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Loosening the reins (not caring), committing fully, or both?

12:11 pm

I know, the past two posts have been about not caring, and I apologize for that.

It’s not exactly “not caring,” it’s more not having the energy to care THAT MUCH about the “whole mess,” as I’ve been referring to my drinking life/getting sober. Life moves on, and well, I have to let some things go in order to make room for others, right? (My brother called me the other day, but I just can’t be bothered; there will be no call back, mainly to preserve my momentum and because, well, I don’t feel like engaging anyone, including my own family, in a passive aggressive relationship. In a nutshell, I just can’t care. I feel bad, sure, but I can’t care about that either.)

(And, this will be a very lame paragraph in an effort to preserve my anonymity, so bear with me:)

I’m going [out of town] tomorrow to check out a graduate program I’m interested in, to check in on my storage unit, to see some friends, to go to the DMV, and to hit the dentist and hair salon (there are salons down here, of course, but you know, creature of habit). I’m thinking (we’ll see tonight, after my Skype chat) of volunteering for about six weeks teaching English on [a neighboring island] this summer. We’re going to [another neighboring island] for my birthday. I’m running, making (some) money, and trying to begin the thought process involved in re-inserting myself back into the “real world” workforce without having a panic attack…

Panic attack? Nah. I know that I’m beyond that kind of thinking. But, drinking? Well, I do have butterflies, mainly because I wonder if I can do this sober? This real life thing? Or, is it just that this all scares me NOW, at this moment, because I basically “hid” on an island for about 18 months (in order to get sober) and now…? Maybe it’s that I KNOW it’ll all unfold smoothly…if and only if I don’t drink? Is it that wolfie’s simply looking for an in here, and I have to put my foot down (on its skull) and close that door?

I admit, I have thought about drinking once I get on the plane. You know? Like, I made it to 70 days again, and damn it, what else is there to do in my old big city but drink?! Drink drank drunk! Sigh. That was my OLD life, I have to keep reminding myself. I have to have the foresight (check; shit would be so disappointing if I wound up back to square one within a day) and courage (um, check?) to believe that I can do it. I just have to take the first step, then the second, then the third…

Almost subconsciously, I alerted the friend who I’ll be crashing with that I was sober. She already knows, but I guess I figured, I better remind her…so that I don’t have an out, you see. Which, the next day, a part of me (wolfie-boy) was like, Aww, damn it, now I really can’t drink if I’ve promised her not to let me! Boo.

Then, it quickly crept up on me, like a fast blush, that I really don’t want to drink. Why? For all the same God damned, motherfucking (yes, I need that ;)) reasons I haven’t been drinkin’ since last June (thick skull): don’t want to get too drunk on the flight and get lost at the airport (or worse); don’t want to show up at my friend’s place drunk and/or angry (or worse); don’t want to sleep until 10 or 11 (uh, 2?), hung over, and mess up my schedule, which has my days packed with activity; don’t want to be THAT girl, who has not only offended and let down her big city peeps, but who wants to prove to them that she really IS changed.

Things are different. I believe it. They are, aren’t they?

I think I just have to take some deep breaths, rely on my well-trained sober muscles, and go forth. Like a track star. Which I am, right? There will be scared-y cat moments, there will be awkward and weird encounters; but, if I commit to being sober, all will go well. There will be no events, no crises, no hangovers, no ruinous bullshit. And, I can come home and be on my way to 90 days (again)…making Belle’s 100 Day Challenge a success…and building toward 180, where I’ve never been.

(The truth is, I could probably drink on the flight, but not more than two. And, I could probably drink on my own, but not with my friends (I will never go there again, mainly because I have NO idea what might transpire)–but, what fun is that? And, it’s like, duh, this all feels so familiar, limiting and rationing and blah blah blah. In fact, this leads me to remember an incident I read about and one of my own, about some kid who died because he tried some stupid stunt on the subway tracks while shitfaced… There is no other option but to not drink. For now. And I know it.)

Tags: alcoholic, alcoholism, binge drinking, butterflies, drinking, goals, living life sober, milestone, psychology, real world, recovery, sober, sober muscle, sobriety, travel, triggers, wine, women

Comments 15 Comments
Categories 100 Day Challenge, Addiction, Alcoholism, Binge drinking, Change, Family, Goals, Life, Milestones, Psychology, Recovery, Sobriety, Travel, Triggers

It’s OK to not care (that much) anymore

23 May

7:46 pm

I’m here, and nothing big to report. Still got blue skies, sparkly water, green trees, and very little desire to fuck it all up by drinkin’, let alone care about the whole mess. I’m gliding, and it feels good.

FINALLY. It’s taken almost a year for my brain to repair itself; and, I really think it has, to a large extent. I’m not sure what to make of it, though, because it’s new territory. Simply put, I think I’ve just accepted that I cannot drink, for one thing. I don’t drink now, like I’m preggers or have a life-threatening illness. I can’t drink, won’t drink, don’t drink. End of story. I think I’ve not only given up (let’s just say) on feeling better, but I’ve stopped actually being 100 percent fucking CONVINCED that wine will do it for me! Which, if you look at it in a positive light, is a good thing.

Second, I don’t really have time to drink or think about drinking these days–I’ve got science and writing and travel and future plans to wrangle with, AND, I’ve started running again, so that means EITHER drinking or training, but not both (hangover + running = null set). I don’t really have the energy, either, to think about all the emotional whys and wherefores that brought me to addiction. I’m over it, and frankly, I think it’s OK to stop dwelling on it all, for now. Yup, you should say you’re sorry. Yup, you should connect your drinking to your (my) self-loathing attempts at self-sabotage. Yup, yup, yup. Let it go, though, friends. I’ve read quite a few posts lately in which peeps are running around in their heads, trying to figure it all out. It’s OK not to care about figuring it all out, for now. You can not care AND be sober. You really can!

Booze is not the problem, you (we) are. That means that other things will come up, like binge eating, or sugar, or coffee. Or, doing something instead of what you should be doing; by “should,” I mean your dharma, and we all know what it is we’re called to do, we just have to take the time to discover it. At the end of the day, only you can figure out what happens after the bottle of vodka or decanter-sized glass of wine runs out. I’ve read some posts dealing with filler addictions, replacement fixes. Look: if you can give up fucking drinking, DUDE, you can give up ANYTHING. I’m pretty sure the only thing more painful than fucking around in my head for a year, wrestling with wolfie-boy is, I don’t know, hanging from metal hooks latched into my skin? It’s a constant struggle for all of us, I’m guessing, to not cave into our other “vices” just because we don’t drink. Again, let it go. You’re doing your best. Cut back, or do one thing less than you’re doing it, or more. And, it’s OK to not give a shit about this, too!

All that matters is you’re not drinking. Everything else, if you’re a human being with a functioning mind, will fall into place…eventually. And if it doesn’t? Well, it’s OK to let that go, too.

What helps me now? Knowing full well that a “glass of wine” (haha) won’t make it better. Won’t even come close. I just KNOW THAT. Why? Because I slipped. And, I think about the scenario over and over and over and over…until it finally fucking dawns on me that wine is not really what I want. I want relief. From what, is the key question. And, thinking it through, and finding your way–like, a mental route–to that question IS sober living, whether or not you end up drinking to ease the pain. GOOD FOR YOU that you’ve arrived at that KEY question: hold it in the palm of your hand and don’t let it go, no matter how much the little jewel might burn.

I also fill my days as much as I can, and I run into the problem of feeling empty, like I have nothing inside me, like I’m just a shell of a person. And, in a sense, I am. But, I (we) are building, and filling, and creating, and being productive instead of destructive–so, move through the regret and embrace this probably common truth that we (I) are shells and start FILLING it up with stuff you like to do. Most of the time I think I don’t know what I “really really” want or like to do, but I know I like writing, and science, and I have degrees from schools, and there’s the dogs, and the boyfriend, and my cakes, and…why the FUCK am I being so hard on myself? I’m SO full, it’s ridiculous! So, even I don’t know what I mean by this “shell” thing, but again, I don’t care. For now.

Hey, I thought the other day, I can live sober. I can actually DO THIS. It ain’t that bad not drinking. What a fucking epiphany. LOL. (Hello, first 35 years of my life! Were you really THAT bad?) Even a few weeks ago, I didn’t really believe this.

The remaining immediate hurdle for me is getting over, somehow, the sense that there is nothing as awesome to look forward to as wine. Sure, I can do this and substitute that, but wine, oh, wine, there is no one but you. That goes in direct contrast to what I just wrote, about realizing that wine is NOT what I want, but hey, it’s the human brain we’re dealing with here: fucked up.

Yes, this post contains a lot of “fuck’s,” but fuck it, this is how I talk to myself sometimes. 😉

So, I’m on Day…I’m not even sure. 66. Tomorrow will be 67. Onward to 90, then 100, then…the gilt-edged 180? *glitter ball*

Tags: alcoholic, alcoholism, binge drinking, coping mechanism, coping skills, cravings, drinking, goals, let it go, milestone, psychology, recovery, slip, sober, sobriety, triggers, wine, women

Comments 4 Comments
Categories 100 Day Challenge, Addiction, Alcoholism, Binge drinking, Coping mechanisms, Cravings, Disease, Goals, Life, Milestones, Psychology, Recovery, Slip, Sobriety, Triggers

Another 60 days… (and I feel fine)

18 May

6:05 pm

I’m at 60 days again (well, 61 today), and for some reason, it’s not a big deal. Sure, I put my 60-day AA chip out on display on the top of my desk (alongside my 24-hour and 30-day, all three awaiting the 90-day chip that remains in my desk drawer), but, otherwise it’s become more of a given: I don’t drink.

For one thing, I know I have a lot I want to do in the next few months, both personally and professionally, and drinking will prevent me from doing it. Period. Drinking is the opposite of being productive, and I want to get shit done! After all this time, I know that it’s not what I want, and, I know that it’s counterproductive–and, being productive is the antidote to my cravings, for the most part. Drinking gets in the way of that, both before, during, and long after. As my Facebook friends so effectively illustrated this Saturday morning, I can either be going to the bodega for Advil, coconut water, and a bagel; or, I can be on my way to Estonia (or, whatever other country is on your must-see list).

Secondly, compared to my last time being here (mid-December), I really don’t feel like drinkin’. Really really. That dazed-and-confused feeling, that first-few-sips-and-I’m-already-starting-to-forget-things feeling, that nervous-because-who-knows-what-I-might-do-in-my-blackout-some-dumbass-shit-I’m-sure feeling–yeah, I really don’t want THAT feeling.

I’d rather get on with things. And those things–scientific editorial work, story pitching, trip researching, future job planning–can’t be done while thinking about drinking, drunk, or being hung over.

I’ve been seeing a lot of posts lately grappling with the idea of slipping and/or relapsing. For me, slipping was necessary. I don’t like to be afraid, to wonder, and slipping was my way of dispelling my fear: What would it be like if I drank? Welp, I drank and found out! It was necessary, for me anyway, to finally know–deep down, with no lingering doubts–that being sober is better than drinking, and the very least, drinking does not help me now; most of the time, it makes things worse. One glass is more painful than no glass, mainly because I just want more, and more, and more. I know I won’t want to stop, and I’d rather just skip the whole mess.

I never got a pink cloud, but I do have a moment now and then; and one of the best pink-cloud moments is when you sit back and think, Look at what my Saturday is like NOW, versus what it was like when I was drinking? And, the miracle is not that I quit drinking, or reached 60 days. It’s that THIS is my new normal–I expect to get up at 8 or 9 or 10, do the dishes and make coffee, walk the dogs to the beach with my boyfriend, bathe the dogs when we get home, shower, and then drive to “town” to hit a mini-arts fest and shop at a big box store (yes, I can’t tell you how fun shopping for bulk items is, even now, on a Saturday, when any other day prior to last June would have seen me sick and in bed until 3 pm, barely breathing and trying to piece my soul back together form a night out that I don’t remember). Yes, this is my new normal, and how much glitter can I toss over my unicorn’s shoulder to celebrate such an awesome mental and emotional achievement in healing? And endless supply, friends.

Tags: 60 days, alcoholic, alcoholism, binge drinking, drinking, goals, gratitude, milestone, pink cloud, plans, productive, productivity, psychology, recovery, Saturdays, slip, sober, sobriety, wine, women

Comments 6 Comments
Categories 100 Day Challenge, Addiction, Alcoholism, Binge drinking, Goals, Gratitude, Milestones, Psychology, Recovery, Slip, Sobriety

I wonder, how long was I running on fumes?

6 May

5:37 pm

Cuz these days, I have no motivation. Sure, I do stuff, I’m planning stuff, but only if charged on sugar and caffeine. And, I could be doing SO much more. The natural spring of ambition I had in college? Good Jesus, that’s over. The kind I had in my mid-20s, when I was spending 12 hours a day working for startups in the Valley? Man, I can’t remember that girl. In my late 20s and early 30s, planning my “escape” to the Big Apple, where I’d then spend 5 more years running around, going to grad school, becoming a new career? I’d be amazed to summon the ghost of that person, let alone an ounce of that sort of oomph.

I just don’t care, is how I feel right now. None of it really matters. I will go, one day, and so will you. And likely, there is no benevolent consciousness waiting to engulf me. I wish there was, but considering how many people believe this, it’s almost a sure bet that it’s going to be nothing like that in the “afterlife.”

I don’t know. It’s almost like, when I gave up drinkin’, I lost my recklessness–a large amount of which HELPED me. Helped me to get jazzed about life. About change. About movement, and action. Helped me in ways big and small to do the job of a journalist, that’s for sure.

I’m waiting, and nothing’s happening. I want another “big adventure,” but honestly, I don’t have much desire to look into it, plan it, and go for it. No reckless energy to fuel an insane sort of curiosity. Maybe it’s called getting old? Middle age?

This…inertia…has been with me all my life, though. This darkness–psychological and physical in symptoms–it’s a constant companion, and all I can say is, some people know it better than others. I’ve learned to deal with the twitchy mind: It doesn’t get better the next day; you MAKE it better. You get through, grit your teeth, hoping that you appear “normal” enough to get by in the outside world. It’s partly why I drank. For me, though, it’s always there, looming WAY louder than wolfie’s “I want wine” voice. I want wine to quiet the booming wind tunnels blowing inside me.

Sigh. I guess I can keep waiting for it to get better, but…man, it’s been a year, and I feel the same as I always did, only with more acceptance around this mentality when it strikes (which seems to be often, to varying degrees, these days).

The dogs have it easy, I assume; maybe, though, they, too, are bored with life? As an old friend once said to me, “Well, it’s a good thing life is short.” Isn’t it.

Tags: alcoholic, alcoholism, binge drinking, death, depression, drinking, inertia, motivation, psychology, recovery, sense of purpose, sober, sobriety, wine, women

Comments 10 Comments
Categories Addiction, Alcoholism, Binge drinking, Death, Depression, Mortality, Psychology, Recovery, Sobriety

Am I an alcoholic? Wrong question

15 Apr

10:59 am

I recently had the “opportunity” (haha) to watch people who don’t care about drinking drink. In a word, it’s baffling.

I went boating yesterday and people brought booze. Of course, after going 60 days last summer, then 5 weeks last fall, then another NEAR-SIX MONTHS up until about a month ago sober, I had my Diet Coke at the ready. However, I was like a dog, turning its head at every “pfft” and “pop” as the bottles were extracted (in slow motion) from the coolers. Not necessarily because I was jones’ing for a drink, but mainly out of habit…and curiosity. How do non-alcoholics actually drink?

I shit you not: over the course of about 4 or 5 hours, I watched two people consume two bottles of prosecco and then, maybe a few more drinks each. WHAT. I would’ve downed the first bottle in less than an hour, and then kept going. Another girl “properly” drank oh, about 3 or 4 or 5 drinks (not THAT much, is what I’m saying–it was champagne and wine) over those same 4 or 5 or 6 hours. WHAT? I would have slurped down at LEAST that much by noon.

What I noticed the most was, these people seemed to have about as much disinterest as interest in drinking their booze. They seemed to really have been able to take it or leave it. There was no compulsion, no clutching, no fast-paced “more more more” that goes on for me. BIZARRE.

They are not alcoholics…because they do not drink alcoholically.

The tables turned in my sober journey when I stopped trying to answer the question that seemed to be on everyone’s lips: am I an alcoholic? In AA meetings, saying those words made me feel very uncomfortable. And, most importantly, they didn’t ring true. For me, anyway. While some may argue that semantics are meaningless, I would say the opposite: we learn to define our world in terms of words, the words that we hear, and say in our heads; the words we use to give form to our thoughts, feelings, and ideas.

I realized that whatever I may “be,” I DO drink *alcoholically.* I use wine, for instance, instead of drink it. That is not variable, open to discussion, or a question in my mind anymore. I drink alcoholically because, somehow (and that’s what’s going on now with me, figuring out where “somehow” began and how it’s going to end) I developed a compulsion–a need, a screaming wolfie-boy want–to drink. I care about drinking. I don’t care about eating, or smoking, or popping pills. I don’t care about tanning or pulling out my hairs or hoarding or growing my nails ten feet long. And so, when I see others drinking non-alcoholically, I’m like, BIZARRE.

Day 28, and counting. And, just because it’s so awesome, please check out Belle’s 100-day challenge! I’m right there with you. 🙂

Tags: alcoholic, alcoholism, binge drinking, compulsion, drink alcoholically, drinking, psychology, recovery, sober, sobriety, wine, women

Comments 13 Comments
Categories Addiction, Alcoholism, Binge drinking, Psychology, Recovery, Sobriety

Just because you think it, does not make it so

10 Apr

10:59 am

It’s been almost a week since I last posted, but I’m doing well. Great, actually. It’s been a whole week since I dumped that “temptation bottle” of wine down the kitchen sink, along with the rest of the booze in my house–and frankly, I’ve barely thought about drinking let alone wanted to drink. Day 23, and rocking it.

For a work project, lately I’ve been reading about the neuroscience of addiction. My, oh, my, how our shit gets fucked up. NO WONDER it takes us so long to heal. And here we are, blaming and hating on ourselves. Dude, the wolf voice is real.

I went camping yesterday, and a friend met us down on the beach. We got to talking about drugs and booze and he said that his ex-wife (now deceased from complications of alcoholism, sadly–she was like, mid-50s?) used to get drunk on the way to the restaurant. Like, literally, her personality would change as they were driving, before she even got near the first glass. He said he had friends who would experience the symptoms of being high–like vomiting; kind of hard to fake that–en route to get the heroin. He said they had to pull the car over for the guy to throw up onto the side of the road, miles before their pickup point!

I, for one, have found that my cravings don’t mean I really want to drink. I THINK I want to drink, but I don’t. I have experienced the feeling of being high on wine, of having my mood swing totally UP–all by thinking about, anticipating drinking. In the articles I’ve read, these reward circuits ARE, in fact, firing; the problem is, they’ve become sensitized to different amounts of neurotransmitters and different mental stimuli, let’s just say, so their firing isn’t associated with a healthy reward or a moderate amount of reward. For instance, every time I sit down and watch a movie, I want to drink. Every time I unfold my chair on the beach, I want to drink. My brain is associating these events with drinking, and bam, my reward circuits start firing.

I also read a piece where the gist of it was, there are different circuits (i.e., chemicals and neurons) for want/desire and reward/pleasure. Like, I can want to drink, but the pleasure derived from this is different than the so-called pleasure from actually drinking. Which might explain how I can feel my mood shift simply by thinking about how nice it would be to have a glass of wine. (I wonder if this applies to the whole, Absence makes the heart grow fonder, adage? 😉 )

The problem is, it’s not real.

The solution I’ve found is, let it keep happening until it doesn’t! And, miraculously, it STOPS HAPPENING. Or, it happens less, and less powerfully. Or, you learn to ignore it. Or, your brain simply starts to right itself, and dials those circuits back down to normal.

We spent all day Monday and Monday night on the beach. Back in the day (is it really in the past?) I’d feel nervous about “being trapped” in front of that much time, with no wine to escape to. I KNEW I would feel trapped, like I couldn’t breathe, having to just sit there and be; and it would make me dread going or doing things that involved just sitting and being.

Sit there and be? Without feeling irritable, trapped, anxious? NO WAY. Yet…I did it! Or, it did me. I not only had very few cravings, but there were points along the way where I felt just as high/drunk as I might have felt if I had actually drunk. Of course, better: all the happy and contentment and none of the confused descent into madness.

I was also able to just sit there and stare at the night sky. WITHOUT feeling like I wanted to interrupt the process, or disrupt it with a drink. I could sit there and just be. Wow. Who would have thought it possible?

THIS is what I’m talking about when I say the cravings “subside” after a few months. Now, more than ever, I can “see” my brain at work, and use my knowledge to defend myself against the urges, cravings, thoughts of drinkin’. They are not real. And, incredulous as it may seem to us as we embark on parting ways with alcohol, they go away. The mind rights itself. Maybe not completely, and maybe not exactly the way I’ve described, but the thoughts come less, the associative thinking dies down, and we’re left with something we haven’t seen in a long, long time: a flat terrain that is our mind, a blank canvas tethered at the ends of a solid frame that is our brain. Both are like the surface of the water on a windless day. And, my, how long we’ve waited for that calm.

So, onward. Day 23 and…not really counting. I mean, I don’t think it’ll really start to be all that exciting until day 90 again, maybe. Who knows? At the moment, I’m not really thinking how “nice” it’d be to have a glass of wine. I know it wouldn’t be “nice,” and I know the next three days (shit, let’s put it at a week, who am I kidding?) wouldn’t be “nice.” And frankly, by the time I get to this point in the thought process, my brain has given up and I’ve forgotten about the craving.

Just because you think it, does not make it so.

Tags: alcoholic, alcoholism, anxiety, binge drinking, cravings, depression, drinking, neural circuits, neuroscience, neurotransmitter, psychology, recovery, reward circuits, sober, sobriety, wine, women

Comments 23 Comments
Categories Addiction, Alcoholism, Anxiety, Binge drinking, Cravings, Depression, Disease, Neuroscience, Psychology, Recovery, Sobriety

Reality check

3 Apr

10:22 pm

I got a big gush of “whoa” tonight in my attempt to re-read some of the past year’s worth of journal entries. I’ve journaled my entire life, but over the past decade, a lot of it has consisted of miserable, self-hating rants about how horrible I feel to be hung over, what a shit I am to keep doing this to myself, and how lame I am, in general. However, this past year takes the cake: my journal entries were so rambunctious in just how GRUELING it is to get and keep sober, I had to stop reading somewhere around July! It was tiring and confusing and downright tedious going in and out of it all–I mean, the physical and mental stages of withdrawing, and craving, and fearing, and doubting, and wondering, Can I really do this?

For me, that analytical mess has passed, thank God(dess). Yet, I’m not that self-delusional (anymore) to note that, yes, while I’ve changed and somehow managed to outgrow (or, outrun?) all those thoughts, the bottom line is, I still have the tendency toward compulsion. I appreciate all your comments, but mostly, I appreciate the ones who’ve said, A slip IS a big deal because of what it allows you to think, which is, Oh, sure, I can drink! I’m healed!

That’s the voice of compulsion. It’s more like, I give up my autonomy for a prison of the mind. That prison is the need to drink, the compulsion, the wanting, the belief that it’ll work this time. And the door to that locked cell is booze itself.

Confession: I bought a bottle of red wine the other day. (Remember when I said I spent ahem, a “while” staring at the shelves and shelves of cheap, good red wine at a big box store? Well, yeah. I took down one of those bottles, then put it back. Then, took down another, with .5% less alcohol content, and bought it. I know, that .5% is really going to make me SO much less drunk.) It’s been a few days, and I’ve had it in my desk drawer. Well, I finally uncorked it this afternoon and poured it down the kitchen sink. Along with a half-bottle of Stoli and two mini-bottles of Jager (purchased in a near-blackout state; obviously, one almost NEEDS to be unconscious to want to drink Jager).

No, I hadn’t had any of the hard booze these past near-6 months, but…I never dumped it. I guess I never really committed to being sober. DING DONG. Reality check.

I have to say, I was shaking as I opened the bottle of red. I mean, I was nervous. What if my hand suddenly turned and started pouring it down my throat? What if I licked my fingers and just couldn’t help myself? As I watched it drain, I realized I still don’t have much control over my compulsion–it still affects me. Of course, I had no intention of drinking any of it, but I wasn’t 100 percent sure that somehow, it wouldn’t end up in my mouth.

I took a few sniffs of it as I poured, two or three really big whiffs. I thought it would give me the sensation of nausea, but it gave me what felt like my drinking life passing before my eyes in a series of images/memories, most really horrible but some good. And then, to my surprise, came the slightly panicked thoughts: Holy crap, what about all the good times? Am I really giving them up forever?

With the hard alcohol, I was like, Pfft, whatever, don’t let the door hit ya on the way out! Yet…as I proved to myself last year, I would SO totally drink that shit if I was already drunk on red wine. So Totally. And, I know it. DUN DUN. Reality check number two. (I NEVER did that prior to last year, ever ever ever. I wasn’t a hard booze person. Yet, I must admit, as my alcoholism got worse last spring, I WAS hitting the tumblers of vodka, often (depending on how drunk I felt) skipping the mixer entirely.)

What’s the lesson? I’m a bit scared. I thought I had this licked, but yet, I was shaking with an actual fear that I–my physical person–was not one of mind. That somehow, I might lose my head and in a flash, start gulping down wine! And, that this is a compulsion that I can’t seem to manage.

In all my journaling and thinking over the past few days, I can sum it up in a few sentences: I like living without a crutch, without having the option of running home to wine. Drinking is a prison; outside of this, I learn–mainly about myself, what makes me tick. And, it’s a given that, regardless of how I FEEL about not drinking, when I don’t drink, my life moves forward and when I do, it doesn’t.

So, September 14th, folks. My 180-day mark. I feel relieved. And, strong. Happy to be (back?) inside what appears to be a clear bubble, in which the entire world is reflected back at me. And…one last thing:

*glitter ball* times two, heading right at me!

(*glitter ball* means, my unicorn has spit one out of her horn, and it’s flying your way in a tiny flame-tail of explosion and firecracker and goodness)

Tags: alcoholic, alcoholism, binge drinking, compulsion, cravings, drinking, psychology, recovery, slip, sober, sobriety, wine, women

Comments 10 Comments
Categories Addiction, Alcoholism, Binge drinking, Cravings, Psychology, Recovery, Slip, Sobriety

A little slack in my comments and posts lately, but…

1 Apr

11:43 pm

I’m on day 14 (again), and I just wanted to check in and tell you that…I’m on day 14 again. Why? I feel myself slipping. I feel like I can drink now. Or, I can contemplate drinking now. That’s better, yes: I can think about it again. Which is NOT GOOD. Which is, not easy. That little slip was bigger that I thought, I have to admit.

Today I spent a while, let’s just say, staring at the wine selection at a local big box store down here, thinking that I could just “pick up a bottle no big deal.” Except, a bottle’s not enough. And, two, as we have seen, is way too much.

So, I’m going to try harder to connect with this blog, try more and better to keep blogging–like I was last summer, feverishly–and keep replying to all the comments I receive. Granted, 98 percent of my lack of response (well, maybe 95) is a lack of time; but the remainder is the crack in the window, the wolf’s in. If I don’t reply, if I stay quiet…the more I let myself believe that I’m right, and you’re all wrong. That’s simply put, but I think you get it.

So, here’s to 2 weeks. Two. Little. Weeks. Sigh. And, wasn’t it just a few days ago that I was riding high on my unicorn, happy and proud of my “decision” to take the weight of All Those Days off my back so I could continue moving forward? Nonsense.

I envy Belle, hitting that sweet spot where things have changed. I can’t wait to get there, too.

(Btw, I’ve started to crochet again. I’m either old, hip, or a combination of the two. I used to do it as a kid, and I won some crafty awards. It was very meditative, and I hope to find in it that simple, mindful mindlessness that might improve the hours of ambivalence facing me over the next 16 days (I think getting a month under my drinkin’ belt again will help my MIND, alongside my heart, commit to being sober)).

Tags: alcoholic, alcoholism, binge drinking, cravings, drinking, meditation, psychology, recovery, slip, sober, sobriety, wine, women

Comments 18 Comments
Categories Addiction, Alcoholism, Binge drinking, Cravings, Meditation, Psychology, Recovery, Slip, Sobriety

Day 12…and feeling proud to be starting over

30 Mar

1:00 pm

Well, I wouldn’t say I’m starting over; being sober for almost 6 months has left some profound imprints on my brain! However, for the sake of pedantry, I AM starting the count over (well, as of last Tuesday, which was my day 1). And, today is day 12. And, I’m really proud of that. Looking forward to celebrating the accomplishment a second time around: a month’s time, two months, my 90-day chip (oh, Hell’s yes, I’m bringing that baby out and wearing it around my neck like a medal that day)…

It’s going SO much easier–of course, it is. I’m USED to not drinking. I’m used to feeling better and managing the mind, as it were. Though, I think it’s more often than not that I don’t WANT to drink. I think I’ve either practiced telling myself for so long that I don’t want to drink that it’s become the norm, OR, that mantra is finally sinking in and I really don’t want to.

What I really think it is for me is, having experimented. Now, though, “relapse” would simply be a choice, not something that’s going to come over me like a tidal wave and smack me to the ground, helpless. That choice is with me every day, and while it’s a difficult one to make the first 30 days, the first 4 months–it gets easier and easier to not just say no to drinking, but yes to life! (cue unicorn and glitter parade) Plus, I’m in a much stronger–and different–place, and I know (from experiments) that drinking literally only leads to bad hangovers, wasted days, and spent money. The best part? KNOWING that I really can’t afford those things anymore. That is the process I’ve struggled with, letting go of this idea that drinking and being giddy for two seconds is worth having all of the above.

And, y’know, blacking out and calling my mom and calling my brother and feeling regret about having done both… Well, it’s a reminder as to how one drink can lead to four can lead to “Whoops, I did it again!” Unfortunately, my hangover lasted for three days. THAT was rough… Combined with my memory of my last bad drunk, which was a tremendous hangover the day I flew out last October–it all adds up to a huge incentive/preventive.

But, deep down, the reminder serves more to remind me of what I have, and not what I don’t want.

Not drinking for almost 6 months has allowed me to simply get USED to not drinking. Now, I feel much better saying no and letting others go on the same, boring circus ride of getting drunk and being hung over. I enjoy attending events sober; dinner parties are more fun for me now because I’m USED to being the “dork” who’s not gushing out some ridiculous (and irrelevant) storyline, the more reserved “adult”–in fact, staying sober has made me feel more mature. I used to feel VERY mature growing up, and I’m sure that contributed to my choice to veer off in the opposite direction with my drinking; now, I actually like that feeling.

And, honestly, I get somewhat irritated now with friends who have that first or second or third drink, and then start to mentally wander off. I KNOW what’s going on in their heads, and it definitely does not involve listening to what I’m saying! I see the immaturity and irresponsibility of drinking to excess, and well, for someone who can’t afford to do so anymore (time’s running out, yo), it just bothers me. I think it’s the case very early on with “normal” drinkers, where they realize that a tradeoff has to be made. It’s like, No duh, for them. With us, fighting a COMPULSION to drink, well, it’s a big, hairy, instructive lesson in life when we don’t drink and as a result, learn a lot about what we’ve been avoiding confronting or dealing with, personally.

What’s the point? Well, I guess it’s: months ago, I literally could not imagine feeling anything but this immense craving to drink, feeling like nothing would make it as good as a drink, believing that nothing could be fun without wine, trudging to this and that event feeling a literal hole pulling on my stomach–the hole of craving, I see it is now. It’s not lasting, and it goes away. Might take a while–I’ll tell you, I dragged my sober ass from day 90 until about week 21, after which I think I started to plan my next drunk anyway (which happened shortly thereafter). But, it goes away. Or, it’s going away.

I think I’m just seeing things differently: I’m HAPPY to be counting days, and at the start again. There’s less pressure, I suppose. It’s almost like, I don’t have to think about “possibly drinking” or “falling off the wagon” for a while now. WHEW! What a relief. Which, of course, equates to relief at having made a commitment to simply not drink, even if a unicorn explodes or the sky turns green. No choice, much relief.

Then, it was counting against craving, to just get by and not drink. Now, the pressure’s on, in the sense that I see my triggers–anxiety/depression/moodiness, things that make me feel uncomfortable and I avoid doing or pursuing out of habit or fear. What I don’t (or didn’t) need is the pressure of 6 months hanging over my head. I think I wanted to shift my mentality to, I don’t drink, is all, instead of, I am Sober. Which, I suppose, eased the weight enough for me to continue (and want to continue) the baby steps–OK, maybe a bit bigger than baby–I’ve taken to start unraveling why I drank and what I can do about changing things instead of drinking over them. Sure, it’s the real work of getting sober, and maybe I took a slight detour to dump off some shit (i.e., all those days), but it’s my truck, my gas money, and my road! 😉

Anyway, here’s to day 12!

Tags: alcoholic, alcoholism, binge drinking, cravings, drinking, psychology, recovery, slip, sober, sobriety, wine, women

Comments 9 Comments
Categories Addiction, Alcoholism, Binge drinking, Cravings, Psychology, Recovery, Slip, Sobriety

I no longer define myself by my drinking

6 Mar

9:51 pm

And, no one else can, either!

Sorry about not posting as often as I usually do, but, I’ve had a lot going on. Nonetheless, I’m still here, still sober, and still thinking about drinking–but won’t–almost every day. I mean, it’d be nice, I guess, to have a glass of red. Mainly, I wonder if I can; and if I would, if I could. The thoughts are momentary, though; it’s just not something I’m going to give up the past 21 weeks (as of tomorrow) of mental work/anguish to do!

I’m definitely feeling like I’m coming out from under some sort of anxiety/depression fog, which has been enveloping my brain and hovering around it since December. I feel better, more confident, and well, more like myself, in general. Nothing has to be perfect, and, if they don’t want me, it’s their loss, is MUCH easier for me to tell myself these days, an almost automatic internal reaction–how it was, and should be; the baseline; normal. Not that I didn’t have doubts and self-confidence issues before, but the older I got the better able I was to channel the Fierce. Since I quit drinkin’, I’ve just felt…really unsure. Annoyingly, frustratingly so. More and more, decisions are coming without a lot of back and forth. I can count on myself again, and that takes away a lot of anxiety (which, I guess, I didn’t even know was coming from within).

Drinking was a phase in my life, I see now. I’m now most definitely not in that phase; I’ve grown out of it. Grown up, in a sense. Getting shitfaced messes everything up, and that’s the best it does; I really don’t have the time or desire to mess things up anymore. Drinking to excess has personal and professional consequences; I wouldn’t subject myself to them–and wouldn’t let others take advantage of me while drunk–if I had an OUNCE of self-love. I see that now.

I’m not sure if drinking will be a part of my future, but using wine the way I did–and abusing others and letting myself be abused by others–will DEFINITELY not be. It really is that simple.

I am no longer defining myself by my drinking. And, regardless of what box you fit into (someone I hurt, someone I “lost” along the way to getting sober), I am no longer allowing you to define me by my drinking. (“You” is not, well, y’all, but…well, you know what I mean!) What a liberating revelation! Am I still bitter that some people haven’t forgiven or forgotten, despite my “amends” and apologies? Hell’s, yes! Am I trying to let that–and them–go? You bet. There are SO many people in this world to get to know–that I get the chance to know–to share myself with, to love. And to be loved by. Why would I waste time and effort on those who are still defining me–and our relationship–by my nonexistent drinking? I wouldn’t. And that’s much easier to accept now than it was even a month ago.

I’m looking forward–finally–to most everything. Finally, it’s not an effort to get excited about a trip, a job application, a road race. I can almost look forward to dinners out sans wine–well, let’s not go THAT far. I don’t know if that’s part of the warped-by-wine leaving me, but I think it is. Why? Because it feels effortless, familiar–I remember all the stuff I USED to do that got me excited, wine or no wine. Somewhere along the way, none of it alone could make me feel excited anymore; the only thing I looked forward to, that truly motivated me, was wine. Getting buzzed. Doubly disappointing was that the by-product became mass confusion and destruction.

Anyway, things are rolling along: I’m *this* close to registering for a half-marathon somewhere; I’m heading to Miami this weekend for a solo “big city” adventure; and well, other stuff that’s too personal or boring to share here. Slowly, but surely, things are coming together. I just have to remember to take it easy on myself when I need to, breathe, and ENJOY the silence–wolfie (the voice of craving, that growls, Drink drink drink drink!) has finally shut up, and is cowering in his dog bed over in the far corner. Yes, I gave him a *dog* bed to rub in his now SO-not-alpha status.

147 days tomorrow, which means 33 days until my 6-month goal! Unicorns, set…and GO!!!

Tags: alcoholic, alcoholism, anxiety, binge drinking, cravings, defining self, depression, drinking, psychology, recovery, self-definition, self-love, sober, sobriety, wine, women

Comments 7 Comments
Categories Addiction, Alcoholism, Anxiety, Binge drinking, Change, Cravings, Depression, Psychology, Recovery, Sobriety

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