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It starts with forgiving yourself

13 Jul

1:35 pm

So, as I was powering–yes, I believe I can use that word today!–up and down the hills here on a HOT and HUMID (af) jog, I started to think about how I got here, to being sober and being able to go jogging after a night of 3.5 hours horrible perimenopause sleep (there was some rage, too).

How did I get here? Simple: I forgave myself. Of course, it wasn’t simple or easy, and I am still working at it, but, that’s the gist of it!

In order for me to be here, now, jogging through this heat–giving myself this gift, not as punishment, but as reward–I had to forgive myself for last night, for my belief that somehow, I caused my insomnia; for getting angry; for all the negative feelings that insomnia leaves you grappling with, the next day. In order for me to be doing this good thing for my body, I had to respect myself, like myself, love myself enough to say, I forgive you and you deserve to be treated kindly.

I truly believe that getting sober–shit, getting through every single hangover–required first and foremost that I forgave myself; I forgave myself not only in spite of hating myself and feeling guilty because I didn’t believe I deserved to be forgiven and to have a better life, but also in spite of almost everyone else not forgiving me, too.

Self-forgiveness, forgiving oneself–it is an act of radical self-love. Getting sober starts with deciding to forgive yourself for the night before, the two or three weeks before, the months, years before. It is necessary, EVEN IF everyone else in your life believes that you don’t deserve forgiveness, thereby reinforcing your doubt and your guilt.

You are allowed to forgive yourself in order to move forward; you HAVE to forgive yourself in order to move forward. Moving forward involves the practical step of quitting drinking–of practicing not drinking when you really want to, because shit WILL go down and you are so tired of shit going down. Moving forward also requires something less tangible, which is the active step of loving yourself enough to say, It’s OK, I still believe in you, to say, I forgive you, and you get to try again today–you got this, and no one, not even YOU, can convince me that you don’t deserve it.

As I was running, I kept thinking that, so many people wouldn’t have forgiven me for the many nights, weeks, months, and years of my drinking; many still haven’t. But, *I* did, and I am glad I did–I believed, in spite of what my mind told (and tells) me, that I deserved it. It is right to forgive yourself, and it is right to love yourself! I wouldn’t be running up and down these hills, doing pretty good at it, I must say, if I didn’t believe I deserved to offer this exercise to my body, mind, and spirit (all of which really needed it today!).

On that note, I continue to prepare for my next interview, which is tomorrow. I had one last week, and I am now moving into what will hopefully be a series of interviews over next few weeks. A friend of mine is worried about finding a job in the time of Covid, and I have to admit, I could let it make me feel anxious, if I let it. I choose to not let it; what will be, will be.

One more thing: we took our doggie swimming the other day, and it totally helped her walking the next day. So, time to incorporate some water therapy into her regimen. Love my girl WAY TOO MUCH! Haha…

Exercise is my medicine

19 May

4:41 pm

Or, maybe I should say, putting my body into motion, out of doors!  (of course, I am talking about outdoors in a warm climate; yeah, I used to suit up and go jogging in the snow…in my early 20s, when I was too broke to afford a gym/didn’t know any better–haha)

Long story short, I have been thinking about thinking lately–well, a lot; obsessed with it, actually.  Is it called, metacognition?  I think that might be an actual area of study, and I am FAR from being in a place of that much understanding when it comes to what I think and why I hold onto my thoughts.  I have been tempted for many, many months to stop writing altogether, including in my journal–I wonder, is focusing on bringing the chatter, the negativity, the maybe-meaningless observations to life in the form of words and sentences only serving to perpetuate a state of stagnation, of wallowing, of confusion?

Most of my life, and especially as someone who likes to write (or, let’s face it, a writer; I can’t not write, and sometimes I think that is 100% compulsion, not desire); I have put value on both my thoughts and analyzing my thoughts–as if they were important, or held some key to the meaning of life, or at least the meaning of MY life.  After getting sober and writing about the process, which, admittedly involved a LOT of thinking and thoughts (haha); then moving into more longer-term sobriety, where the thinking and thoughts have become more like incessant chatter and less like answers to the problems of the universe–I don’t really know where thinking and thoughts fit into my overall picture of mental health anymore.

Anyway, today, I drafted a long post, discovered that much of it sounded, well, insane, and was like, GAH, I need to walk away from this.  I suited up in my running gear and went out into nature.  And I swear, all the chatter stopped.  And, it was glorious.  This is why I run, walk, or swim, or do yoga–always in constant motion, it seems.  It just soothes my mind; quiets it.  I mean, as I was gliding along, I just looked around at the trees, the hillside with different patterns of shadows and sunlight coating the asphalt, the multicolored homes of different angles, shapes, and sizes–I looked around and asked myself, so, are you thinking anything when you look around at nature, when you feel the sun on your shoulders?  Yes, but no.  I am thinking, but it’s more of a one-tone feeling of peace, of rightness, or nothing-good-or-bad-it-just-is.  I don’t judge the world around me, and most importantly, it doesn’t judge me (or, I don’t believe it does).  It is not thinking toward me, and I am not thinking toward it.  I just feel this uplifted feeling, and it is simply positive.  Not necessary to think anything; just necessary to be, which is easy out there, in the natural world.

There is something about being around other people that is incessant chatter-provoking.  I would say, being in the natural world, generally, is thought-provoking (the good kind of thinking; the big thoughts that help you solve a problem or see something more clearly).

I just love exercise; I always feel better, less thought-full, literally.  And, rejuvenated, especially if I’ve exercised outdoors.  I guess I can say that exercise is my medicine; my anti-chatter “pill.”  And, these days, I am beginning to wonder if MOST, if not all, of my thinking is chatter…  Which begs the question, what does a writer write about if most of what she thinks she considers useless chatter?

On the dog front, our girl is plugging away, better than she was a few weeks ago when her left hind leg gave out.  It seems to have gotten less lame–she can walk on it now, but not that far.  Good news is, she can go on walks, usually only one per day, if that.  Bad is that, even though her left hind seems better than non-functional, both her hind legs are very weak; I have to use the harness for most of the walk these days to help her stand, walk, and um, pee and poop (let’s face it, she poops sitting down almost all the time now).  Her mental faculties are there, and she is still fierce and funny; it’s just…I can’t forget that her time is short.

And, I am still off the ‘book (Facebook), five weeks as of yesterday.  While I don’t necessarily miss anyone’s updates, or the noise; I am starting to feel a bit…isolated, or out of it.  So…that’s that; I’ll probably go on soon, but it’s nice to be in my bubble a little bit longer to continue to collect myself (so that I can go back out there, into the external world, and give of myself while also stay centered and sane).

Cutting back on…sugar, and old habits

28 Jul

10:55 am

The past two days, I’ve tried to ix-nay sugar completely from my diet. Um, YEAH. Gotcha.

I’ve realized that cutting out sugar entirely, immediately–instead of weaning myself off–will lead to sugar withdrawal, which I guess I had a bit of yesterday: I was sad and lethargic, and felt like my brain was hovering around “off” for most of the day. Sigh. No more extremes. (And, with sugar, I don’t think it’s prudent to be so black-and-white about it.) So, I think I’m going to start by cutting BACK on Diet Coke–maybe one a day, if I need it, or two if I’m indulging. I’ve been drinking at least a liter a day regularly for about nine months?, several cans a day since I quit drinking, and at least a 20-ounce of regular Coke every day since about 2007. I’m sure I drank soda before then, but it was mainly coffee (in the day) and wine (at night).

I noticed I drink Diet Coke like I drink wine, fast and furious. However, there’s something more dangerous about drinking liquid sugar; you can drink and drink and drink, until you get sick, but you won’t black out or pass out. Which means, you can keep drinking more. PERFECT.

It was interesting to watch my mood swings yesterday, and me push through them. It was like I was on autopilot, and my sober mind had taken over. I DID have a craving to drink–a pretty big one. I haven’t really seriously thought of drinking for a while, and this was minor, but big enough to have to turn on the virtual “this is the shit that will go down if you drink tonight” movie in my mind. I counted the number of weeks I have left to get to 22, which was close to my last sober record of 158 days. But then, I took a magnifying glass to what, exactly, I wanted, and HOW, exactly, I was planning to effect that change. The “how” part was new: I’ve gotten myself to reflexively look at what is tripping my drinking switch, but never how to turn it off.

I could very clearly see that my sadness wasn’t necessarily brought on by a sugar low, though that was part of it. I was, and am, lonely. I don’t have many (any?) friends here. I don’t go out. EVER. I could admit to myself last night, on my run, that no, I still haven’t accepted let alone embraced socializing sober. It’s not as strong as it used to be, but I’m still convinced that “there is no point” to going out and not drinkin’. (By go out, I mean to bars and clubs.)

Then I thought, well, you have two neighbors who are free tonight, why not ask them to do something with you? Granted, I had planned to work yesterday, which means that Saturday night or no Saturday night, I am trolling the journals and (for a new project) slogging through complicated stories on the latest in cancer research and treatment–that’s just how I do. However, I didn’t ask, or invite. I think I might have felt better if I had forced myself to socialize instead of doing the usual, which is running alone on the beach and/or working on a Saturday night.

At one point in the run, I simply concluded that I am still living, in a way, like my “old drunk self,” simply without the booze. By that I mean, I still isolate (prefer to be alone), I just don’t do it with wine. It takes a LONG time to change our ingrained habits and defense mechanisms, doesn’t it?

It’s not easy for me to socialize, mainly because I FEEL like I don’t want to, but also because it’s just not in my nature (habit) to engage instead of isolate. “Make yourself available,” is what one of my old roommates used to tell me. That was over a decade ago. I was isolating then, I am isolating now. I guess maybe drinking gave me a way to isolate and not feel bad (or anything!) about it.

Sure, it’s nice to be alone sometimes, have a weekend by myself. What I do, though, hasn’t changed since I hung up my drinking shoes: NOT inviting people over, out, or IN to my life. I wanted to drink to avoid this realization, but that was pointless; there it was. I ran more. I wanted to drink to not feel slightly angry at myself, defeated, and sad. Within about a minute, or less, I had worked out that no, drinking would not fix any of this, and no, actually, I didn’t want a drink. What I wanted–needed–was real change. To feel better. And, how can I feel better? Change my habit of isolating.

The point is, the craving came and went, but I was able to see through it. What was making me want to drink, and what I could do–besides drink–to fix the problem. I was looking for solutions to the real problem, and not just a way to dodge the craving for wine. Wolfie has no clothes, as it were. I can see right through to your scrawny, starved frame, your salivating, dried-up tongue…FUCKING FUCK YOU, WOLFIE!

I am on Day…? 132. 19 weeks tomorrow. I suppose 22 weeks plus 4 days will be my immediate goal, but I’m truly curious to see what comes after six months. Will there be glitter? Balls of it? Will there be unicorns with sparkly teeth, smiling at me from a chorus line on the beach? Or, will it be more like a Broadway musical? Maybe a Broadway musical with glitter and a unicorn parade?

Unicorns and glitter balls all around!

3 Apr

1:11 am

So, I’m on day 15–actually, just finished my 15th day sober. For the fourth time. (Starting last June, I went 60 days, then 5 weeks, then (cringe) almost 6 months). And, you know what? Unicorns and glitter balls all around!

I’m going to take deep breaths more often this time. I’m going to celebrate my milestones, instead of gritting my teeth as they rush by. And I think that, while it’s going to be more difficult (that slip really dislodged the little voice in my head that is still on repeat somewhere, telling me that I can drink one day), it’s going to be more meaningful. How? Well…I think it’s simply getting back to believing the OTHER voice again, the one that says that I don’t want to drink. That is going to simply take work. Not necessarily commitment, or passion, or pink clouds, or planning or willpower. Just hard work. And, while it scares me a little to feel so…well, like, the tip of the pencil is dull and I want to stop writing, put it down, and look around; I know I can get back into the mindset again.

Anyway, yeah. Life is moving ahead. Job searching, grad school applying. I got back on the running horse today and did an easy 4 miles. I hurt my left foot the weekend before last on my long 7-miler. It’s taken over a week to “heal,” and it felt great to get back on the trail. The foot hurt a bit in the last mile today (like, felt inflamed), so I’m going to go back to my old shoes on the next run, see if the support might be better. If you want to train down here, though, beyond a few miles, you can’t really avoid going up and down the volcanic hills at some point…and pound-pound-pounding down them. Yet, all was well up until I got these new shoes, which SEEM to be a better fit, but maybe simply aren’t? Anyhoo…it’s a great incentive for me to stay sober; I associate running with sobriety, and the hard work taking it back; something that relies on my sobriety (and maybe vice versa).

So, yes, rewards. Treats. Celebratory high-fives with myself. Heck, let’s throw in some unicorn parades and glitter balls, too!

Day 5 of unicorns, glitter, and an arsenal of AWESOME

23 Mar

1:52 pm

Hi, guys. I’m back…! 😉

Aside from having had to endure a three-day (yes, I’m not kidding) hangover, and now, what feels like a stomach flu of some sort, I’m back on it: counting days (I’m a sucker for goals), running, doing my work, walking the dogs, and looking into some new professional and personal opportunities down here and elsewhere.

I have, honestly, thought of drinking. Why not, I’ve already fallen off? It was a quiet thought, and I guess–before I beat myself up about having it–at least I heard it, spotted the little fucker, and plucked it out/cut it down almost immediately! However, WTF? We all know that we have selective memory when it comes to drinking and hangovers, but yet…this was more like, an “in” for the wolf. I left the window open a crack, and that piece of shit was poking it’s stinking nose back in. (Though, maybe it’s my fault, as I left out the dog bed for it to sleep on; sure, a *dog* bed for a wolf, but a bed nonetheless. I should trash it, and lock him out for good, I know this now.) I can see how people can relapse; not necessarily go back to drinking like they did, but go back to thinking they can–isn’t this most of what is wrong, our thoughtful obsession with drinking, and how it’s supposed to do this and that and everything else for us, but does none of those things? Still, I CANNOT BELIEVE myself, actually considering drinking after feeling so bad for two, going on three, days.

The state of mind I was in, too, was telling: I felt low to the ground, sad, depressed, shaky, and in general, uncertain. There was this feeling of not being sure, about anything. I can’t even put my finger on WHAT I was trying to feel sure about, but there was definitely a disconnect between my feet, my heart, my head, my soul…and the ground. MY GROUND. That’s what I felt, and I did not like it. I like feeling the EXACT OPPOSITE while sober, actually. I have to say, I LOVE LOVE LOVE the small yet magnificent sense of mind, presence of action, and general “on it”-ness I got used to feeling while sober. It’s this that comprises my arsenal of AWESOME, which is so much better than all the lame “tools” I thought I had to deal with life while drinkin’.

I’m feeling better, and about to embark on my 7-mile run today. Ha ha. Hahahahaha. We shall see. Of course, drinking on Monday night fucked up my running schedule, and when I finally got back on the horse on Thursday, I felt SO tired that I could barely keep upright. I wanted to lie down in the gravel next to my car, or better yet, on the side of the road, and go to sleep!

See you later, friends!

Off to the races…

23 Feb

11:22 pm

So, I ran my race today and DUDES, I felt GREAT. Not good, but GREAT, during like, 98 percent of the run! Over the course of the first 5 miles, we ran up 1,000 feet, and then the last 3 miles were all downhill–which, btw, pass really fast after you’ve been heaving uphill for 5 long miles.

I felt great. Did I say I felt great? Totally pain-free. WTF? Except for a minor accident yesterday during which I tripped over a rock while walking the dogs, stubbed my toe, and bruised it pretty badly (I KNOW, the night before the race I’ve been training for since December)–I didn’t feel any pain.

I came in 129th out of 677 women! And, 13th out of 73 women in my age group. YES! And, as I crested the last hill and looked out upon an absolutely amazing vista of ocean and islands and sleek, rising sun, I thought, I would not be doing this if I wasn’t sober. Period. I mean, really. I could have run the race, sure, but consistently being able to train ONLY because I was never hung over? That’s why I had endurance, and strength, over the course.

Anyway, I’m super-tired, but just wanted to say, Who’s up for a half-marathon? Training starts Monday. 😉

“Hill work” would be an understatement

9 Feb

11:14 am

HOLY shit. THAT was interesting.

Five miles pretty much all uphill. And, the downhills hurt more than powering up the uphills because my knees (mostly left–finally, the pain is back where it has been and should be?) hurt a lot going down.

Jesus. They don’t call it “8 Tuff Miles” for nothin’! To give you some idea, at about 5 miles, we reached the highest elevation of the course–999 feet. That means, sea level to 1,000 feet above sea level over the course of 5 miles. Like I said, all uphill.

I have to say–cheesy, but here it comes–powering up those hills (well, one long hill) reminded me a LOT of moving through getting sober! Repeating those moves that just don’t come naturally, like running up a sustained incline for over an hour, over and over until you can actually force yourself to do them! Or, going slow and not stopping, not stopping unless you have to. Breathing into the pain and breathing out–sitting with it (well, moving with it). Bracing for hard work, but knowing that you’ve got this, you’ve practiced your moves, all you have to do is keep going.

My legs felt strong, and that’s because I’ve been practicing this incline shit for a few weeks already. But, dayum! Gotta take a break before I go and pound more on these knees, yes I do.

And…yup, feels pretty darn awesome to have gotten up, gotten my ass over to the course, and run it–all before…8:30, I guess. My time was 1 hour, 5 minutes, 30 seconds. That’s 13-minute miles, which I’m pretty OK with seeing how the course was all uphill and I had to walk some of it and most of the steep downhills.

It’s also awesome to like, not thought it really all that astounding or medal-worthy that I got out of the house before the sun came up. Drinkin’ days? It never happened. EVER. Especially to work out or run a race. Years-never, we’re talking about.

Happy weekend, friends.

Moving on from thinkin’ about drinkin’, or, life after 90 days

12 Jan

1:54 am

Yes, folks, I’m actually not thinking that much about drinking. Say WHAT? I’m just kind of grooving on living, drink-free, and not wanting what I “don’t have” or wishing that “I could have fun.” (In fact, when I look around now, and see people on Facebook, for instance, lugging shittons of booze on like, ski trips with their significant others, I have to wonder WHY…but that’s another post.) It really is a rational thought *process,* convincing your brain–or re-setting it back to NORMAL–that being drunk does not equate to having fun. Much of my process of quitting drinking has actually been quitting relating drunkenness with fun, and stopping equating chemically-induced numbness with calm.

The other day in AA, I heard some woman lamenting the fact that she was still a “lunatic” until she started doing the steps. Well, if it takes you 11 years (as it did in her case) to realize that being drunk is not, actually, all THAT much fun (compared to having real conversations and doing real things with your friends and family), then… I don’t know. I don’t want to hate on AA again/anymore, but my 90-day chip meeting will likely be one of my last. At least for now. Meetings make me cringe; I feel very uncomfortable inside “the rooms.” But, I’ve realized that some people simply need that “tough love,” that rigidity, that almost thoughtlessness of approach–deviation from the formula can pretty much guarantee relapse, I think, for some people who simply want to stop drinking but can’t immediately (or ever, let’s face it) process the motivation(s) behind getting shitfaced on the regular. So, yeah. Check ya later, AA.

Anyhoo… So, I’m working on an editing project on memory–everything from how memories are encoded in our brains to memory and trauma–and I came across something that made me pause: problems with substance abuse and addiction, some researchers say, are actually problems with memory. For instance, associations, i.e., memories, take over when you think about drinking, which makes it hard to untangle the the associated memories from the getting drunk memories. How can I not want to drink when I’m at the beach, for example, when that’s what I’ve always done? When that’s what’s been encoded in my brain–thinking about one makes me remember the other, and vice versa. It’s why drinking becomes an obsession, I guess, because EVERYTHING makes you think about drinking. Like, I can’t forget all those times I drank at the beach so it makes it hard for me to go there and not drink, or not want to drink…unless they find a way to either erase those memories or replace them with something new or different. Therefore, can I truly be relieved of the obsessive thoughts while at the beach sober if I don’t work at minimizing or repressing these old memories? Interesting to read about an entirely new paradigm (that’s the word they used in the article, so I had to, OK?) regarding addiction.

It’s been a pretty slow past few days, which has been, literally, wonderful! Lots of dog walking, coffee drinking (decaf!), and reading/editing. I went running yesterday, and it was better than the first time. I liken my legs right now to baby giraffe legs–when I try to stand on them, they crumple. (While cute, it’s rather pitiful.) I think things should even out once I get on a normal (read: non-vampire) schedule, reign in the sweets (especially Diet Coke), and continue to push my legs a little longer each day/every other day. ‘Tread lightly’ is my mantra, and don’t worry about how far or how fast (“run” and “running” should be put in quotes until further notice).

Thanks, all, for your encouraging comments to my 90-day post! I honestly could not have done it without your support. Rock on, 93 days!

Do one new thing every day…

3 Jan

1:44 am

…is my New Year’s mantra! I’ve already broken a few resolutions, like, eat less cake and drink less Diet Coke, BUT… Resolutions are things to work on, not attain. When it comes to goals like these, it’s not all or nothing, it’s not black or white, and it’s not one-size-fits-all. Just like getting sober! (Not to mention, what does the Gregorian calendar have to do with my soda consumption? I’m sure the Pope wouldn’t really care if I didn’t eat less cake…)

I like the idea of having a year’s theme. In fact, I was reminded by Mished-Up’s awesome post just how productive declaring a “word of the year” can be! I did that for a few years back in my early 20s. One year it was something like Growth. Another year it was Change. A third was, This is the year of Creativity.

Haha, I KNOW. But the words resonated with specific things in my life at the time, and it seemed to work. If I had a word for this year, or a theme, it would be… ‘ME.’ Or, ‘BACK UP, BITCHES, AND MAKE SOME ROOM!’

ME, to me, translates to kicking ass. Starting. Getting to work. Making a bucket list and getting ON IT. Letting go of the past year and reaping some of the rewards of getting sober. So, I’ve decided that I’d like to try something new–something that’s probably been on my to-do list for years–every day. It doesn’t have to be exactly new, or even grandiose. It could be as simple as trying a new food, or trying to make a new kind of food. Ordering some crocheting tools online and starting my “plastic bag” project. Hiking a new trail. Visiting a new island. Pitching a story. Taking an online fiction class. Learning how to give a better massage. I mean, the list is ENDLESS!

I have the tendency to overthink things. I know, I know, it’s hard for some of you reading this blog to believe, but it’s true. 😉 Overthink and overplan. I’m trying to try something new this year, and to a certain extent, it’s out of necessity: I no longer have the energy to be a perfectionist, especially in the face of the work it takes to maintain my sobriety. The other day, after reading something (probably someone’s blog), I realized that most, if not all, of my recent choices and lack thereof have been based on my fear(s). Fear of doing stuff, fear of starting stuff. I’m a fearful perfectionist, and these two character traits have definitely prevented me from moving forward in my career, for example. They’ve also tied me to the wine bottle, as it’s easy to avoid confronting your fears–and your fear of your perfectionism getting the better of you in the creative process–when you CAN’T do anything because you’re either drunk or hung over. You can’t fail if you don’t try, right?

Anyway, it’s been a good new year so far. New Year’s Eve was fine, actually. Sure, I felt a few pangs, especially at midnight (though, the whiff of champagne I got from someone else’s glass made me feel almost sick–ah, the power of association), but I got over it quickly by remembering just how much I have. I guess, the whole “I do not want what I haven’t got” idea is hitting home these days because I really don’t want what other people “have” anymore. (The question is, what DO I want? Another day, another post.)

I felt good where I was at, no desire to be out and about, getting drunk. I was in bed by 2 (am, that is), and woke up to a bright, sunny day. And, what a great way to start off the new year–no hangover, no drama, nothing to hate myself for having done or say I’m sorry about for having said, no tracks to cover or mishaps to fix. My frustration(s) the other night have passed, and I’m “back on it,” as they say. I guess some days will be harder than others, but it was good to pinpoint my triggers (thoughts and then, feelings, that drive me into a tailspin) by actually observing them and not drinking them away.

And, one new thing a day? Well, my boyfriend and I hopped the 2 pm ferry over to [beautiful island] yesterday and hiked to a beach. We’ve been to that beach before so that wasn’t “new,” but we hiked around a resort and over a few trails that I had never been on, so that was! Today, I signed up for my first road race in like, years and years–8 Tuff Miles. It’s an 8-mile course up and over the hills of [beautiful island], so…it’ll give me a very good reason to stay sober past my 90-day goal. (Not to mention, my sciatic and leg pain have subsided to like, a 2 out of 10, so that’s a HUGE relief. I’ve been swimming to strengthen and now running to build muscle without overdoing it… The key for me is skipping yoga; basic stretches are OK, but anything else is counterproductive.)

Yes, the thought of drinking at 90 days has crossed my mind, but, WHY? I mean, what purpose would it serve? I like where I’m at now; I feel like I’m finally getting out from under some of my thought triggers. I want to work more, do more, and run at least every other day. HOW WOULD BEING HUNG OVER HELP ME? Not to mention, I have no “need” to drink: there is nothing that I want to run from, and I know that I have to face my issues and fears and goals and relationships, including the one with myself, sober if I’m going to move forward. Drinking just sets me back. How simple, but profound.

2013 and, well, life is the same–I’m still sober! Happy new year, indeed!

You’re ALL supposed to be on my blogroll…

5 Oct

2:32 pm

…but, you’re not! Must fix this tonight.

(For some reason — maybe I should tweak my widgets? — some of the AWESOME blogs by all of my AWESOME, ROCK-SOLID, INSPIRING sober bloggers aren’t showing up in my blogroll. This will change soon!)

On that note, I made it through one dinner sober while others were drinking, have to make it through another big one tonight, and then possibly one tomorrow night (which may not include booze, I’m not sure yet). THEN, I get to spend a LONG three whole days with my dad and step-mom in [Corn Belt state], where I must admit, the white wine in a box will definitely be calling my name.

BUT, hey, cravings come and cravings go. This is a fact. One that I really, well, approve of. (Yes, there are facts in life I don’t particularly approve of.) AND, I can do this. I really can. Last night, the whiff of wine made me feel sick, so I’m hoping even the IDEA of box wine makes me go, Oh, HELLS NO.

I have so many new insights I’d like to share re: this sobriety thing, but I must get outside today. It snowed here in [western state] last night, but it’s not too cold out right now. And, I really need to walk out some of the tension in my back. Good news is that the leg pain is subsiding = whew. Pretty soon, I think I’ll be able to start running again and get some of the harder-core detoxing and endorphins-releasing going on again! Thank God(dess).

See y’all soon!

ainsobriety

Trying to ace sober living

absorbing peace

my walk away from alcohol

soberisland

recovery from booze, a shitty father and an eating disorder

Violet Tempest

Dark Urban Fantasy & Gothic Horror

Walking in Sober Boots

Footfalls on a Path of Recovery

Sober Mormon

Navigating life after Mormonism

Ditching the Wine

Getting myself sober; the ups and downs

The Sober Experiment

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Sober and Well

Live your best life free from alcohol

The Phoenix Files

The Outspoken Opinions of S.M. Phoenix

cuprunnethover

Filling my Cup with What Matters

winesoakedramblings - the blog of Vickie van Dyke

because the drunken pen writes the sober heart ...

I love my new life!

Changing my life to be the best me. My midlife journey into sobriety, passions and simple living/downshifting.

Sunbeam Sobriety

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runningfromwine

Welcome to my journey to end my addiction to wine!

Without the whine

Exploring the heart of what matters most

Find Your Sober Glow!

5 and a half years sober - inspiring and supporting women to live their best sober life!

New Beginnings

My Journey to Staying Sober.

Sober Yogi

My journey to wholeness

'Nomorebeer'

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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

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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+

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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

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Laura Parrott Perry

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Finding a Sober Miracle

A woman's quest for one year of sobriety

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

Laurie Works

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Drunky Drunk Girl

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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

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Guitars and Life

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

changingcoursenow

A woman's journey to happiness and health

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