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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!

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Made it to my mom’s! Let the “No, thanks, I’m not drinking” begin!

4 Oct

2:00 pm

Sorry, this post is going to be a little all over the place, but I only have a few minutes to cover yet a lot more ground, another learning experience, and some new insights. I have to say, this ride is, at the very least, an interesting one!

So, “No, thanks, I’m not drinking”. Well, I don’t think I’ll have to be apologizing (why do I feel like that?) for not drinking around my brother and mom. They are extremely supportive of my quitting drinking, but still. Lots of chatting, eating, and general lounging makes for, well, lots of liquids being consumed. Oh, well, I really, REALLY do not want to be hung over here. Oof. NOT fun at this altitude.

Whew, what a frightfully busy past few days, which I’ll blog more about in detail later. In short:

After my trip to Palm Springs and Joshua Tree National Park (heart), I drove back to LAX on Monday and flew home that night. The next day — my last in [cold west coast city], thankfully — I rented a pickup and hauled some boxes to be shipped to the PO, cleaned, sorted, packed, re-sorted, dumped, left shit in my closet, DRANK, and in general, ended my “tenure” in that town on a very familiar — and depressing — note. I can go into it later, but the most important things are: I survived yet another hefty consumption of wine (two bottles = oof); and then, a VERY long next day packing my luggage, dropping lost/left items off (I passed out on my friend, ended up locking him out, and then had to repair the “damage” done by dropping of his left backpack at his offices downtown before heading to the airport yesterday morning = FUCK), giving up keys, catching cabs, flying, and shuttling in vans before I was able to put my head down on a soft pillow and forget about the night before and the early morning hours of dry heaving over my bathroom sink. (That’s happened a handful of times, and usually only after a LOT of alcohol. The worst part, though? Crying about it, because I felt so helpless. It was quite pitiful. BUT, I felt much better afterward and somehow (read: will of steel) made my way through the day.)

I am at my mom’s, and she’s great. I forgot how NICE it is to talk to her; and really, I must say, I feel relatively comfortable talking about my alcohol addiction. The last time I was here — a year ago? — it was obvious I had one, but I was very jumpy and still in denial. I have learned SO much over the past three months; over the course of my (attempts at) quitting, my acceptance of my addiction, my at least hitting a few AA meetings, my re-evaluation of my life and person and choices — my self-imprisonment, as it were. THE BEST THING ONE CAN DO IS ADMIT SHE/HE HAS A PROBLEM. What a positive thing. For some reason, I’m seeing it much differently; as in, if there is a problem, the first step toward solving it (success!) is finding it, defining it, and putting it into terms that can be worked out. When I look at addiction like that, I see nothing wrong or shameful about admitting you have a problem. The opposite, actually. It’s horrible that our society emphasizes the negative aspects of addiction and other “invisible” psychological illness when it’s recognized, rather than the opposite.

Much more to share, but we’ll be doing some stuff together today and then going over to my brother’s for dinner. While I’m still feeling open and revealing about the drinking thing, I’m not sure how much I’ll want to share again and again — my family, ironically, is a big fan of talking about things, in great and honest detail. (Except for me, who hides and keeps secrets. KEPT secrets.) BUT, I’m going to go in and y’know, tell it with pride and with decision: This is what I’ve done and what I’m aiming for the next few months, and I’m really glad about that and well, if you have your doubts, then have them, but I know I can DO THIS.

Thank you all for being there and listening. You are great friends to have on this journey. 🙂

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Nothing like a trip to the desert to get the juices flowing…

30 Sep

11:08 pm

And to Tire. Me. Out.

Over the past few days, I not only planned a last-minute — and cheap and fun and perfect — three-day, two-night trip to Palm Springs/Joshua Tree National Park, I went! (What girl who was a teenager in the late 80s/early 90s wasn’t in love with Bono — whatever he wants, I want! — and therefore, Joshua Tree? (Remember the album cover?) Hmm? I dare you to say you weren’t.)

A great “no duh” moment: I realized that planning — and doing — trips like these require that get-up-and-go, that “capable-ness”, that *something* that is so integral to a non-depressed, non-drinking human being, it’s hard to notice it’s even there until it’s gone. It’s like the tarp under your tent, or the roof on your house; integral, foundational. I haven’t taken a trip like this in a long time; I can’t imagine having had that decisiveness, that go-with-the-flow/everything-will-turn-out-fine attitude while drinking. I didn’t even think twice about how much energy or will it would take, I was too busy bouncing off the fucking WALLS when I booked my flights and hotel the DAY BEFORE! I’ve wanted to go to Joshua Tree for as long as I can remember, and Palm Springs (and Desert Hot Springs, for my back) just made sense. Anyway, more on that in another post, to come soon.

(And, man, the trip down was a trip. I was hung over (6th time’s a charm; today is Day 2… AGAIN.) and literally felt it until I dropped into bed at my hotel last night around 10 pm. I had been up since 4, and had gotten only 3 hours sleep. And flew, with a hangover. Flying while hung over should be made illegal; and yet, I can count on one hand the number of times I’ve flown NOT with a raging hangover. What sort of masochist am I?)

Long story short, I hiked a lot today — 7 miles — and my back feels great. Not pain-free, but not as bad as even just this morning. I think it’s due to one, the lack of humidity; two, the actual exercise of all those interconnected muscles that seem to be making one another more and more sore with less and less activity; and three, the lack of Hangover From Hell. (I must say, I am committed to getting back on it; that hangover was ridic, and the more I think about what I’ve gained from sobriety, the more I really Want What They’re Having, so to speak. And, the more I know I need it.)

More on all this later, and on some of my thoughts while hiking. I’m beat, and so will leave you with a lone picture of my beloved joshua trees.

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And, I’m back! And, happy about what I got done this summer!

28 Aug

10:41 pm

I just wanted to check in with y’all and let you know that after a grueling 18-hour journey, I’m back in [cold west coast city]. I got home yesterday, but was so tired I simply went straight to bed.

I had to fly three legs, and so getting through Miami on Monday — with Isaac about to hit the Gulf Coast — wasn’t easy. I was nervous after our “landing” in Miami, but turns out my connection to Dallas was delayed by several hours. By that time, we were able to get the HELL out of there in between the bands of rain, en route to Dallas where we’d spend another hour or so on the runway before taking off for the west coast. Whew. Just thinking about it makes me tired all over again.

Speaking of tired, I am. Very. BUT, I’m on day 11 and maintaining. I really want to make it past 60 days this time (remember, I caved on 61 a few weeks ago). Fortunately, I was able to get a lot of “paperwork” done today, mostly paying the bills and getting the mail — my PO box was overflowing after 12 weeks on the road — and I’ve got the next three days booked solid with work. Yes, I have three full days and then another month’s worth (on and off, but the pay will add up to adequate) of FREELANCE work. Check off a major goal!

I feel pretty good about what I’ve accomplished this summer. And, in order to not drink tonight — I, gulp, bought a bottle of red at Trader Joe’s this afternoon — I’m going to make a list of these items. I guess I just have the need to accomplish, and if that’s what it takes for me to not drink, so be it. And in any case, most of us are here to work; that’s what we do, that’s what we need, that’s what drives us. Maybe I’ll be off on another leisure trip soon, but right now, I’m happy to have something to carry me through to my SECOND day 14 (and beyond) of sobriety.

1. Moved out of my place in [cold west coast city] (basically) = sorted, packed, and shipped almost everything that I shipped to myself two summers ago from [cold east coast city] back to [cold east coast city]
2. Found a sublet (no slight task) in [cold east coast city], flew there, received my shipped items, and stored them in my storage unit = all my stuff is in one place, the place I think I’m most likely to call “home home” for the next several-to-many years…
3. Lived in [cold east coast city] for 6 weeks = the goal was to go back and live there for a while, so I could one, get a taste of life there now and if I really do want to move back, and two, follow up on some freelance contacts
4. Found freelance science writing work, met an editor(s), exchanged many emails, signed a few contracts, and lined up PAID freelance editing work = I am now officially freelancing for science magazines and biotech companies (one of each, but hey, it’s a start; I got my first payment direct deposited the other day)
5. Went to a friend’s wedding in Seattle, and stayed sober during = yay
6. Lived in [beautiful island] for 6 weeks, thanks to the HELP of my boyfriend = the goal was to stay sober, develop my relationship — not really something I’d “written down,” so to speak, but important to me — and see how the freelance thing and living with someone down there might be able to be made a permanent thing
7. GOT SOBER, thanks to the HELP of my readers and my boyfriend = sorta kinda, but 60 days is the longest I’ve ever gone, not to mention, I’ve had to work hard on the detox/withdrawal stages, opening up to AA, and training my mind to replace my cravings with basically everything else in life I’ve been avoiding or that have seemed to lose most of their luster
8. Lost weight = one of my ongoing goals is to run more and commit to bikram yoga, and I felt like, at least during my 6 weeks in [cold east coast city], I did that

They say that you shouldn’t make a lot of changes in your life when you’re trying to get sober. Well, I feel like I don’t have much choice. And, for me, the one major thing that helps me to stay sober is to remain busy; lacking goals and a sense of accomplishment is one of my biggest triggers, it seems.

So, there you have it. I’m tired and wanting to zone, so I’ll sign off. Yup, the craving is there but I’m just going to ignore it. Like the dishes, it’ll be there in the morning. (My mom always used to leave the dishes in the sink, saying, They’ll be there in the morning…)

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Island life, part 2

24 Jul

11:01 am

Well, another gorgeous day in the islands. Yup, I could move down here. It’s 10 am (I slept late), my boyfriend’s off to work, and it’s just me — and at LEAST six open, unfinished bottles of red. Sigh. We’re house-sitting at this amazing pad that overlooks several cays over the north side of the island. There are palm trees, all sorts of plants and flowers filling the space around; a hot, humid stank to the air that I love; boats passing on the blue-green water down below; a pool, a hot tub, all sorts of “adult” toys like, cable tv; three cute dogs to keep me company if I go out for walks or do some yoga inside the house (they love getting on the floor with me, they think it’s roll-around-on-the-floor time). It’s a paradise and I can only say, fuck yes, I get to see it at 6 weeks sober!

Yes, today marks 6 weeks. I’m not sure if it feels all that much different, to me anyway. I have lost a few “wine gut” pounds, which is a welcome side effect. However, that could also be due to having been sick — or maybe just in “mini-detox” — for the past, well, 6 weeks, and not being able to keep much food down (TMI, but it’s true; this drinking thing really affected my GI tract, I think). Maybe my insulin mechanics and metabolism are changed, for the better, since stopping drinking. I don’t know, but I like it. Plus, I’ve had a few people tell me that I’m “glowing;” honestly, though, I wonder if that’s (was) just the hot yoga doing the trick.

Overall, I feel calmer. Or, calm. Ha! That’s just…weird, for me. I’m sleeping better, feeling better when I wake, and generally speaking, glad to not be sick and hung in the mornings, able to read and write and get some work done in the afternoons, and up for running and/or walking in the evenings. It’s all rather…spectacularly normal! I guess.

Yet…

I’d love a cocktail right now. A glass of chilled red or white. I’d love to finish off the one or two bottles that look young enough to drink, and then uncork another. When I think about it, it’s not that my body wants it so much as my mind. I could even do without the drunk feeling, you know? I could do without the drunk feeling but would love to like, dunk my entire brain in the booze and activate all those circuits that made me feel, well, BETTER — excited, happy, alive — when I was drunk. The burning feeling in my belly, the drunk part, the blackout part (duh), I could do without. But the essence of wine…ahh…I could definitely pour it all over my body, every pore…

Gah, the cravings never go away, do they? Time to watch me some Intervention, or simply, turn on the news…

Sometimes I think, what wouldn’t I be capable of blacked out? Like, could the Aurora (CO) killer have been simply blacked out drunk? Can you imagine waking up from having done that, and realizing that you DID THAT? Killed a bunch of people in a theater? I’m sort of looking forward to hearing him talk; to finding out exactly what set him off, if he’s messed up in the head, or if, really, he was simply on something. Like booze. He sounds messed up, but still, the shit you are capable of doing while drunk is astounding. Scary as fuck.

How do I continue to resist my cravings, after the sun and sand and ridiculously nice life I get to lead, at least for the next few weeks? I think about — remember very clearly, actually — all the shit I’ve done blacked out.

Which begins my next series of posts: shit I’ve done while blacked out that one, I never ever want to repeat, and two, could actually be harbingers of worse to come, if I drink again. And I shudder to think about this, in a melodramatic sort of way, cuz really, worse COULD happen — my blackouts just kept getting more classic and much worse. Nothing seemed to get me to stop drinking. And what’s worse than sitting in a jail cell, breaking your arm, crashing a car while driving blacked out, getting fired from your job for going batshit on your CEO at your Christmas party? Nearly breaking your face after falling headfirst onto something REALLY hard in an outhouse? Sometimes I wonder, what is my “bottom?” Dying? Killing someone else? At 6 weeks sober, it’s thoughts like these, that while dark and the opposite of the hot, sunny day outside, I NEED to keep up close, in focus, right behind my eyes. It sucks, and sounds slightly ridiculous to dwell so hardcore on what many people have experienced (to some degree), but for me, there really is a fine line between “oh, just one” and a nightmare to relive the next day…

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Hello, islands! Too bad I can’t drink any of your booze…

17 Jul

1:38 pm

And, let me tell you (though, I probably don’t need to), there’s a shit-ton of it here! 😦

Again: 😦

Mental tantrum, deep breath, moving on. That’s all I can do. I’m here visiting a friend and fortunately, the hard part is over: I’ve already spent a few months down here before, drinking and not drinking; the point is, I know what the culture is like and I’m neither expecting to drink nor expecting it to be easy not to. AND, I’ve had FIVE WEEKS as of today to practice not drinking when I feel like I want to, with more than once hanging out at bars and not drinking. Sure, it sucks, and it takes focus, but it can be as much or more fun. Plus, you don’t get drunk and stupid, you don’t get drunk and sick, and you don’t have to deal with a hangover the next day.

Is it hard to not drink at bars, or on [beautiful island where I now live] (which, in essence, can feel like one island-sized bar)? Sure. I’ve wanted to drink since I got here two days ago. I mean, I feel the pull, the association of “vacation” with drinking, and then of “relaxation” or “break” (from daily grind) with drinking. However, I’m constantly rationalizing myself out of a drink anyway, so add a bar or an island-sized bar, and eh, it’s not that much different, is it? I’m always thinking about it, so here, it’s just a next-level challenge to which I have to apply that practice. Or rather, to which I have the opportunity to apply that practice. :/

Do I want a chilled glass of red wine right now? Hells yeah. Will the short-lived “buzz” (and now, I’m wondering, will the buzz be pleasurable or irritating? I’ve quit before, but not for this long, and even then, the buzz was sort of weird, I guess, after having not drunk for a few weeks…) be worth it? Nah. Not before, not during, not after. Sigh.

Still, it’s easy to get caught up focusing on the craving and not on the life around me, the astounding beauty of the island, the relative seclusion, the amazing view from my deck. The craving is so temporary, so fleeting, so…uninteresting, really, compared to the reality around me. And, quite frankly, the calm of being able to watch it stone-cold sober, remember it, and process the experience without it being tainted by booze or a hangover is seeming somewhat…the opposite of temporary. Timeless?

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