Tag Archives: alcoholism

Of dopamine and security blankets…

9 Aug

2:30 am

I bought a bottle of red wine today, the first time in over two months, and got it chillin’ in the fridge… But I hope to God(dess) that I don’t drink it! Do I like to torture myself? Am I really that much of a masochist? Apparently so.

Yup, I broke down and actually purchased a bottle of red wine tonight at Kmart (of all places, and a shitty $7 bottle at that!). OH, NO! Oh, yes. BUT, I made it past the craving or whatever it was today (severe PMS bipolar dip?) that made/allowed me to buy it and cart it home, so that’s good. I got distracted, I guess.

Did it help to get that bottle? What purpose is it serving if in the end, I choose NOT to drink it? Well, for one, it makes me feel excited. I recently watched a doc or something on TV about the neuroscience of addiction, and how people can’t, actually, say no to drugs and booze when they’re addicted. Why? Their dopamine circuits are too fucked up, and that is difficult — and deeply seated — brain chemistry to ignore. The interesting part for me was when the expert said that addicts will get a buzz just anticipating the using and boozing, and that the buzz is real. Yeah? Yeah. In fact, I’ve experienced that! It’s like, a total high from just anticipating, planning, looking forward to drinking.

When I bought the bottle, it wasn’t as huge as it might have been eight weeks ago, but a weight was lifted from my mind and chest (literally, my heart aches for red wine!) — I felt lighter, happier, excited about drinking. I had something to look forward to! Indeed, I might even become funnier, crazier, sexier, younger — or, at least, identify with that old (and DELUSIONAL) emotional self I constructed around drinking red wine. Point being, I’ve felt this anticipation and excitement before, just from having begun the planning process of drinking. My mood was noticeably altered.

I also did it to provide some kind of relief, solace, sense of security. Shit, whatever it takes, right? I know, it’s dangerous, but there’s a lot of booze in this house that I’m house-sitting for, and I haven’t touched a drop. And, the reason is not just cuz I don’t want to break my sober stride, but I also don’t want to have to deal with the fucking drama of replacing booze that may be expensive or have sentimental value for the owner. Been there, fucking done that. So, I’m learning to rationally apply what I’ve learned from my mistakes while drinking to my sober choices…at least up until this afternoon at the checkout in the big K.

It’s just grapes, my bad angel says. Just one glass.

The good angel’s getting better at holding her own, though. Why do it to yourself? Do you really need the buzz when half of it comes from just buying the bottle and bringing it home? Come ON, it’s shit wine, are you really going to go out on cheap red? What if, like last time you drank after being sober for a few weeks, you didn’t even get drunk, you just felt…weird? Will breaking your stride before you hit 90 days be worth it over four glasses of bad red wine? What about everyone who says you can’t do it (yourself included), friends who think you’re a drunk and always will be a drunk and are just waiting for you to slip up and start drinking again? Don’t you want to prove them wrong? What about your 57 days, your self-respect, winning the game?

(Sigh. So many thoughts for just one bottle of red wine…)

Feel like…drinkin’

6 Aug

1:23 am

Yup, that about sums it up. And, man, after the past few days of feeling frustrated and glum, it’s really hard not to say, Aww, come on, now, just one little glass of wine. You DESERVE it…

Sigh. I wish it were that simple, but it’s not. And that’s the most frustrating part. I want the quick fix. Bad feelings be gone! Dark moods/thoughts exit my brain! Please, just let me be. Instead, it’s constant, a permanent buzz. Last night, my brain took a nosedive into dark terre — this place that feels VERY bleak, empty, and motionless. It’s like my brain is being held under water in a dark pool, like every part has been switched off except the brainstem. I feel so lethargic, and depressed. There is nothing to do and no reason or rationale to do it. Life is pointless, and even if there is a fucking point, I won’t be told what it is or I am incapable of knowing. Sure, I could assume that I know — meditation, yoga — but really, isn’t that just a way to manipulate your mind and body into a state of calm embrace of the mystery instead of this screaming, abject horror at the absurdity?

Yeah, it’s DEFINITELY one of the reasons I drank, episodes like this. Lately, in the past many years, I’d turn to wine to deal. This time, I finally forced myself to wait it out. After, oh, about an hour, the worst of it had passed. I felt like I could breathe on my own again, and my mind started to open up, my pupils dilating enough to let in some light.

I’m glad I made it through that. However, I’m getting tired of it. Tired of having to simply fight the mind, day in and day out. It’s why I drank, and I’m not sure if it’s normal to feel this way, on varying levels, all day every day. But, I’ve had much worse depression/depressive episodes in my life, so I’d say it’s one, life in general, two, sobriety, or three, the daily grind of dealing quietly with my mood swings that is simply Getting To Me. I’d LOVE to take my brain out of my head and dunk it in a vat of red wine! Don’t even need or want to feel drunk, just want this anguish, I guess, to go away. At least for a little while. 😦

Addiction and AA? Hmm…

4 Aug

12:46 pm

Getting closer to 8 weeks sober, and that’s pretty much all that’s keeping me from cracking open a bottle of red and guzzling it these days. I just FEEL like drinking — it’s been taking all my concentration not to drink, actually. Then again, I’m much (yeah, much, I’d say MUCH) better at coping with the cravings using rational thought. As in:

If I drink one glass, I’ll likely finish the bottle, probably move on to two, or three, since I haven’t drunk for a while. Then, I’ll black out and well, who KNOWS what might happen at this point. At the very least, I’ll be hung the fuck over the next day, which will ruin it. And, I haven’t had a bad, ruined hung over day yet here (this time on island), and I’d really like to keep it that way. So, drinking equals hangover, which sucks.

I have to say, it’s amazing to me that I’ve “re-trained” my mind enough to WANT to choose not being hung over to drinking/being drunk. I’ve regained my sense enough to be able to see that while it’d be great — marvelous — to be drunk, it can only lead to bad things. Is three hours of drunkenness (or less) worth 24 to 48 hours of feeling horrible? Nope.

Again, it’s amazing to see just how you can re-train your mind, how you can overcome addiction, which is of the mind, not the body. AA would say otherwise. AA would also say that once an alcoholic, always an alcoholic. And I would say what I always say, fuck AA. Get over your dogmatic, outdated, and possibly never in-sync-with-addiction-science mentality, will ya?

Maybe I should give AA another shot, though. It is a community and once you’ve gotten over the hump of staying sober, it could simply be nice to have friends that get it. People who know what I’m going through, that could be there for me when I’m feeling sorry for myself and wanting to binge drink.

I dunno. Everyone talks about how helpful AA can be, and I agree that it IS helpful — to some, and as a way to quit. It wasn’t for me, as every time I went to a meeting, I totally felt like drinking after! All that talk of booze and blackouts…! It’s also a semi-load of bullshit: who made up those 12 steps? Not to mention, AA has always felt to me like you’re replacing one addiction — booze, sex, food, whatever — with another, meetings. Instead of looking inward at the circular thoughts of addiction, at your own reasons for using, or drinking, or binge eating, you’re told to look outside? To a “program?” I guess it’s a start, a method that you can use to quit drinking. Sooner or later, though, you’re going to have to STAY SOBER, which has nothing to do with 12 steps, saying you’re sorry, and turning to “god.”

In fact, I think it’s the (fake) religion of AA, like all religions, that serves the purpose of making folks believe that they’re actually managing their addictive tendencies when in fact, it’s the program that’s distanced them from these tendencies. It’s infinitely harder, I think, to take responsibility for managing an addictive personality or addictive thoughts on your own — but it’s the only way to stay sober, mentally and emotionally, and to be glad to be sober physically.

Like I said, the closest I’ve come to a “higher power” was that ONE TIME a few months ago when I felt an absence of craving. Remembering that moment takes me back, again and again, to my late teens, a time of immense…flow. Excitement. Anticipation. Creativity. All without booze. It’s possible, it reminds me, that I once felt that way SANS BOOZE, and that I can, therefore, feel that way again.

What made me start drinking? Where was that fork in the road? Was it a gradual process, a response to my social anxiety that turned into a dysfunction? Of course. Did it get out of control even further, years later, when my mind had come to rely on those circuits being turned on so that others would be turned off? Sure. I could go on, but the point is, I don’t think anyone can tell you whether you’re going to be a drunk for the rest of your life. I don’t think anyone can draw a line in the sand — your sand — and do the work for you by substituting a program with an inner healing process. In that regard, AA is as elusive a fix as some of the drugs and booze we were using!

Seven weeks sober and…

1 Aug

1:03 am

…feeling good about it. Content. Solid. And…

SO FUCKING GLAD to not have had the crazyass blackout one of my old drinking buddies had last night! I still have to check in with her to see exactly how she even made it to work today. Though, I’m so over the drama that I’m not sure I can even be bothered to involve myself: I KNOW the details; I lived through it. Finding yourself lost, drunk, confused; on subway platforms, buses, cabs, standing alone in the rain; in the middle of the night, in the early light of dawn — waking up from a blackout with that sinking feeling of Oh, fuck. And that’s all BEFORE the hangover starts and you begin to remember what you actually did. Ugh.

After seven whole weeks, I’m finally feeling like there’s something to this sobriety thing. Like, resisting the cravings and grinning and bearing it is just the beginning. I went to see the new Batman movie tonight and well, I actually felt like it was enough, the movie. Before, during, and after, it was enough. I didn’t need to feel high, or drunk, or anything but sober. I was waiting for it, but the disappointment that always seems to accompany any sort of entertainment without booze — well, it simply didn’t come tonight. Thank God(dess)!

It’s nice to just…enjoy, absorb, FEEL my sober seconds, minutes, hours, days tick by. It’s becoming more the norm, I’m fighting it less. I like waking up knowing I haven’t done something stupid in a blackout, like my friend busting a chair that she found discarded on the sidewalk in a drunken fit/rage. I like hearing the frogs and crickets at night outside, or watching tv, writing, reading a book. I like getting things done, planning my day, looking forward to tomorrow. I like going to sleep because I’m actually starting to feel tired at night. Mostly, I like being in control, claiming my choice and not giving my privacy and self-respect to other people who, if they’re drinking “buddies,” likely don’t deserve it.

And, I like standing firm in my choice, despite the fact that I get the feeling my friend isn’t really all that happy about me going on two months sober. Like, she’s losing and I’m winning. It looks like it’s for real, like it’s finally sticking this time, the no drinking thing. No one’s going to stop me, no one’s going to label me a drunk anymore. I decide who and what I be and do. It’s empowering, is what it is.

(Sure, I’d love a glass of red, but what’s holding me back is my vanity (read: wine gut), my competitive nature, these seven weeks and not wanting to “lose the game” and break my stride, and well, my ego (proving to myself and friends that I can do this)). All good enough reasons, I think, and so far, they seem to be enough. Whatever works, right?)

It’s official: I’m a drunk! ;)

27 Jul

9:12 pm

Dude. I’m taking a break from the opening ceremonies of the Olympics, thinking a few things: one, damn, that Voldemort was huge; two, Kenneth Branagh…again?; and, three, the last opening ceremonies I watched was Beijing 2008 at a bar in [cold east coast city] with an ex-friend, mainly “ex” due to a combination of her ruthlessness when it comes to using people and my drinking problem. Think much?

So, I’ve taken some time off work/”real life” recently (well, for the past 7 months now — doh!) to, I’m realizing, get sober and rediscover myself. Recently I applied to a month-long retreat program at an ashram (think yoga, meditation, and ashram-y things like chanting) on the east coast. I thought I’d be a shoo-in, but I included on my app that I was 6 weeks sober and really wanted to use the program as a step toward healing and, dare I say, inner peace. Well, I finally heard back from them today, and the scoop is that yes, I’d be a great candidate cuz their integral yoga program is all about finding inner peace and the tools to maintain and flourish in that peace in the “outside” world; but no, I can’t come cuz they’re not a “facility” and their policy is at least 6 months sober and/or clean.

Bummer. I guess I had been wondering how I would manage, if my cravings somehow came back and/or if my mood fluctuated and I started to feel trapped, which seems to happen a lot these days.

However, I had a great chat with the “sister” who helps run the place. AND, I thought it very cool that she was 25 years clean, she told me. She offered me her two cents after I told her that my cravings were still quite strong: find a larger purpose outside yourself, in addition to a regular yoga practice; AND, don’t give in/stay sober. It’s a beautiful thing (sobriety), she said, adding that she wouldn’t even think twice about giving in and drinking now. I believed her, for some reason; maybe it was her honesty and earnestness, over the phone, to a stranger.

In any case, it made me think about AA again, and what a 12-step program could offer now that I’m well into resisting the desire to drink. Maybe a sense of community is really, actually, what I need? I never believed that AA could be psychologically beneficial in the long run; to me, it’s just an excuse for lonely people to come together and practice a pretend religion. Or to whine about how hard it was for them to quit spending MONEY THAT THEY ACTUALLY HAVE TO SPEND on BOOZE THAT IS ACTUALLY WIDELY AVAILABLE TO BUY (I’m thinking Haiti here, where there is no money, little booze (and infrastructure to move it around) and therefore, no drinking…unless you do cheap beer, strong rum, or moonshine, which I won’t even get into)! Irritating! Now, well, I guess I can see otherwise. It was just nice to talk to someone who’s been there; I actually thought about believing her when she said, You should resist your cravings because there is a lot of beauty awaiting you.

One more reason to stay sober…for good. Gulp. It’s real. It’s official. I’m a drunk, and now I’m sober. And sticking to it…for the long run. Yikes/Ugh. 😦

Funny, I had a hard time calling myself an alcoholic when she asked me about drinking and my newfound weeks of sobriety. I think I mumbled something about drinking wine a lot, it hurting my professional and personal lives and relationships… BUT, I wasn’t a “raging alcoholic,” you see… I sounded like the drunk-in-denial cliche. Worse, it made me feel confused: am I a drunk, or am I just putting myself through this sobriety nonsense cuz I’m melodramatizing a part of my life so that I feel like I have a goal, or a reason to live, or something higher than myself that happens to be nothing at all, really? Ugh.

Anyway, I SO HEART the Olympics! Such festivities! Such athletes! I wonder how awesome it must be to cover the Games as a sports journalist? Not to mention, how cool would it be to somehow be involved in them?

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…

Island life

21 Jul

5:55 pm

Hmm. For some reason, I feel at a loss for words. That never happens! I guess I’m doing well, going on 40 days sober tomorrow, and there’s nothing really that dramatic to complain or comment about. OR, maybe I’m at the point where I need to start moving onto step 2, since step 1 — quitting drinking — is complete. Step 2, you say? Well, what do I want to do/should do/can do with my time, my creativity, and my partnerships now that I’m free? Man, I want a drink just thinking about it sometimes. 😉

In a word, though, things are good. Shit’s coming together. And not just because I’m not drinking, but maybe in a larger sense, that’s the main reason things are working out “as planned,” whatever that means.

I’ve been here a week and I haven’t drunk. I’ve wanted to, but like I’ve said, the cravings have subsided and well, whatever remaining urges I have I’ve grown used to resisting. I’ve grown accustomed to being sober — going to bed sober and waking up sober. And, I like it. I like getting shit done. This morning, I got up at 8 am — 8 fucking am on a Saturday! — and a friend took me to a yoga class. I think back to my 5years in [cold east coast city] and wonder, the shit I could’ve gotten done, the life I could’ve led on the weekends if I hadn’t gone out, gotten drunky drunk, and then spent a good portion of the weekends remorseful and hungover. But, past is past and I’m really learning that to dwell, more than ever, is to waste.

I’ve been a lot more productive, too. Like, I’ve finally nailed down some writing work and am, dare I say, on my way to making one of my goals/dreams happen: a freelance science writing career that allows me to read and write, creatively, in my free time. I’ve decided that while I have a huge bucket list of shit I’d like to do at the moment, I need to pick one and go. So, I’ve picked the writing, cuz I figure, if I have a few more years to live, let’s say, what is the one thing I would regret not having given my all at, or at least explored satisfactorily, and that’s writing. Journalistic, creative, whatever. I’m still young enough, I guess, to bounce around, so why not simply up and move to a cheaper place and live, explore, learn — and write. I’ve spent a good many years investing way too much energy on WHERE I’m living (and the “kind” of life I’m leading). Now, I just want to focus on my goals, my dreams, WHAT I’m doing instead of where I’m doing them. Y’know?

Which leads me to my point, if I even had one, related to not drinking anymore: drinking enables procrastination of life. It lets you avoid dealing not only with your past and your present feelings, but also your future. You don’t have to plan; you don’t GET to plan. Every day somehow revolves around drinking and then getting sober. Today, my day is revolving around getting up, doing yoga, enjoying the sun, and hopefully, getting some good writing and reading time in. How strange, I know. It’s not that I’ve NEVER been sober or have spent every day shitfaced, but…it’s a new concept. It’s scary, in a way. You have all this time, all this possibility to embrace. What to do first?

The James Dean complex

17 Jul

3:02 pm

(And no, I don’t mean a closet case who died before he had the chance to come out!)

I’m pretty sure all addicts, regardless of substance of choice, have a James Dean complex. I’m going to discuss it, of course, as it pertains to the seemingly socially unacceptable habits of smoking, drinking, and/or doing hard drugs.

It’s not something you haven’t thought of: What happens to your persona when you quit drinking, stop smoking, or flush your hard drugs? You’re no longer “hip.” You’ve lost your “cool.” You can no longer identify with what our society has outwardly shunned but inwardly normalized to be “exciting,” (i.e., daring/rebellious). So, who the hell are you now?

James Dean (or, the characters he played, at least) represented the misunderstood outcast. Smoking was a form of self-expression, a persona. And he was a BADASS mothafucka for it! Every man wanted to be him and every woman wanted to fuck him. Why? Cuz he threw caution to the wind, did what he wanted against everyone’s better judgment. While smoking was made to seem cool and sexy in order to sell the smokes back then, though, public health mandates and general common sense have evolved (along with medical studies). Yet, we still seem to idolize or desire to emulate (or become, in our fantasies) the “sex, drugs, and rock and roll” lifestyle — despite our “evolved” best judgments! We still think, on some level, that overdosing rock stars and hard-boozing journalists are living more exciting lives than us. Addicts are as much addicted to the drug as to the persona. They cultivate their personas and then they become them. In my case and I know others, we become not only identified with our habit but also emotionally attached to it.

I had a friend from grad school who nearly killed himself the year of our studies. He drank so much booze and did so much coke that he ended up triggering a latent autoimmune disease inside his body. The last time I saw him was a few days before graduation; he looked white as chalk and about to fall over. Next thing I know, he’s in the hospital within a few hours of death. He missed graduation and was ordered to strictly avoid booze and drugs for like, the rest of his life if he wanted to keep it.

I went out for “drinks” with him a few days after graduation. It was in a word, weird. I’d only known this guy as a chain-smoking, beer-guzzling, damn-fine journalist. He may even have been Hunter S. Thompson’s actual reincarnate. How would he live and who would he be without his smokes and booze? Would he even be able to be a good journalist? (Turns out, yes, but I’ve lost touch with him to even know if he’s drinking and/or smoking again.) I know he must have struggled with these questions. (A life-threatening disease probably helped him reach some smart conclusions pretty fast, though.)

I’ve always worried about being too shy and socially awkward — AGAIN — once I quit drinking. So far, that hasn’t really been the case. And, I’m drifting steadily away from actually wanting to be *that person,* wine glass dangling precariously from one hand, the other holding me up on the bar while I laugh too loudly at some stupid, unattractive man’s “jokes.” However, while I may no longer define myself by it, I still feel an emotional attachment to the act of drinking wine. I miss it. I miss drinking at night. I miss drinking while watching movies. I miss drinking and having sex. I wonder if the sex is less exciting…and then I feel a sense of being deflated, of having lost something. I equate wine with feeling and being exciting (because I never thought I was?), and so I suppose that is the persona I used drinking to acquire, hold/wear, live out. What if I’m no longer that “badass?” What if I’m no longer fun, sexy, or sexually attractive? What if people were attracted to that kind of crazy, and now that I can’t and won’t go there, they don’t want to come along for ANY ride with me? Drinking is my island; and, you’re telling me I can never escape to that island again?

It’s confusing, and the only advice I can give myself after a few weeks of being sober is, You just have to wait and see. Live out your days, confront life and being and friendships and sex SOBER, and then get back to me and tell me that it’s either better or worse than when you were doing it drunk. With perspective comes better choices; maybe I will decide that yep, all those things ARE actually better while drinking/drunk. Or, maybe I won’t…

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?

What if they can’t forgive and forget?

15 Jul

1:31 am

I’ve been wondering this for a long time, really, but it’s hit home over the past month-plus of my sobriety. What if the people you’ve hurt and/or offended either by the act of your drinking or the result of your drinking CAN’T or WON’T forgive and forget?

My brother is a case of having forgotten (I guess) but not forgiven. And as with some of my friends who have said (or implied) that they’re over what I did while shitfaced, the lack of forgiveness is shown by a passive aggressive refusal to engage; it’s maddening (and saddening). History: I went batshit KUH-RAZY on his girlfriend over New Year’s this year. I mean, I blacked the fuck out and went OFF. Calling her names, yelling at her to get back in the house, saying things like she and my brother don’t belong together, he never does this or that, he’s ruined his life being with her, he doesn’t care about me. I wound down, according to him, several hours later with his help, and at one point collapsed on the floor of their living room and passed out. The next morning was hell on earth, and his girlfriend didn’t even talk to me before I left. (It’s well known in my family, however, that most of what I said about her is true, to be fair. However, no one deserves what I gave her.) Anyway, six months later, and we’re still tiptoeing around each other when we talk, me and my brother, that is. He does have a passive aggressive streak — and is influenced heavily by his domineering girlfriend — so I wouldn’t be surprised if he hasn’t forgiven me. I mentioned I was on my 30th day of sobriety in a recent email, and in his reply, he didn’t comment AT ALL on this. It was a long email, and he made a point of addressing everything in it except that. All I have to say at the moment is that I’m hurt and confused and sort of pissed: after that LONG talk on New Year’s Day (while I was about as hung over as I’ve ever fucking been, EVER) about how I needed to get sober for my health and my family’s sake, he doesn’t so much as bat a digital eye when I tell him I finally have?

I try to put myself in his shoes, though, before allowing myself to start judging what may or may not be an intentional snub on his part. Like, if I was there, being screamed at by my belligerent self, being called all sorts of names by someone who LOOKED PERFECTLY FINE — even though I’m blacked out, I look and act like I’m totally conscious; I’ve done so many things while blacked out that seem the actions of a fully aware, sober person, it’s incredible. If that was ME on the receiving end, I think it’d be REAL hard to find the will to forget, let alone forgive. I was a monster that night, and I know it. I still haven’t forgiven myself, so maybe I should cut my bro some slack.

On that note, I fly to the [beautiful island where I now live] tomorrow for a few weeks, so must get to sleep! My first vacation sober. Wow, it really is like getting a new set of wings — firsts every single day.

(Hmm. Maybe these types of conflicting feelings and interpersonal dilemmas that you face newly sober are, actually, best dealt with in AA? Maybe there is some rhyme and/or reason to the 12-step program? Eh…still not convinced!)

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