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Can we go home again?

4:24 pm

It’s strange to feel emotional, like I do right now. I haven’t really had powerful ups and downs since I quit drinking–over 6 years ago, it was wonderful to realize that it was the wine that was messing with my mood swings, not necessarily an underlying mood disorder (which I probably have, too!). I’ve had even LESS emotions, in general, since going on the pill a few years ago (to “treat” my first bout of perimenopausal symptoms at the ripe old age of 41). I’ve gone off it recently (oh, joy; who told me that you’d lose your hair?), and I can tell when things are just weird, as they are today. Yet…

I’m bothered today, and I feel sad. I was looking at pictures from just a few years ago, and noticed that I look younger then, and happier! Is that because I was, or is the dry desert air messing with me?

We have decided to end our short (10 months) tenure in this city that we both can’t really stand–I have to say, I will never live in a place that is this dry ever again; if going off the pill wasn’t enough to kill my curls, spending 10 months in the desert definitely did in what was left of my hair AND my spirit! Just kidding–sort of! When it comes to this decision, it’s all good, but we don’t know where we’re going to move to yet! While that doesn’t stress me out that much–we have some ideas, and I have a job that I can take with me anywhere–moving back to where we came from, which is one of our ideas, sort of does.

If looking at pictures of my old self sends me into my first crying jag in months, if not years; what will moving back to where it all started do? By “all,” I mean all: a new place, a new me, a new relationship, a new world view. Can I move back and be able to appreciate the past while living in the present, and not be overwhelmed by a nostalgic longing for what was?

In recent pics, I look kind of sad, worn. I have to ask myself, isn’t this a great case for us to go back to where we came from, if all I see now in our pictures is a certain lack of joy? Yes! At the same time, if we do move back, will I be able to stop pining for some nostalgic idea I have of what we were? It’s not that we don’t have what we had then (we do); it’s not that I long to be young again (I don’t consider myself old), or to be in that place, personally (I can’t imagine feeling worse than I did in my early years of sobriety, in a way). It’s this: I want the newness of the joy, the fresh sense of a restart. I mean, of course, I can get that again, but I will always know that in this place lives my past–a past that means a LOT to me, and that evokes a lot of feeling.

I have to remember, though, that I’m different, we’re different, and we’re on much more solid ground than back when we first started living together. And, frankly, I do want to go back–that lifestyle was and is magical. It’s just this pesky fear…of…something that I can’t quite name.

To add to that, I’ve also been wrestling with taking a job that I did 15 years ago–yes, crazy as it sounds, if I go back to this job, I will be doing what I was doing 15 years ago, and for the same boss!? Most of me is an automatic ‘No,’ but the practical side of me says, why would you pass up a job offer like this, especially when you can do it remotely? I have to decide by Tuesday.

Just a few months ago, it seems the entire world was waiting for us, for our adventure to begin. Now? I don’t know if I feel less optimistic or just tired of weighing the pros and cons of big life changes; if it doesn’t work out, nothing’s forever, right?

Still inhaling and exhaling over here; this is a hard time, one of much seeking–maybe even harder than getting sober, since at least then, all I had to do was one thing, not drink! As I always told myself, and like to tell my closest friends: the world rewards those who SEEK. The world rewards those who put in that work, who LOOK for what they might need or want. I am relying on this bit to get me through what appears to be another few months, maybe longer, of being patient with no decisions made, of being open to going with the flow.

Tags: change is hard, choices, decisions, going home again, going with the flow, hard decisions, hard work pays off, moving, patience

Comments 5 Comments
Categories Addiction, Alcoholism, Anxiety, Binge drinking, Change, Choices, Life, Moods, Recovery, Sobriety

Old news

5 Oct

9:42 am

Hi, everyone! It’s been too long. I’m not even sure if my fingers can type, let alone my head compose words. BUT, here I am–in the city, tired, and feeling a bit whirlwinded.

It’s the city where I started this blog, where I got sober, basically.

It’s dark in the apartment that I’m renting for a month, and I’m just not used to it. I’m not used to being so divorced from my natural surroundings. Weirdddd…

So, yeah. Tired. Tired of lugging shit. Tired because I am sleeping on his couch and haven’t yet inflated my air mattresses. Tired because I walked (wandered aimlessly?) around the city all day yesterday, and did no work. And, I wondered, as I wandered: has this been my life to date? I mean, I have done so much aimless wandering around cities. And, while I guess it’s part of growing up and getting tired of that; it still fills me with a little bit of dread, like, maybe this wandering is supposed to have an expiration date for a reason, and that reason would be to put down roots?

I also did it alone yesterday, and while I used to absolutely love being alone–especially when wandering as a tourist–I didn’t like it yesterday. I felt bored, and lonely. I felt less than alive, as in, if I had had someone with me, he or she would have made the day’s observations more real. That sort of startled me, because it goes to show how much I’ve changed.

I have to admit: I drank about 6 ounces (is that “a glass” in the normal world?) of red wine the other night. I think it was last Saturday. It was relatively uneventful, actually. However, I HAD A HANGOVER THE NEXT DAY. AFTER A GLASS. No kidding! And, it sucked, like every single one of my hangovers: it was an entire day of symptoms (albeit milder ones than if I had had a whole bottle or two) that included feeling tired, fuzzy, and extremely neurotic (anxious and weepy and full of negative, circular thoughts).

I guess what prompted me was a variety of the same things that I usually–these days, as a sober person–let pass, and DON’T drink wine to solve anymore: feeling trapped in my emotional world, feeling alone to have to deal with “it,” restlessness/boredom/ennui. I think, for me, it was necessary to try and see that nope, not only does it figuratively not work, it literally DOES NOT WORK.

(Does this make me want to try white wine? Kind of, yes. Or, maybe that red was bad and I had a bad reaction? Hmm… I see where this is going, Wolfie. You stupid dog, you exhaust me.)

I drove around in circles, and ended up having an “emotional hangover” before I even made it to the store. I already felt headache-y and out of breath. I bought it, though–a shitty, $9 bottle of like, Jacob’s Creek or something–and headed home. I drank two sips in the car, and then, poured myself a tiny glass–my boyfriend said it wasn’t even 6 ounces, which is a regular pour at his bar–and drank it about as slowly as I’ve ever drunk anything!

I did NOT want to be hung over, and I was actually just scared of that prospect. I simply cannot deal with one more hangover, period. I don’t know about you, but my hangovers were like being transported to Dante’s Inferno for 12 hours. I think I’ve detailed it already on this blog, somewhere BACK IN TIME.

Yes, I went back in time as I drank that glass. Essentially, it was a flop. I felt woozy. Drowsy. I tried to read, but couldn’t. I already felt down, emotionally, and it just made it worse. There was no buzz. And, I was so freaked out about having a hangover that I thought, I might as well fold my hand while I’m still ahead. I had no desire to drink more. I corked it and sat there, wondering how I got here.

The main thing I kept thinking was, THIS IS NOT HOW I DO ANYMORE. This is not how I solve my problems. It wasn’t so much that I felt disappointed in myself than it was that I was choosing to go back to the old me–and, I was confused as to what old me I was referring to. There is no old me. THIS IS ME, now. How I solve problems is to actually deal with them, confront the emotional pain head on. Work around it. Find a way to deal such that it doesn’t linger. Anyway, it just felt like I was going back in time, and I had no business being there.

It’s a little bit how I feel now, in the city.

I went to my storage unit the day after I flew in (Friday), and surprised myself. I thought it’d be hard to sort through my stuff and say goodbye, but really, I just dove in and ended up throwing out three huge (13-gallon?) garbage bags and four boxes, as well as sorted out the electronic and paper recyclables. It felt great. I was so sure I would keep my clothes and books, at least, but now I’m wondering…why bother? They remind me of the old me anyway! It all reminds me of the past, the old me, and well…while I do want to cherish how I ended up here, I don’t want to dwell in the past anymore. Which, I think, is what the old “pack rat” me is used to doing.

I wonder if this desire to be “free” is simply a symptom of my desire to wander–I have been a wanderer all my life, maybe afraid to put down roots, maybe just a compulsion that’s in my genes–or if it’s the more positive desire to “let go” and “move on?” I have the overwhelming feeling it’s the latter.

See, I’ve been holding onto this storage unit for over four years, with the idea that I’d move back to the city. Yesterday, I remembered just how much time I spent walking around alone here. And, that’s lonely, especially if you’re single (i.e., have no one really to go home to). I’m no longer single so would be moving back as part of a couple–thankfully, I must admit–but it seems that because I’ve so hardcore done this place in ONE WAY, those memories might always be there, influencing the now, the new, the present.

I went into Trader Joe’s Wine Shop last night, and feeling hugely ambivalent, decided to “just see.” Before I knew it, I turned a corner and inhaled a whiff of wine–someone had dropped a bottle and a clerk was mopping it up. THAT, I told myself as I clenched my gut, is how you’re going to feel, taste, see, and hear if you drink tonight. That red wine stench. No, thank you.

And so, I left the store and got on the train and made my way to a local grocery where I bought delicious staples for dinners for the month. Red wine at night in my apartment in the city–it’s not me anymore. It’s not my life. It CAN’T BE.

It’s old news.

And, so, we go forward. Onward. Keep plugging toward our new reality, which is profoundly more fulfilling and profitable than staying stuck in the wine store-drinking-hangover loop. Drunk and aimless no more.

Tags: alcoholic, alcoholism, binge drinking, change, choices, coping mechanism, coping skills, drinking, hangover, hung over, letting go of the past, recovery, revisiting the past, slip, sober, sobriety, the past, wine, women

Comments 7 Comments
Categories Addiction, Alcoholism, Binge drinking, Change, Choices, Coping mechanisms, Moving, Recovery, Slip, Sobriety

Epilogue; prologue–ONE YEAR SOBER!

19 Mar

11:44 am

Some of you were like, Hey, how come you saved the best for last? Well, of course, I wasn’t going to gloss over my ONE YEAR SOBER “BIRTHDAY” today!

First of all, WOWIE, thank you ALL for your awesome, supportive comments. Second, I must clarify: I have two brothers; the one with the girlfriend is NOT the same as the one who is getting married in May. So, I am not the photog at her wedding…

Anyway, the epilogue to yesterday’s “drama in my club” is this:

When midnight came, I admit, I was still exorcising my anger and bitterness by journaling. I did actually get to some good points–great points–about how I feel now and what I get from being sober. I re-read an entry I wrote last year, on this very day, when I was sitting on my couch, passed-out-ish, throwing up onto the towel strategically placed (by my boyfriend) on my chest, before stumbling into bed in a blackout. That day last March, I had nearly six months of continuous sobriety. I have not drunk since then–a full, continuous year. It took me almost two years of trying, but I got here. (Mind you, and this is important, I started trying to control my drinking all the way back in, oh, 2004! I was blacking out then, things got really bad in grad school–I even tried AA in 2006–and I began consciously trying to go for days in a row without drinking starting in 2007–I made it 30 days once, back in the summer of 2008, but more often, I’d only go for 3 to 5 days before going back to my bottle.)

What triggered me?, I wondered, which is why I went back to re-read. Well, it was stuff that would probably not trigger me today, stuff that would not carry as much emotional weight: feeling isolated, feeling attacked for being a “hermit,” which I admit I had become (like, hey, does ANYONE think outside their own asses these days; my landlady literally physically jumped me when I got home that day, scolding me about how I ignore her and I can’t get away this time–needless to say, that woman has CODA issues, and I have rightfully decided to keep my distance), feeling stressed (I was running every day, almost 6 miles one day, 3 miles the next–too much). I had to baby myself then, which makes sense–in early sobriety, everything hurts your raw nerves; nothing makes sense. While my mind is still a buzz of thoughts, back then, everything triggered me to anxious and obsessive thinking.

But, we get through this shit, our minds calm down, and the obsession to drink leaves. Not entirely, but there was this shift that happened for me around 15 or 16 months (I started my journey, a first attempt at getting sober, in June 2012, so this was August of last summer), where I just stopped wanting to drink around every turn. Stopped automatically always assuming/believing that drinking equals relief, escape, fun. Now? Well, that has died down even more, and I see that it’s a real improvement; the thinking goes away. You learn how to live without the reward of alcohol. In short, your mind bounces back. And from what I’m seeing now, your mind not only bounces back, but it keeps going higher and higher!

The epilogue to yesterday’s message from the one brother’s girlfriend is this:

I DID call him, and we DID talk. I was nervous, and upset, but I got through it. And, it left me feeling VERY ambivalent. He basically insinuated I was lying about any message having been sent–she denied it (she probably forgot because she was blacked out when she sent it), and he believed/defended her–which pissed me off to no end. We are NOT that kind of family; there has never been this kind of “he said/she said” drama. That comes from her. Anyway, it bummed me out, and I expressed my frustration, that I cannot do more than I’ve done. And, he continued to keep his list, you know, the one with all the reasons on it to hate me, to hold up his (her?) grudge. And I was like, Dude, I’m not saying you can’t hate me, what I’m saying is, your girlfriend can’t bully me. I get to choose that. Period. (Plus, no one needs a reason to hate someone; hate is irrational, and no matter how many lists you make, hate is a choice, not a must, or a rationalized “to do.”)

On the one hand, he was like, I don’t know why it took you so long to call; on the other, he was like, Well, why do you have to go dredging up the past? I was confused, obviously, mostly at his utter lack of self-observation–you do realize, I wanted to say, that you’re saying two different and opposite things and that both allow you to maintain your grudge, no matter what I say or do, right? He said something about, Well, there’s nothing we can do then. And I was like, YES, brother, there IS something we can do here, and it’s what we do, as humans: we can work together toward forgiving one another, and we can work together toward reconciliation. (I actually said that; I felt proud!)

Honestly, I realize the elephant in the room is his toxic, 15-year-old relationship with cray-cray. And, I see how messed up she is, and how IF he wants to change the situation, he’s going to have to confront her, call her out on her act, and stand up for himself. One, he’s never done that in 15 years; and two, I assume that he knows that IF he does that, he’s going to unleash her beast (she’s threatened to kill herself if he leaves her; which, in my opinion, is part of her act, but which I don’t think my brother is so sure).

GAH. Talk about Relationships 101. And, I realize now that it’s none of my business anymore; I don’t need and never did need to keep this shit live. That’s my problem, wanting and expecting people to align with how I see the world, to forgive and/or like me. Lesson learned: What other people think of me is none of my business; and let it go, let it go, let it go.

However, I was proud of myself! Once I got over my fear and pounding heart, I was pretty good at explaining myself. I know I did wrong, and MY crazy while blacked out can put off anyone for good. But, what more can I do? If they want to continue to buttress their grudge just to hide from reality, well, at least I don’t have to live in that place. I did send him the email she sent, and then we “chatted” about life, and then I hung up. And then, I called my other brother–we’re much closer–and he basically talked me down for the next hour and a half. All in all, it was cathartic, if not healing. I’m still not looking forward to the wedding, but at least now I KNOW I can stand up for myself–I won’t fall down and die.

The prologue is this:

THIS is just the beginning, this sober thing here. I feel like now, (my) sobriety is taking on a shape of its own, starting to live outside myself, direct me when I’m lost, prop me up when I’m weak and scared. I know it’s me, doing this, but it’s somehow more than me. Maybe it’s simply an accumulation of this constancy of self–I can rely on myself. I can rely not only on remaining sober but also on…this Truth inside to guide me, to steer me, to fill me up, to make me righteous when I need to be, to help me–allow me–to make the right choices, and not just the superficial ones that I “should” make.

It’s growing, and building, and I’m becoming more and more sure of myself, of this path as being the right one, of sobriety as being the right choice, and not just the good choice. It’s right because it’s allowed me so much growth this year, emotional and professional. It’s right because it helps me to really see my relationships in action, and to identify problems on my end. It’s right because, I don’t know, I’ve talked about this nebulous idea before, but protecting The Body is so much bigger than just not trashing my own temple. It’s about this connection to heaven, as it were, which is here on Earth–the body, this body that I’m in, this mind and body, is a holy ground. It is where I stand; it is the only place I can be, which means, feel safe, be connected to…the Truth. A calm. Something that says, it will all be OK. There is nothing too big or scary; nothing is big or scary, actually. It’s all good, baby.

Even more, I don’t have to rely on anything outside myself to connect to this truth anymore; it is right here, and it is growing. Sure, I want to drink sometimes, but I know I can do well without. And this truth, it gets bigger now with every day sober. I can’t tell you what a strange thing this is to say, because up until about a few weeks ago, I was still struggling with Not Drinking. Sobriety is about me not drinking, big deal, no one cares, it’s just alcohol anyway. Somehow, that has morphed. Maybe it’s as simple as momentum: my sober car is rolling, still picking up speed, and I’m finally able to look back and see just how far it’s come!

So, one year is a prologue, it seems. The best is yet to come. Sounds SO preachy and AA-y, but…it’s real. I think it helps to confront your shit–I am learning to do that as it happens, and not wait (um, two years). But hey, the things I’ve learned and what’s helped me become more empathetic toward myself and others is this: we all make mistakes in our lives, but we all evolve (if we try). And strangely, as you’re fighting to evolve, sometimes it’s YOU who has to help someone else learn this about themselves. Like, to tell them, You can change, you can evolve, you are bigger than you know.

Another one is, I forgive you. I mean, getting sober has taught me that I must (not should) be prepping to forgive all the time, because I DO want to be that person who is READY to forgive when someone who’s hurt me comes with a sincere apology. Forgiveness is hard, and you really do have to be prepared to offer it to someone; I don’t want to not be able to give that. People deserve it. I deserve it. So, in addition to not being hung over all the time, I’ve been able to learn the value of cultivating forgiveness in myself–for others’ health, for my own. DEEP THOUGHTS, people. 😉

Tonight is the wine bar event–well, we’re gathering at a wine bar/resto. On the one hand, it’s just another day sober. On the other, I feel better and more hopeful and less burdened than I have ever felt. And, I feel like I am more confident and settled–this isn’t going to go away with a mood swing because this is real, I made this. I built this. And, I think the struggle is what makes it worthwhile, because without that constant fighting against the wolfie in your head, there would be no…reference point. The whole process of building your new statue–becoming sober–is what helps it stick.

Thank you, friends. I would NEVER have gotten this far without your support here. Thank you from the bottom of my heart–your comments were touching and some brought tears to my eyes.

Now, another 90 days? Another 100-day challenge? Onward for this “user bitch cunt!” (I hate to tell her, but it’s no secret I can be a cunt; and, I still love me. So, GOTCHA, bitch! Of course, I’m not above resentment yet, my friends. LOL)

(Btw, I think my present to myself for a year sober might be a trip back to Mexico–I loved Mexico City when I went a few years ago, so…I don’t know why, but it sounds like a good idea!)

Tags: AA, alcoholic, Alcoholics Anonymous, alcoholism, amends, binge drinking, change, choices, drama, drinking, empathy, family, forgiveness, gratitude, higher power, let it go, life is easier sober, life is simpler sober, milestone, move on, on becoming sober, one year sober, one year soberversary, personal growth, psychology, reasons to be sober, recovery, sober, sobriety, toxic relationships, truth, wine, women

Comments 18 Comments
Categories 100 Day Challenge, AA, Addiction, Alcoholism, Amends, Binge drinking, Change, Choices, Drama, Family, Gratitude, Higher Power, Milestones, Psychology, Recovery, Self-empowerment, Sobriety

300 days, and it’s getting better

13 Jan

12:42 pm

Well, here we are! Well, were, since 300 days came and went. And, to be honest, it was a day like every other: some ups, some downs, but mainly just stressed about finding money! I don’t know…it was just there.

When I think about how I spent my day, I really have to take a step back and say, Wow, that’s remarkably better than how you were spending your Sunday’s just a few years ago. Yesterday, I got up at the usual time, 10, which was fine. Early enough to have some morning left. I did some chores, took the dogs for a long walk, spent about 45 minutes chatting with my landlord/neighbor/friend, catching up on her holidays and future plans–a really good way to make myself feel more of a part of “things.” I came home, made some lunch (a spinach salad with some basalmic-oil dressing and some pasta), and then, followed up on yesterday morning’s yoga class by trying to replicate it on my own mat. Afterward, I meditated/dozed off on the mat, until about 2. I spent the afternoon trying to boost my mood to get myself to “do shit,” but I just couldn’t find the energy. My boyfriend came home from work, and we/I spent the evening walking the dogs along the back hills, grocery shopping, making dinner, talking to my mother for about an hour (I really need to call her more so that our conversations can be shorter!), and then, “binging” on our Netflix show du jour (Dexter).

I also made sure my dog got her meds in the morning and evening–she’s on doxycycline for tick fever, and she was prescribed a shit-ton of pills (a whole month’s worth, so four a day!).

Why so much detail? Well, if I was drunk/hung over, my day would NOT have included anything related to self-care or care of others/animals. It would have resembled what is unfortunately familiar to all of you: in bed until 3 pm, feeling sick, confused, and panicky, looking through my texts and email to figure out what I might have done or said last night; finally heaving myself out of bed long enough to make ramen and tea, eat that, and then pathetically slump back into my bed, feeling still drunk. I might have gotten up by 5 or 6 pm, as the light was leaving the sky, to get some air, walking a short few blocks up and down the city streets, alone. I probably would have called my mother, and then it’d be about 8 pm. Since I have no dogs to take care of in this scenario (no plants either), no boyfriend to share anything with, and no story pitching to worry about–because I have no freelance business–I’d probably go out to the corner store, buy a bottle of red, and drink that down while binging on a random assortment of Netflix shows (Intervention, Breaking Bad, or Lost were some of my favorites when I was hung over–sad, in a way, except for Lost, which I never quite remembered because I was drunk). Of course, the red would be making me feel at ease, and mainly, helping me to forget my hangover, another wasted day, and the dreadful feeling that I am missing out on SO much.

It’s the little things…but I can’t tell you how they really do add up to one HUGE thing. Like, the fact that it’s just normal now for me, expected that I wake up before 10, to take care of my dogs, to give my girl her meds on time, every day. The fact that it’s a given that I’ll have the desire to prioritize yoga, meditation, and a spinach salad on my day off–and not wine wine wine wine wine. The fact that I have someone to share my day with–that I’m not afraid of intimacy anymore (I was terrified of it, and everything that came with it, when I was drinking–it’s one reason I drank, to both avoid it and hide from my fear of it). The fact that I’m able to talk to my neighbors, that I have an outlet for feeling alone–that I see that others need me as much as I need them, that this is how it works, building community from the inside out. I don’t have to walk around alone in a cold city; I get to do it with someone else, among trees and sun.

I get to choose all this, and I get to choose to approach it with a positive outlook (that often means just ignoring the negative thoughts, the stress, the anticipation of the worst). And, I am aware of all of this, and of how good all of it is, and of how much better it is with this choice. It doesn’t always feel good–I have doubts and anxiety all the time–but it is better, that’s the truth. I look back and think, I may not have known I was dependent on wine, but I knew (believed) that I didn’t have a choice–especially when it came to the negative self-talk about how much my life sucked/how much more I wanted out of life that I didn’t have, which inevitably led to me drinking my nights away, one by one. And then, entire weekends. And sometimes, entire weeks (toward the end, I spent a few ENTIRE WEEKS drunk around the clock=yikes).

So, yeah. I don’t want to overemphasize the negative, but this post is just to say, it creeps up on you, the GOOD, and the BETTER that everyone (at meetings) bangs on about when it comes to getting sober. Sure, you sober up–there are a lot of realities I am facing now, and most of the time, reality comes with fear (whether that reality is actually anxiety-producing outside of my overreacting mind, I am not sure). But, you also GET. You get a lot. And most of it is in small changes, incremental ones that build upon one another until one day you wake up and you’re like, OK, wow, so I might want that glass of red, but honestly, I really can’t see going back to giving up all this–I can see it now, I have it now–in exchange for the “buzz” of alcohol.

As Dan Savage says, it gets better. Sometimes, getting better doesn’t mean what we want/think it should mean, though. Getting better is more complex than just feeling better–isn’t that what we tried to do when we were drinking, feel better? We never GOT better, though.

And, I guess I’ll fix my counter to 365 days on March…18th?

Tags: 300 days sober, alcoholic, alcoholism, anxiety, binge drinking, change, choices, drinking, freelance, goals, habit to not drink, habits, hangover, hung over, it gets better, milestone, recovery, remembering last hangover, self-employment, sober, sobriety, stress, wine, women, work

Comments 26 Comments
Categories Addiction, Alcoholism, Anxiety, Binge drinking, Change, Choices, Goals, Habits, Hangover, Recovery, Self-employment, Sobriety, Stress, Work, Writing

Own your holiday

28 Nov

1:48 pm

Happy Thanksgiving, friends.

Needless to say–but I’ll say it anyway–I’m so very grateful to have found this community, and to be a part of it. Just last night, I was feeling low, wondering things like, What’s the point of being festive without wine? Silly, and almost ridiculous after nearly 18 months of getting sober (and on Day 255 today of continuous sobriety), isn’t it? Maybe not.

I got some great insight from so many of your blogs, but the main thing I took away was to simply own my holiday. So what, I didn’t feel like going out last night to the first party of the season? I accepted it (after feeling bad about not wanting to go), didn’t overly dwell on how it related or not to my being sober, and prepared for today: friends in town, a new dress, a green bean salad, and homemade sorrel tea (my beverage contribution to the dinner we’re going to). I mean, I have SO many things that I didn’t have, let’s say, two years ago, it’s almost funny. Come on, at least I HAVE a dinner to go to, a dress to wear, and a body to put it on that isn’t being dragged around by my big, hung over head full of self-hatred. Yeah, there’s that.

I don’t know, I guess just owning my holiday is how I’m going to approach this season. I own my fun, my desire to socialize or not, my choice as to how I perceive all the “should’s” that go along with the holidays. I GET to own it, is the thing; now that I’m sober, I have a choice in everything. I don’t have to do what I don’t want, or what seems fishy or makes me feel weird. When I was drinking, nothing ever really felt right–especially my choices. Now, it feels like getting to choose what really makes me feel OK is what I can’t wait for, not the wine that made this all impossible to see clearly.

I can’t wait to see my old friends at the airport today–for many, many years, it was me going to them, and I’m glad that someone is actually coming to me this year.

I can’t wait to eat a HUGE fucking feast, and not feel too full because of all the wine I drank.

I can’t wait to watch others–yeah, I’m still in that place, but hey, it helps–get drunk and be out of control, compelled to drink more; and have it NOT BE ME. I am in control of my choice, and I choose freedom. At least for tonight, and the rest of the weekend. Whew, isn’t that a relief, too, to already have made the decision to remain sober? Now, I have the luxury of worrying about other stuff, like *everything worth worrying about.*

I can’t wait to put on my new red dress, and I don’t know, appreciate the color, the feel, and the fact that it’ll look almost as pristine after going out as before. I can’t wait to be that girl in the red dress who doesn’t “over-share,” or get sloppy, or get sweaty-headed (you know, that red, sweaty look you get when you’re drinking?). For so many years, I worried about people judging me for being too uptight (I was, I am, I own this now; I am guarded, and shy-ish), and so I drank and the pendulum swung HUGELY back in the opposite direction. I can’t wait to be controlled, to be direct, to stare at someone who is drinking and not flinch, apologetically look away, or make excuses for not imbibing. You can be you, but I’m gonna be me, mmkay? Here. Solid. Steadfast. Sober. And, fucking FUN to talk to for once–because I can carry on a coherent conversation. Shit, I can’t wait to be the “mom” to your 13-year-old tween. HA!

I can’t wait to wake up tomorrow and not have taken the security elevator in a blackout, not to have vomited on the “vomit shirt” that I won, not to have said or done something horrible to a stranger, not to have a blurred recollection of the yummy food I just devoured, literally mindlessly.

I could go on, but you get the picture.

Own it, people.

Tags: alcoholic, alcoholism, binge drinking, choices, drinking, gratitude, holidays, holidays sober, own your sobriety, recovery, sober, sobriety, social anxiety, socializing sober, Thanksgiving, Thanksgiving sober, wine, women

Comments 15 Comments
Categories Addiction, Alcoholism, Binge drinking, Choices, Holidays, Recovery, Sobriety, Socializing

Without this, I wouldn’t have that

29 Oct

10:30 am

Without this:

I wouldn’t have that:

Or that:

Tags: alcoholic, alcoholism, binge drinking, choices, drinking, gratitude, images, pictures, recovery, reward for being sober, rewards, sober, sobriety, wine, women

Comments 2 Comments
Categories Addiction, Alcoholism, Binge drinking, Choices, Gratitude, Recovery, Rewards, Sobriety

Tonight I won’t drink because…

28 Oct

8:49 pm

I don’t want to feel drunk, or sick to my stomach. Or dizzy. I don’t want to feel dizzy, like my head is coming unglued, my brain unzipped, my thoughts not forming or falling apart as they form.

I don’t want to feel hung over tomorrow and ruin the day. Or the next two days. Or the rest of the week. I could really do without feeling like death, having a panic attack, and being barely able to function mentally and emotionally for the next several days, yes. I don’t want to be hung over, ever, EVER again.

I don’t have the money, if I’m honest, to waste on wine.

I will piss out the wine almost as fast as I drink it, along with all my nutrients (because I am, actually, eating now). But not before the wine soaks every organ in my body, metabolizes into a carcinogenic chemical, and turns my urinary tract into an acidic hell. No, no. I don’t have much say over the miracle of my physiology, but at least I can put gas in gas, and oil in oil, and make sure to not mix the two. Yes, I get the magnitude of this simple choice now, this choice of GOOD fuel over, well, dirty oil.

I don’t want to cry, or weep. About old things. Sad things. Things I’ve done. Things that are not what I’ve got going on now, what I’m doing now, who I am now, what I’m working toward now.

I have work to do. And I will have work to do tomorrow. And, I actually want to work instead of avoiding it by drinking and making it impossible to even try.

I don’t want to call people, like an ex, or my brother who hasn’t forgiven me for freaking out on him two years ago, and say things that they don’t deserve to hear.

I don’t want to be emotional. I want to be cold, precise, and sharp. Empty, even.

I don’t want to yell at people, for no reason, or every reason. I don’t have the energy to waste, and even if I did, I wouldn’t want to spend it on this.

I want what I have now, which is a certain calm, a deep well that doesn’t move at night, that keeps me in its grasp–finally.

I want to be responsible, boring even. I don’t need the drama, the attention, the diversion; I have a goal, a purpose, which is, well, being sober and then, working on allowing everything else to happen.

I like wearing my “mom” jeans, OK?

Tags: alcoholic, alcoholism, binge drinking, choices, drinking, health, healthy choices, reasons not to drink, recovery, sober, sobriety, why stay sober, wine, women

Comments 14 Comments
Categories Addiction, Alcoholism, Binge drinking, Choices, Health, Random, Recovery, Sobriety

Happiness is a choice

24 Sep

10:47 am

Good morning. Or, is it?

I woke up to some fierce lower back pain and immediately took 4 Advil. It’s a bummer, knowing that at 39, all I can do is work with the pain and not–maybe never–remove it. It’s weird; I feel handicapped. It makes me sad, angry, and worn out. It is constant, and I feel like I’ve tried everything to fix it. I have, for the most part, given up.

And, this is all before I commence to sit right back down on my ass, spine crunching nerves, and get to work. THIS is what I do; I can’t seem to figure out another way.

Yet, the day is bright, and I have my plans, and I’m not thinking of drinking, and, well: happiness is a choice. I’m not sure why it’s a hard one to make sometimes, and why is should take effort (as in, maybe I’m doing it wrong), but, happiness is a constantly-being-made choice, isn’t it? Happiness is a choice. And, I can do this. If there is one thing I can do now, it’s this. I can usher the bad thoughts out, or sequester them, or filter them out gradually through some deep breaths. I’m still left with the pain, yes, but I can see my choice, facing me, and it is simple: happy or not?

I choose happy. But, mostly, I know now that I GET to choose. How black is that? (SNL reference!)

Tags: alcoholic, alcoholism, back pain, binge drinking, choices, choosing to be happy, chronic pain, chronic pain sucks, drinking, gratitude, happiness, happiness is a choice, lower back pain, mindfulness, recovery, sober, sobriety, wine, women

Comments 6 Comments
Categories Addiction, Alcoholism, Binge drinking, Choices, Gratitude, Mindfulness, Recovery, Sobriety

Slogans and quick fixes, sobriety is not

19 Aug

12:09 pm

No Motivation, The Right to Refuse to Say I’m Sorry, Turning It Off–these are titles of posts I never sent (posted) this weekend. GAH. Obvs, I haven’t been feeling that well.

But you know what? I don’t have to feel great, or feel “more like myself,” (because I feel less like myself than ever before), or be bouncing off the walls. All I have to be is sober! I can spend entire days drinking Coke Zero and weeping and holding on to my sobriety with a death grip–it all means something, and it’s all teaching me something about myself. Which is, drinking most likely simply exacerbated existing mental and emotional (are they different?) problems, not caused them. I hold a lot of rigid ideas about what I “should” and “shouldn’t” be doing, which exacerbates my stuck-ness. The best I’ve ever felt is when I said, Fuck it, and went and volunteered for a few months doing manual labor in a foreign country. All these things relate to work, which for me, relates strongly to both self-validation and creativity, which ultimately relates to mortality. Maybe I think too much and do too little?

On Saturday night, I felt the same way–out of control and volatile, emotionally–sober as I have often felt drunk. The EXACT SAME WAY. And, it scared me. It was eye-opening, too, in that, like I said, I thought that booze caused this in me; I never could have imagined let alone believed that it already existed, in a certain form. Obviously, it wasn’t as severe, but the feelings, the go-to reactions were of someone deeply not at peace. Thankfully, it’s over, and I feel better today. (I even had to “save to draft” a few emails and such because they were SO out-of-control angry.)

I tried to write (fail), I tried to read (fail), I watched “Sex and the City” the movie and “Devil Wears Prada.” I tried to go running and realized that due to PMS, my sciatica flaring was making that impossible. I cried over the fact that I am no longer…of the era, as it were; that I may have expired. My time in cold East Coast city–my ERA there–is over. “Kids” in their late 20s and early 30s now rule the roost. This is a hard fact (misinformed opinion?) to acknowledge. I downloaded some sample books to my Kindle, which made me feel a bit better, put the Coke Zero away, and somewhat successfully pressed some of those written words through the meat processor that was my brain. And then, the curtain came down, and I simply quit and went to bed.

“Quitting and going to bed” is not my style, but maybe, just maybe, it HAS to be from now on. Just like opening myself up to new career paths. A few years ago, the counselor I was seeing told me that I didn’t have to continue the pattern of workaholism in my family, which my dad, grandfather, and great-grandfather passed down to me and my brothers (I see it in all three of us now). That I could change the course of my “destiny.” She saw the pattern, of my drinking being one tool I use to protect myself from the fact that I was simply repeating what my dad had done his whole life: working himself to the bone as a way to scratch an itch, sure, but also and mostly, as a way to please and/or impress his father, and grandfather. Now, I have a choice whether to live out that same sort of life/lifestyle. I have a choice, which I can make. Do I feel ambivalent, and guilty, and afraid? Sure as fuck I do! Can I also choose to feel all these things, not drink, not work (sometimes), and go to bed anyway? Sure as fuck I can!

On that note, I am going to sign off. I’ll get to all those posts soon, although sometimes in this forum I start to feel like the wet blanket. Sobriety isn’t easy, though, and I’m not going to sugarcoat it. I hope everyone is having a great day and believe me, if you want to drink, like really really really want to? Don’t. Don’t give in! You can do this, just like little old hurting me. (If *I* can do this, anyone can!)

Tags: alcoholic, alcoholism, binge drinking, boredom, change, choices, coping mechanism, coping skills, cravings, depression, drinking, psychology, recovery, sober, sobriety, wine, women

Comments 6 Comments
Categories Addiction, Alcoholism, Binge drinking, Boredom, Change, Choices, Coping mechanisms, Cravings, Depression, Moods, Psychology, Recovery, Sobriety

Life is too sweet to be bitter

25 Jul

4:52 pm

I came across a story today that about Kris Carr, and it totally inspired me. Here’s her final quote of the piece:

I think that life is just too sweet to be bitter. Once I was able to change my focus, desperation led to inspiration. I made so many changes, and I thought: This is an awesome life. I mean, honestly, I don’t think anyone has a better life than me. How can you live with the knowledge of cancer? I might not ever be able to get rid of it, but I can’t let that ruin my life. . . . I think: Just go for it. Life is a terminal condition. We’re all going to die. Cancer patients just have more information, but we all, in some ways, wait for permission to live.

For many reasons, this struck me as relevant to sobriety. It strikes at the core of what we avoid as drinkers: we wait for permission to live, we live in fear, we don’t just Go For It. Once we change our focus, we can go from desperate to not drink to inspired to live life.

Today, I’m reconfirming my commitment to running more, embracing the challenge of developing balance in my life, and giving up (trying to) the Diet Coke. If there are small things I can do (juicing might come soon, why not?), then let’s DO THIS.

Tags: alcoholic, alcoholism, anger, balance, binge drinking, change, choices, death, Diet Coke, don't be bitter, drinking, fun, go for it, goals, health, health food, healthy diet, healthy living, juicing, just do it, Kris Carr, leafy greens, life is good, life isn't fair, living in fear, mortality, recovery, resentment, sober, sobriety, soda, vegan, vegetarian, wine, women

Comments 6 Comments
Categories Addiction, Alcoholism, Binge drinking, Change, Choices, Death, Fun, Goals, Health, Life, Mortality, Recovery, Sobriety, Soda

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Drunky Drunk Girl

Can we go home again?

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Epilogue; prologue–ONE YEAR SOBER!

300 days, and it’s getting better

Without this, I wouldn’t have that

Tonight I won’t drink because…

Happiness is a choice

Slogans and quick fixes, sobriety is not

Life is too sweet to be bitter

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