUTHWASH.

I think I just felt overwhelmed by my cravings, the voice in my head, and the resisting. I felt tired of resisting. So, I hurriedly uncorked a bottle and drank it. All of it. I was barely remembering things (didn’t take much, which is scary — what is wrong with my brain if it only takes three (huge) glasses of red wine to black me out?) when I ran (literally, I’m guessing) to the corner store to buy another. I did not finish that one, mainly because I must have passed out. I don’t remember.

Ahh. LOVELY hangover. Yes, I remember this feeling. Oh, yes. Drinking two Diet Cokes and weeping about my upcoming death. I remember this feeling. Stumbling around, finding a demolished pair of (expensive) glasses on the floor, checking my wallet to make sure that nothing’s missing, seeing wine stains on my floor and table. Yes, I remember this! Crawling to the bathroom only to heave myself back to bed. Yes. Ringing bells? Oh, yes. Crouching over my stove as I make ramen, forcing it down because I know I need something in there but nothing fills the hole and nothing will the entire day. Check. Crying some more and whining and wailing on the phone to my boyfriend who, thankfully, thinks nothing less of me and even thinks I deserve better. Yup. MISSING my fucking deadline because I can barely think, let alone write what I need to write. Done and done.

Do you remember that feeling? Is it coming back? Oh, yes.

I don’t even care about the fact that I missed my second 5 weeks (would have been 35 days today) again. What bothers me most is that my brain is simply depressed — not even sad, just void of feeling or thoughts. And, all I want is for the day — and hangover — to be over with. Waiting it out is all and will be all I’ll be doing today.

Wow, drinking really fucks up my mental landscape. What was a lovely painting with serene (pink) clouds has now become a grey wash of confusion, suicidal ideation, and nonsense. ? WTF, drinking?

(And, why do I have a memory of the corner store owner standing next to me, helping me pick out my wine? Was I standing there, in my druken stupor, unable to do it myself? Or, was he just being friendly and helpful? NO IDEA.)

Key points of this latest round?

I realize now that I don’t need to go it alone, that I DO NEED HELP, and that I need to ask for it.

I realize now that I shouldn’t isolate myself to the point of mental breakdown.

I realize now that what I wanted last night was escape — from the obsession to drink, I think, more than the overwhelming thoughts and feelings about life and people, in general.

I realize now that I USE WINE to escape and that one, I need new coping mechanisms, two, wine is my vehicle/tool, and three, there really shouldn’t be anything to “escape from,” if I’m doing it right.

I need help. But first, I need to get through this hangover.

Readers, if you’re thinking of falling off, just come here and read this. I have done it for you so that you don’t have to! It’s like riding a bike — no, it’s like falling off. It hurts every time and the feeling is never different! FUCK THAT BIKE! STAY ON THE WAGON.

Tags: alcoholic, alcoholism, anxiety, binge drinking, blackout, coping mechanism, coping skills, cravings, depression, Diet Coke, drinking, hangover, headache, hung over, panic, sense of purpose, sobriety, wine, women

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Categories Addiction, Alcoholism, Anxiety, Binge drinking, Blackout, Cravings, Depression, Hangover, Sobriety

Heading to the UI office… Happy Monday!

4 Sep

10:27 am

Ugh. I know, I’m a big ‘ole bag of shit to be bitching so much, but I really, REALLY don’t want to go. I just don’t want to be irritated or aggravated, as it’ll make me want to drink more than I have been wanting to during the past few days!

I am collecting unemployment (UI) — who isn’t? No wonder this country’s one broke-ass ****** — and I got my first and last extension a few months ago. BUT, I missed the reassessment interview, which they sprung on me and which is mandatory, so now I have to go and ask them to resked it. No biggie, but of course, bureaucratic (that’s a weird spelling, but it’s correct!) nonsense reigns and when I called the local office last week they said to call the 1-800 number, but when I called the 1-800 number, I couldn’t get through (like literally, the voice on the other end said, Our line is busy, hang up and call back), so I went on the web site, and the web site says that the only way to resked is in fact, NOT through the web site or 1-800 number, but through your local “one-stop” office.

Ugh!

Oh, well. I got one word: Don’t make me brang out the New Yorker on someone’s ass.

Tags: alcoholic, alcoholism, anxiety, binge drinking, drinking, sobriety, UI, unemployment insurance, wine, women

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Categories Alcoholism, Anxiety, Sobriety, Triggers

Another lethargic day…

23 Aug

5:15 pm

Maybe I need to change my diet? Take a nap? The thought of doing any work makes me feel anxious and makes my head feel like it’s inflating more and and more with air. I wonder if I have a migraine? Doubt it; it’s not as much pain as I feel nauseated and dizzy, like I’m sea sick. And, I can’t seem to concentrate on typing this, let alone slog through my anxiety over flying “home” to [cold west coast city] (where I haven’t been living since June) and working, for real, on science writing stuff. Takes a brain. Don’t have a brain.

When I get back, I think I’m going to go on a strict diet of low-sugar, no meat. I’ve been drinking WAY too much Diet Coke since I quit drinkin’, and honestly, I think it’s worse — much worse — for me than the loads of wine I was taking in. Granted, the wine gives me liver problems, steals brain cells, and makes my belly fat, but…what the fuck does Diet Coke do? I know for SURE that it’s making me addicted to it, and to sugar, in a way that feels (well, yesterday it felt) almost “diabetic.” The urge to eat a sugary muffin yesterday before I felt like I was about to pass out was startingly strong. I can’t help but crave sweets now that I’m not drinking, and it’s been taking all my willpower to eat well and not replace the binge drinking with the occasional binge eating. All in all, I’ve had a very healthful summer, but lately, I’ve fallen off the wagon when it comes to moderating my diet soda intake as well as working out. Can’t WAIT to get that goin’ on again when I get back. Yoga, jogging, hiking, and possibly some swimming…same as here, but on the regular. And more of it.

Jesus, my head hurts. Feels swollen inside, is making me want to close or squint my eyes in order to see straight. Hmm…

Tags: alcoholic, alcoholism, anxiety, artificial sweetener, Diet Coke, drinking, headache, sobriety, wine, withdrawal, women

Comments 2 Comments
Categories Addiction, Alcoholism, Anxiety, Sobriety, Withdrawal

Grateful to be going to bed sober…

19 Aug

1:06 am

So, that’s over. I got the recap from my boyfriend, and apparently, nothing irreversibly horrible happened or was done. Yet, as he explained my bizarre behavior, it once again makes me wonder, what is a blackout? Is it me? I mean, really, is this person me? Is the booze shutting off my brain, or certain parts of it, such that I’m literally no longer me? Or is it turning certain deeper, inhibited parts ON such that I’m actually more myself?

I know I need to just forget and stop saying I’m sorry, but the blackouts and the shit I’ve done during them haunt me. I don’t understand them and therefore, can’t really put them behind me. Plus, when you haven’t really done it — if you don’t remember, it is like it never happened, at least to you — how can you gain any kind of closure?

I know I need to make some decisions and get back to work — what is “work,” though? — but I also need to focus on staying sober. Being around people who are drinking, while not innately bad, just doesn’t make it easier for me to keep on keepin’ on. It makes it that much harder to accept being sober, makes it even more of a pain to continue to resist. I know I need to embrace my fears, indecision, and lack of creativity, which is causing my depression. I know I need to embrace the transitions and changes in my life, a big one learning how to live sober. Like, I don’t know how to approach certain situations, life events, and feelings anymore without booze, whether that be actually drinking it or simply thinking about drinking it. I can’t turn to it anymore to ease my stress and/or insecurities surrounding working as a writer; I can’t turn to it anymore to “fix” my fears and/or uncertainties related to dating, love, family, and relationships/friendships. I gotta start from scratch, and that’s just…well, it’s all just a bit much.

Hence, the four hours of rather painful hiking I forced myself to do today, in my hung over state, through the 95-degree heat.

Anyway, I’m so tired and groggy and feeling like hungover ass, so I’ll sign off. My bf and I are going to an AA meeting at 8 am on the beach tomorrow morning. I’ll def keep ya posted on that…

Tags: alcoholic, alcoholism, anxiety, binge drinking, blackout, depression, drinking, hangover, hung over, sobriety, social anxiety, wine, women

Comments 2 Comments
Categories Addiction, Alcoholism, Anxiety, Binge drinking, Blackout, Depression, Hangover, Social Anxiety

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Drunky Drunk Girl

Am I punishing myself by staying sober?

AA: it’s not just about me! Say what?

Settling in…

Humming along…is the party over?

Falling off the wagon..so YOU DON’T HAVE TO

Heading to the UI office… Happy Monday!

Another lethargic day…

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