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No big highs or lows (or, maybe one low high?)

15 May

9:06 am

I just wanted to check in and say I’m here, still sober, and strangely quiet about it all lately. I think I’ve just been busy trying to sort out the summer, and next fall–plans are in the works, but the investigative process is tedious, I must say.

Anyway, no great highs. No big lows. I wanted to drink last night (I ran into a pocket of sober turbulence that lasted long enough for me to forget why I wanted to drink in the first place, if I even had a “reason”–who wants to be hung over in 95-degree weather?), but I didn’t. Do I still consider moderation in my future? Sure. But, right now, I am choosing to muscle through the future planning, the heat, and my “depression” (which is mainly a lack of direction, which I’ve said before, makes me feel low and sad, I guess)..and simply not overthink it.

Do I want to drink? Yes. Of course. I love red wine. That’s on the front page of my blog. Duh. I don’t think I’ll ever stop wanting to drink, and I’m OK with that.

What I want more, however, is to be sober. And, what I don’t want is to be stuck in this weird limbo of having gone–mentally and emotionally–nearly six months sober but yet still *technically* be on Day 58 (yup, coming up on 60 again). It’s weird, is all I can say, and I don’t recommend it! I mean, it’s like, those six months of days are in my sober bank; my sober muscle hasn’t atrophied, but yet…I’m trying squeeze myself back into my old clothes, those of my newly-sober self. I don’t know, I have to figure it out. It’s harder, mainly because I’m stuck on the pedantics of counting days. So it goes.

Anyway, I’ve got loads to share, but right now, there are about 14 mosquitoes having a field day on my right butt cheek, my “special girlfriend” dog wants to go for a walk, and I already feel like the day is slipping away and it’s only 9 am!

Thanks for sticking by me, friends. This month has been a hard one so far. However, I’ll have 60 days on Friday, and I am not drinking for 100, no matter if the sky turns red and the gravitational force disappears.

Self-medicating not allowed

10 May

9:25 pm

Sorry I’ve been MIA this week.

The past few days have been really shitty, I must say. And, I just haven’t felt like writing about it. However, I wanted to check in and say howdy-do, I’m here, and I’m sober. Coming up on 8 weeks again next Monday. 🙂

I don’t know if I’ve been sad, sick, drinking too much Diet Coke, or inhaling too much second-hand smoke. Whatever it is, I’ve just had a headache. Of the body (my head does feel grainy) and mind (I feel sort of hopeless in the most literal sense, as in, nothing to personally look forward to).

In having to just sit with it, wait it out; I guess I’ve figured out why I used to drink wine when I felt this way: I don’t like being sad. I don’t have TIME for it. I’m also familiar with it, and so afraid of the place it takes me (is taking me) and afraid that I’ll think myself further down. My father has been in the midst of a serious, clinical depression going on 5 years or more. I used to wonder, why can’t he just think himself out of it? Honestly, the hardest thing about the past few days has been NOT ALLOWING my mind to think itself further into the “depression,” or whatever we’re calling it. Which actually frightened me a bit, because it felt like I could, if I wasn’t careful to control the negative thoughts.

Anyway, I’ve learned a lot from the past week. One, I can no longer escape from this, or run from it, with wine. I did that for years, and it’s just not possible anymore IF I want to actually move past it. (This is going to be REALLY hard, I know. It’s why this is such a mental thing for me, a mental battle.) Two, I want to drink LESS than I want to stay sober, which means slogging through the mind-fogs like this. I know these may simply be mood swings, but they could also be NECESSARY growing pains–learning how to deal, unmedicated, with the ups and downs of life. (Though, is this really a “normal” down for most people? These feelings are gut-wrenching, mind-numbing, seemingly pointless; I’m not as much “sad” as I feel totally out of it, lethargic, reflective on past mistakes to the point of feeling the weight of the world on my shoulders. As I told my boyfriend, it’s not even that I WANT to do something, it’s that I want to WANT to do something.)

But, today is better than yesterday is better than the early days of the week. I think I need a new routine, a new project, some meaty changes to bite into…which I’m working on. I did accomplish a few things this week (another editing project; a visit to a nonprofit–a few weeks longer than it “should’ve” taken me, but oh, well, it takes what it takes; a couple of important trips planned, one to a neighboring island for a few days next month–yes, I DO have my priorities straight). I already forgot about most of the negative thoughts that were clouding my mind (there were so many, and they were so confusing, that it was hard to even think them let alone hold onto them), which is exactly where they belong–outside my memory bank, in the ether. And, that thing I mentioned above, which I realized somewhere along the way in my email-reading and comment-writing: I want to be sober MORE than I want to drink; which, in essence, cancels out even the most painful cravings. (As an aside, considering that drinking the other night would have made me feel the same as I already felt–numb, sad, closed off to the world–well, it’s a no-brainer.)

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.

Reaching out, or, I’m not the only human who has human thoughts?

4 May

9:29 pm

I had some dark thoughts today. I woke up bored, and it just spiraled down from there.

Yes, it’s possible to simply wake up bored. It was hot, I didn’t sleep well, blah blah blah. I then proceeded to sit out on the porch, contemplating just how much “life sucks.” Thoughts like, I’m ready to go, What do I have to live for?, etc.

For most of my years here, in my Human Skin on Planet Earth, I simply did not share these thoughts. Of course, I’m the ONLY person to ever have existential angst, right? And on top of it, despite all my competing thoughts, screaming at me how amazing I’ve got it right about now; I couldn’t lift my head out of the vortex.

This time, I decided to share these thoughts, hoping that it might help. (I was also thinking about drinking, starting to plan it already, and I knew that I had to do SOMETHING else.) So, I emailed Belle, one of my sober pen pals, and then I told my boyfriend about them.

“I’m ready to go.” He was like, OK. “There’s really nothing left for me to do here, in this life.” He was like, Are you going to take the dogs with you? Hmm…I had to think about that.

We all have bad days, I guess. What’s different–and a relief–is that I chose to reach out and share. Even though I was pretty ashamed of these thoughts; as in, what’s wrong with me that I have these thoughts, and worse, what’s even more wrong with me that I can’t control these thoughts, usher them out, and think more positively? I tried to meditate, and that did help a bit.

The afternoon progressed better, though. We went for a longass snorkel at a very local (read: backyard) beach, and then I went to the store and got a bunch of stuff for my upcoming master cleanse (I’ll get to that in a different post). On the errands front, I booked a trip back to that cold east coast city I came from (to investigate that new graduate program I mentioned), took care of my IRA (finally), and…well, you get the point. Moving forward.

I still don’t feel 100 percent awesome right now, but I think that has a lot to do with my master cleanse “prep,” which I may or may not go through with. In this depressed state of mind, I’m not looking forward to staying sober, I have to admit, but onward, fair Unicorn with Sparkly Teeth–to 7 weeks this coming Monday, then 10, then 12, then 90 days…then?

6-week intervals, or, Snapshot of life in 6 weeks

1 May

12:33 pm

I’ve decided that this time around (my fourth!), I’m going to take sobriety in 6-week chunks. Intervals of time that feel, to me, doable. Not too short, but not “forever ever.” Plus, I’ve found that you can set a significant goal or three and work toward actually accomplishing those goals in that amount of time.

This is new for me, to be able to look 6 weeks down the road and KNOW that I won’t drink. Wow. And, it doesn’t bother me, or make me fidget, or take my breath away, or make my head hurt. It just feels…like a relief. A relief to have made the decision–for the next 6 weeks–that I won’t drink. Done and done. Next?

Does that mean that I will drink after those 6 weeks has passed? Like, when mid-June (my birthday, actually!) gets here, will I be like, OK, DDG, since you’ve been such a “good” girl, here’s a case of wine–present from me to you–go to it! No, of course, not. In fact, it’s a bit nebulous: I know from experience that I will probably feel stronger, prouder, less affected by my cravings, and even more committed to continuing on to the next 6 weeks, the next 3 months. However, I’m not going to look beyond right now. Sort of like running 5 or 6 or 8 miles: ya can’t think about the last three when you’re lobbing your tired and heavy legs through the first five. What happens? Tripping, falling, spraining ankle, cursing, tears.

Nevertheless, I feel strong. I’m working more efficiently (shit, I’ve even applied and am considering grad school again!); I’m obsessing less about other people’s so-called achievements in my chosen field. I’m getting more and more of my sense of self back. The “old me” who wasn’t afraid of challenge, who didn’t second-guess her decisions and motivations all the freaking time. Who just went about HER business. There she is! I know her. It’s a relief, is all I can say.

And, speaking of relief, my cravings these past 6 weeks (save for that initial SHITTY hump of getting back on the wagon after almost 6 whole months of sobriety) have sort of morphed into reactions. The craving is no longer an immense wave of feeling that starts in my brain and then, instantaneously, floods my gut with romance and desire. I had quite a few pangs the past, oh, 3 weeks, but they’ve boiled down to reactions–easy to see/understand, easy to bat away. Like, when I sprained my ankle, I wanted to drink. Really? At high noon, in the middle of the jogging park? Please. I know you, wolfie. Be gone! Or, like, when I feel frustrated or angry driving around here, I can almost instantly go from, “I hate this place” to “Might as well fucking drink, I have no life, I’m a loser.” Ha ha. Try again, Wolfie-boy! Your tired voice is so last November, mmkay?

The difference between now, at 6 weeks, and let’s say, last summer at 6 weeks, is that I can observe these reactions, detach myself from them, and counter them with a rational thought process. Working my “sober muscle,” as I call it, has built up this rational thought process. My defenses are stronger. It’s such a relief to not be tied so closely, emotionally, to the addiction’s thoughts.

I think they call this mindfulness. Being able to look at–or over–your feelings, thoughts, and reactions (or, desire to react) as they come and then, let them go.

Anyhoo, I’m taking the day off today. Why? Because I can. Would the DDG of yesteryear been able to actually embrace “just being” instead of let’s say, feeling like she HAS to work 50 hours a week in order to feel valid? NO! Still, I continue to work on teasing out where sense of purpose/achievement end and conditioned behavior/workaholism begin…

6 weeks and going strong…

30 Apr

12:53 am

Ain’t nuttin’ gonna hold me down! Oh, no! I got to keep on movin’!

Welp, I’ve started like, four posts and can’t seem to organize my thoughts tonight, so I’ll be brief: 42 days again and counting. Six weeks has flown by, and I’m actually going to hit up my journal now and see what, exactly, I’ve done in those past 6 weeks! And, while I am looking forward to having 12 weeks under my belt again, I know the next 6 weeks holds a lot of choices and changes. So, I’m not looking forward to it going fast.

I remember how grateful I was when I had 6 weeks last fall. Now? Of course, I’m grateful. However, it just doesn’t seem like that long of a period of time. And, the cravings are still there, they just come in the form of reactions. I can see my reactions much more clearly than I can feel my cravings, so…in that way, it’s GREAT to be at 6 weeks again and be on such solid ground. Cravings have morphed into reactions, and the latter are much easier to observe and deal with.

I had a lot to say tonight re: AA, and cravings, and anger, and addiction, and… Alas, it’s not gonna happen. For tomorrow then. Say night, night, Unicorn with Sparkly Teeth. You’ve been a strong girl lately.

Of course I want to drink! But I won’t…

24 Apr

11:58 pm

And, I know I won’t. For now anyway. This post is mainly for others, to shore them/us up in the face of those continual cravings. I’m not proud of it, but almost a year later and I still have a LOT of cravings. Then again, I’ve made a lot of big changes, am trying to resolve some important decisions (to have kids or not, to move back to the mainland or not, to go back to school this fall for another master’s degree or not), and feel at odds between the two! Before I quit drinking, I don’t think I would’ve been so easily able to articulate exactly what is triggering my cravings, so that, I would say, is DEFINITE progress. Go, me. (I think?)

I remember the first many months (six?) of getting sober, and they weren’t easy at all. And, for some reason, I’ve been having trouble putting thoughts into words (gasp!) the past few days, so here’s a numerical list of some of what I’ve learned since last June about the ongoing process of choosing not to drink instead of drink:

1. I always want to drink. And, when people at AA meetings, or on the blogs, say that “the urge to drink has left them” or “being sober is so fucking awesome,” I CANNOT reflect that. It just does not gel as true for me. OF COURSE I WANT TO DRINK. Duh. Yes, I like drinking. Yes, I want that first glass or three. Yes, I like feeling buzzed; I want that feeling of warmth, of place, of lack of struggle against my existential issues. I LIKE feeling nothing, sometimes. And, frankly, a part of me thinks that wine was a good solution, at some point in my life. And, damn it, sometimes I really miss it.

2. In general, hating on oneself is PART OF THE DRINK. Once I got sober, I realized that all that self-loathing and self-ruminating was, in fact, not necessary to hold on to. The longer I went sober, the less sad and depressed I felt, the less I was beholden to the past, the less I felt the need to say I was sorry about the horrifying things I had said or done. I learned that it was not only OK to let it go, but also that I needed to. No more apologies. No more beating myself up. I’m not saying that amends aren’t needed, but when you continue to remain sober, you start to let it all go. And, if that includes friends and family members who choose to either hold onto their grudges or be fearful of your newfound emotional maturity, well, they CAN go; they’re not worth fighting to keep.

3. Getting sober (at least getting a handle on it) BEFORE hitting AA meetings is the way I would advise myself to do it. I found, personally, that going to AA meetings was a HUGE stressor. All these “steps,” all this “ideology” that I didn’t know whether or not I agreed with (I don’t); it was all Way Too Much. Some of the time, I had to uncomfortably defend myself against the “AA bullies” at the meetings, saying repeatedly, I need to take my time, I need to do it in my own time. Looking back, I can now say that it’s this, simply: Getting sober comes first, getting “right with God” comes a distant second. My refusal to cave in the face of everyone at the meetings pressuring me to “do it their way” was by far, the best foot I’ve ever put down. Getting sober does NOT require any kind of spiritual epiphany, in my opinion. Getting sober requires your acknowledgement, slow as it may come, that the reason this is so hard is because addiction changes your brain circuitry. Getting sober requires you flexing your sober muscle–which is you not drinking when you really want to–over and over and over again.

I’m pretty sure that *if I had not run into severe consequences,* I would have kept drinking. For sure, actually. Yet, with crippling hangovers and the inability to predict what I would do when I was blacked out, it was simply no longer an option. It was like, drinking wine could be as dangerous as drinking toilet water. It might NOT be, but it COULD be.

All that being said, I can say that I like being sober. And, here’s what I like specifically:

1. Not giving up my power.
2. Not feeling trapped by the desire to drink away my social anxiety.
3. Not revealing my anger, especially in its raw form.
4. Being able to see others for who they are.
5. Being able to make choices based on real information and real emotional feedback.

I go back to these things in my mind, and like others, play out the horrifying–and possible fatal–video to the end. I think a LOT about how drinking would take away my power, how it would expose me, how I’d make bad choices based on really bad information. I just can’t. I’ve come to care about myself way too much to do that to myself anymore!

What I’m saying is, you can still really want to drink and not feel like a noncommittal failure because of this. Wanting to quit (action based on higher brain planning) CAN COEXIST–does, I bet in 100 percent of the “cases”–with wanting to drink (desire based on inner brain reacting). Take a deep breath, then, and know you are on the right track.

(And, then she hit “delete.” Oh, yeah! The best part about being sober? Being willing and able to simply think all of the above and then…let it go. All these thoughts came, they will all go, and I don’t have to either react or care about them. Huzzah!)

So much to post, but I’ll start with…Day 35 tomorrow

21 Apr

11:18 pm

But, it hasn’t been easy, or as easy as I thought it would be, I have to admit.

It’s been a few days since my last post–I’m sorry for getting lazy about acknowledging all of your amazing and supportive comments–and as seems to be the case with this “getting sober” business, I’ve gone up, down, and side to side. Some days I’m like, Aww, YES, this sober stuff is awesome! I feel good, I don’t want to drink, I’m getting shit done, I can’t wait to get more shit done. No wolfie-boy on my back, howling for a sip of red wine. Easy.

Other days–and there have been several–I’m like, FUCK THIS NONSENSE. My life isn’t that much better sober, and well, is it me, or do people just annoy me more? People–you know, I have a hard time with people, as an introvert; I just don’t get them. Choosing (being forced?) to interact with and witness other people while constantly sober? Well, let’s just say, it’s not the same without my merlot-colored glasses; I find myself wondering why so many people seem so fucked up and thinking how no one is as funny or kind or interesting as they once were. (Confession: I am REALLY FUCKING TIRED of the mainstream media blowing this Boston mess up, and I am PMSing. So, getting around me with a knife is a definite no-no at the moment, as might be taking any of my angry words to heart.)

Tonight, though, after a few days of simply biting down and letting the feelings/thoughts pass–for once, it feels, I am truly happy to have not given in. Over some bridge. At the clearing. (This has happened before, if I remember correctly back to a post I wrote last summer, but not nearly the same sense of conclusion: I don’t miss drinking once the urge to drink actually passes.)

I’d say that prior to today, not giving in was up to about 95 percent awesome; the remaining 5 percent was, Aww, man, I still missed out on getting buzzed, though! Not today. I’m relieved to have sat through the cravings, knowing full well–and trusting more and more in this experiential knowledge–that they will. Go. Away. And that, nothing–not one thing–is worth drinking over. (Yesterday I tripped while running and sprained my ankle; I cursed and cried and hated on my life, and was like, Why is this shit SO hard? All of this? My reaction was to want to drink; not that I wanted to be drunk, but I wanted to drink. Pretty soon, I was home, icing the ankle and realizing that no, I didn’t want to drink, and no, it really wouldn’t make me feel better, and no, it SO wasn’t worth breaking my 35-day streak over.) In fact, I don’t (really?) miss having been high, and I definitely don’t miss the memory loss, the confusion, the fake emotional roller coaster, the hangover, the disappointment and frustration…

Honk, honk! Sober mack truck, coming through!

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. 🙂

Loose ends

12 Apr

10:23 pm

I feel like my life is a bunch of loose ends right now–or, maybe one big loose end. And I can’t rush tying any of the knots.

I know, I know: healing takes time. However, it’s taken–taking?–me a good many, MANY months to, let’s just say, begin to embrace the downtime. The waiting. Sometimes it’s of my own accord, and sometimes it’s against my will.

What do I mean by this? Well, as a freelance writer, I’m either doing one of three things, I’ve found: working, procrastinating, or looking for work. None of these are fun, I have to admit, and it’s hard to embrace spending my time like this–and being acutely aware of it ALL THE TIME because I’m sober. (In fact–and don’t get me wrong, I’m usually really glad to be sober these days–it gets tiring being sober all the time; like, WHEN do I get a break?) I spend a LOT of time wondering what’s wrong with me in that my “oomph” seems to have disappeared. The rest of the time, it seems, I’m thinking about the “then what.”

I’ve been trying to figure out the “then what,” and sometimes I feel like it’s all too much and doesn’t matter anyway. No, I don’t necessarily want to drink, but that almost makes me feel worse: I must have completely given up on “making things better” if I don’t even believe for a second (OK, a minute) that wine will help! At least when I was drinkin’, I somehow equated drinking with at least TRYING to make things better. It’s a fucked up mentality, but it still sort of makes sense to me.

I know all these thoughts are just thoughts–or, better yet, thought loops–and that if I simply wait, or ignore them, they’ll go away. Or, I can watch them and think, Man, no wonder I drank, these thoughts are bullies of the first degree! Negative thoughts. They’re not any different from other people’s, I’ve realized; I’m not unique, and that’s a good thing. Yet, I still have good days and bad days when it comes to DEALING with the thoughts. On good days, I collect them all into one big folder and hit delete. Buh-bye. On bad days, well, I let them control how I feel. Which usually turns out to be bad.

I’m learning how to use better coping mechanisms, though, which is a direct result of HAVING to, due to not using wine anymore as my blanket and crutch. Crying works, but only if I allow myself to cry and then turn it off (Do I REALLY have to cry about not having published a book yet? No.). Taking a few deep breaths, putting on my shoes, and going for a run helps a LOT (actually, doing any kind of forward-moving activity helps). Drinking way too much caffeine makes it worse (duh), and well, catching myself beFORE I turn into a self-pitying mess of angst is best. Talking it out, writing it out, these help, too. Getting shit done helps, of course, but also, realizing that Rome wasn’t built in a day; sometimes, the (excruciatingly?) slow plodding is necessary, even though we don’t feel it to be satisfactory. I’d be the first to admit that I’m addicted to “doing” and to accomplishment; these are deep-seated habits, let’s just say, born out of years of being socialized to believe that achievement equals success.

Some of my coping mechanisms are better than others, of course, but the main thing I’m learning as I continue to have to confront myself and stay sober is: just sit and wait–and feel it–and the shit passes. Night turns into day, a mood turns up instead of down, and I feel one step closer to being able to actually tie up some of these loose ends. And that one step HAS to be enough. And, it is. It didn’t use to be, and I thank God(dess) for the brain’s ability to learn, and grow.

The “problem”–and this applies directly to the process of getting sober, too–is that implementing change is a step-by-step process. Sort of like a science experiment. Imagine being a researcher who spends years, a lifetime even, trying to figure something out? It’s all about incremental steps forward. And, often, that is the BEST we can hope for.

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Just a normal lass from Yorkshire and her journey into happy sobriety

runningfromwine

Welcome to my journey to end my addiction to wine!

Without the whine

Exploring the heart of what matters most

My Sober Glow Journey

Join the Sober Glow Sisterhood — where sober living meets self-love.”

New Beginnings

My Journey to Staying Sober.

Sober Yogi

My journey to wholeness

'Nomorebeer'

A sobriety blog started in 2019

A Spiritual Evolution

Alcoholism recovery in light of a Near Death Experience

No Wine I'm Fine

An alcoholfree journey in New Zealand with a twist

Untipsyteacher

I am a retired teacher who quit drinking and found happiness! After going deaf, I now have two cochlear implants!

Life Beyond Booze

The joys, benefits and challenges of living alcohol free

Functioningguzzler

In reality I was barely functioning at all - life begins with sobriety.

Mental Health @ Home

A safe place to talk openly about mental health & illness

Faded Jeans Living

Life. Growth. Kindness

Moderately Sober

Finding my contented self the sober way

Sober Courage

From liquid courage to Sober Courage

Musings Of A Crazy Cat Lady

The personal and professional ramblings of a supposedly middle aged crazy cat lady

Life in the Hot Lane

The Bumpy Road of Life as a Woman 45+

Wake up!

Operation Get A Life

doctorgettingsober

A psychiatrist blogging about her own demons and trying to deal with them sober

Storm in a Wine Glass

I used to drink and now I don't

Off-Dry

I got sober. Life got big.

Dorothy Recovers

An evolving tale of a new life in recovery

Lose 'da Booze

MY Journey towards Losing 'da Booze Voice within and regaining self-control

Life Out of the Box

Buy a product, help a person in need + see your impact.

Laurie Works

MA., NCC, RYT, Somatic Witch

Drunky Drunk Girl

A blog about getting sober

The Soberist Blog

a life in progress ... sans alcohol

soberjessie

Getting sober to be a better mother, wife, and friend

mentalrollercoaster

the musings and reflections of one person's mental amusement park

TRUDGING THROUGH THE FIRE

-Postcards from The Cauldron

Guitars and Life

Blog about life by a music obsessed middle aged recovering alcoholic from South East England