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Here’s to the 12-to-20-weeks window closing!

1:09 am

Almost, that is. I’m at 19 weeks today, and it keeps hitting me how FAST weeks go. Even though I’m still counting days, weeks are flying by! UGH! I have so much to do, but as I’ve moaned before, I just can’t seem to do things with as much speed, efficiency, and/or oomph as I used to. I still do as much as I can, but…it takes longer. I feel like my brain AND body are going in slow motion. S…L…O…W. M…O…T…I…O…N.

Weeks are going faster than ever before, yet… I still have cravings. I’d say they’re there, all day, every day. I’m still wondering, OK, so when can I drink again? Not loud, barely a whisper, but there. All the time.

Today, though, I felt a shift. Very slight, but I felt it. Like, a breath released. A giving in. Or maybe, a newfound perseverance to keep going. I mean, I’ve had major pangs since I hit 90 days. Yet, I know I HAVE to stay sober through the weekend, which puts me at likely standing my ground through the end of the month. Which will put me at 20 weeks… And, I see that 20 weeks is 140 days, which is ONLY about a month from the next big goal, 6 months. And really, I quit drinkin’ on June 13th last year (with, of course, a few times falling off the water wagon, but if I count them, less than 10-15 days of actual drinking during those weeks), so…only 2 more months after that until my “year” anniversary.

I can do this, sure. I know I can. But today, I kind of felt a shift, a giving in–like, resting my head on the shoulder instead of pushing it away, craning my neck in fear that I might get cooties or worse, like it.

I WANT to do this. Say what?

What I know now is that I want to not have hangovers more than I want to drink. Period. Hangovers, for me at 38, equal a bad, bad time. BAAAAD. They are unbearable, mentally and physically. AND, most importantly to my point here, I get fuck all done on those days. Right now, and since last summer, I haven’t had time to be hung over. Literally. I haven’t had the time as I can’t afford to jeopardize my goals. Like, I can’t afford to not get my shit done. So, the choice isn’t actually there anymore for me. Or, rather, it is: drink and jeopardize everything you have going for you now, and everything you want to have going for you; or, don’t. The difference now is, it’s MUCH easier to resist the “wolf voice” with rational thought than it was even last week, let alone months ago. Thank God(dess).

Tags: alcoholic, alcoholism, binge drinking, cravings, drinking, goals, hangover, hung over, milestone, recovery, sober, sobriety, wine, women

Comments 5 Comments
Categories Addiction, Alcoholism, Binge drinking, Change, Choices, Cravings, Goals, Hangover, Milestones, Recovery, Sobriety

I win, YOU LOSE, said the self-righteous “dry drunk”

16 Feb

2:03 pm

I feel like I’m always bitching on my blog, but dudes, that’s what this is for, right? If you don’t want to read, you would’ve unsubscribed by now, I’m guessing.

Lately, I’ve been feeling angry. Self-righteous, I guess might be the right word. I can say with absolute certainty that a significant part of my NOT succumbing to my cravings is the fact that by not drinking, I win. I WIN! And, more than that, they lose. THEY LOSE. In this mindset, it becomes a zero sum game; and, admittedly, it does help me say to myself, No, Drunky Drunk Girl, you’re SO not drinking over them. You’re SO not letting them win.

Who is this “them?” Well, it’s all the folks who thought I couldn’t do it, who hated (and continue to hate and semi-hate) on me for actually doing it (it’s the whole “If I have zero, at least it’s more than you have if you’re drinking away what you don’t have; so keep drinking and make me feel better about having nothing”); friends, family, employers (former). It’s everyone who’s made me feel like I was a shitfuck, someone not worth helping or saving, someone who even though she did most everything right, somehow doesn’t deserve ANY of her success for doing this one fucking thing wrong.

Making amends? Shit. There are people whom I don’t think I can forgive–let back in, I should say–for not having forgiven me! Shut me out? Well, when you open that door, don’t expect me to be there. That’s family stuff, but it boils down to the same for everyone: I win when I don’t drink, and you lose. You lose your bets against me. You lose your justification for holding a grudge. You lose your smug smirk and false sense of pride–the only things protecting you from your truth(s) are your pride and my drinking, because both allow you to continue lying to yourself.

Yeah, it’s twisted. But, it’s really, really hard for me to NOT feel this way. And, when I stop the OBVIOUSLY negative self-righteous rising, when I stop indulging that bitter and angry side, I can see that good things have come my way. I have my sobriety. I have my life. I have my work. I am getting paid to do what I’m (relatively) good at. I have great friends who love me. I have a LOT. I must have done something right, right?

All I can say is, at 4.5 months, I feel this way every time I seriously think about throwing in the towel. And, it’s a factor in resisting the urge…along with a bunch of other “better” reasons, of course. The anger passes, and I move on to feeling and being grateful–glowing with contentment, happy with myself for my steadfastness (for once) re: not drinking, and at peace with how things are between me and “them”–time heals all wounds, right? What I usually do is go for a long walk with the dogs, or a run. Both those things dissipate the anger…until it boils up again the next time I start to head into one of my “thought ditches.”

I hope I’m not the “dry drunk” that AAers are talking about. It takes what it takes, I guess.

Tags: alcoholic, alcoholism, anger, binge drinking, cravings, drinking, dry drunk, psychology, recovery, self-righteous, sober, sobriety, wine, women

Comments 11 Comments
Categories Addiction, Alcoholism, Binge drinking, Cravings, Psychology, Recovery, Sobriety

18 weeks and 4 months should NOT be equal, right?

15 Feb

3:37 pm

It’s been a while since I’ve posted, but with draft posts titled “Feeling like crap,” “Pangs heard around the world,” and “Where am I?,” I figured I would let whatever this is pass, continue to solider on, and spare you my annoying diatribe(s).

I’m still sober, going on a day after 18 weeks today. But, the other day when I looked at the calendar and it read February 12th, I thought, Wait, I’m ONLY at 4 months? So, how can I also be at 18 weeks, which would be 4 months…PLUS 2 weeks. Um, hello? That PLUS 2 weeks is kind of huge. Le sigh.

I’ve really wanted to drink the past several weeks, but I haven’t. I feel quite practiced at saying no through most of my pangs, cravings, and “thought ditches”…until PMS rears its ugly head. The past week has been bad–sometimes I wonder if it isn’t something in my new environment that is messing up my hormones. I literally felt hung over the other morning, as if I was coming down WAY TOO FAST off a “good” drug–crashing. However, it wasn’t a drug, it was my own internal chemical fluctuations which were off schedule and which, instead of letting me down easy, came to a screeching halt a week early. Hmm. I know it sounds a bit melodramatic, but when I was drinking, I really hit the wine hard when I was PMSing; and, I know it’s difficult to believe, more often than not I never connected the two until after the fact. Duh. Every month it became, Oh, shit, no WONDER I felt so horrible, drank so much, and could SO not even deal with the booze (I always blacked out hard when I was PMSing). Now, I’m hyper-aware of the fluctuations because I can feel every single one of them.

It’s not that life has been bad, at all; I’m grateful that work and dinners and walks, days and nights and everything, well, has been passing smoothly. Sure, there are moments (nightly, lately) when I find myself saying to myself, Do I really need to stay sober, like Sober Sober, anymore? Aren’t I healed? Hasn’t this 24-7 sobriety shit gone on long enough?! I need a BREAK! Just one glass…

I had major pangs last night, which sort of took me off guard. I felt a little bit like crying inside when I looked at the menu and realized that once again–even at a nice restaurant on a nice Valentine’s Day date with my nice manz–I can’t have wine. Not even one glass. And to make it worse? I end up ordering yet another Diet Coke, which I have to say, did not go so well with the pasta. The good news is that I did muster the sense to realize that I wouldn’t really enjoy the wine because I’d be thinking of the next glass, and the next, and the next. It’d be more of an annoyance than…whatever I’m imagining it’s going to be.

What’s the point? The point is, I’ve learned that even IF I want to drink, NO GOOD CAN COME if I do it when I really want to. Because, when I really want to is always when I’m feeling really bad. My strategy is to wait: until tomorrow, until the next project, until the race, until this or that or the other. And, if I wait–even a night–most likely I’m going to feel both happier and less desperate the next day, at which point, even if I drank it’d much likely be a better outcome than if I drank when I was in that desperate state of mind.

Anyway, it’s Friday! And I haven’t even started my work. Wah wah. Catch y’all later!

Tags: alcoholic, alcoholism, binge drinking, cravings, drinking, gratitude, holidays, hormonal fluctuations, pangs, PMS, recovery, sober, sobriety, Valentine's Day, wine, women

Comments 6 Comments
Categories Addiction, Alcoholism, Binge drinking, Cravings, Gratitude, Health, Holidays, Life, Recovery, Sobriety

Top 10 reasons not to drink, or how I stopped worrying and learned to love Weird and Awkward

1 Feb

5:40 pm

I went out last night. Since getting sober, I haven’t actually been “out out,” as in, out to a bar where other people were drinking and I had to fend for my poor, little, 38-year-old self. I mean, I’ve been to dinner parties, brunches, beach outings, and even bars, but it wasn’t to “go out” (we went to see a band last night).

And, well… I felt so insecure! So uncomfortable! So awkward! Dare I say, Weird and Awkward! And, without booze to hold onto, I felt vulnerable. I felt like I was in college again. GAH. NO!?!? And, I was so far up in my own head that at times, it was really hard to fake that I was having fun.

BUT, I learned something about myself. I’ve known it for a long time–my whole life. Sometimes–like when I was learning calculus–you just need to see it from a different angle to actually GET IT. I got it last night: I create entire realities in my head when it comes to what others are thinking of and about me, and one, probably none of it is true, and two, who gives a shit if it is?

I have to imagine that we all feel insecure sometimes, introverts moreso than extroverts. A mere sampling of my thought “process” during these times:

I wonder if they think I’m boring/I bet they do, I bet they think I’m boring/OH, GOD, why am I being so awkward, what with all these pauses and looking away/I have to look away, but now, oh, fuck, now I bet they think I’m being rude or disinterested when really/you’re standing too close to me and I really don’t know what to say and for some reason, I feel like I’m 18 again and not 38/it hurts I want out it hurts I want out/I want to curl up in a ball and roll on OUT OF HERE

Yup. That’s me. ME. That’s what’s going on inside MY HEAD. However, being sober and having to simply deal with it, I had the opportunity last night to observe these thoughts–not only look at these thoughts, but look at them from a different perspective, namely, not my own.

I glanced at the person I was talking to and told myself, Y’know, he’s probably faking it, too, has no idea what to say, might even be feeling more awkward and shy than I am! I had a quick conversation with a former, let’s just say, drinking buddy in front of the restroom; he got sober last year and we chatted very briefly about how he’s drinking again (and having no luck moderating) and how I’m not. “I feel really good where I’m at right now,” I said, breezily (it’s not like I’m falling apart on the outside, just in one corner of my brain). He was noticeably impressed, and congratulated me. Someone else did, too, when I told him that I had 16 weeks. What I’m saying is, other people are not just NOT thinking I’m weird and awkward in my sobriety, but they’re happy for me, even maybe envious! People are rooting for me. And what am I doing? Creating an entire universe in my head that does not exist, based upon my own self-conscious insecurities.

Almost more importantly, I realized that 85 percent of the peeps in the room were in their own, drunken worlds. Who’s going to even remember me, let alone remember that I was sober?

Hence, my sparkling (the glitter rained down, too, I swear) revelation: I don’t need to drink. In fact, I prefer to be sober. IN SPITE OF HOW AWKWARD I felt, and even in spite of the pangs. The pangs were just my body saying, I want to get the fuck out of here because *I feel uncomfortable.* Somehow, my higher brain pulled through and was like, You need to do this to learn/grow, and honey, you know you really don’t want to drink, right? I wanted to use wine to momentarily allow me to feel protected from my raging thoughts. How sadly ironic, seeing how the point of going out and socializing is to be with others, right?

YET, I didn’t drink. Why?

1. I would be sick the next day. (Do I even have to go into 2-10? Who wants to feel sick the next day?)
2. I would get fuck all done the next day, and then I would hate on myself.
3. I would have a horrible hangover, complete with anxiety/panic, depression/suicidal ideation, and general existential angst. (Shit’s not 19 anymore, peeps! It happens.)
4. I would have stupid conversations that I don’t remember, instead of attempts–give yourself a high five for trying–at meaningful ones that I do!
5. I would act like a fucking idiot, dancing and singing and swaying and in general, being WAY too out there. I’ve been out there; I want to coil myself back in. I’m MINE, not yours.
6. I would say shit I don’t mean, or might regret.
7. I would spend too much money.
8. I would consume too many calories. (Hey, y’all, that belly weight is tough to shed; I’m tired of one step forward, two steps back!)
9. I would fuck up my training body and schedule. (I’m finally getting my running legs (and core strength) back, and I’m on a workout schedule now.)
10. I won’t find out what happens AFTER 16 weeks.

I’d say that number 10 is playing a huge role in keeping me from giving in to my pangs. My “fuck it” moments seem to last not moments, but days–I have time to ruminate over the consequences, and they ultimately end up pointing my face toward the door that says, “Don’t Even THINK About Knocking.” More and more, I see how far I’ve come and I think, Well, if you stop now, you’ll probably NEVER get to 17 weeks, or 6 months, or a year. Could things be monumentally different than they were at day 1, than they are now? Maybe… I’ll just have to keep going to find out.

Tags: alcoholic, alcoholism, binge drinking, cravings, drinking, psychology, recovery, sober, sobriety, social anxiety, wine, women

Comments 11 Comments
Categories Addiction, Alcoholism, Bars, Binge drinking, Cravings, Psychology, Recovery, Sobriety, Social Anxiety

16 weeks and…I have the choice to drink

30 Jan

9:23 pm

I do. I have the choice.

I would say this: AA wants you to believe that you don’t have a choice; I contend that you do. It’s just HARDER to not drink/be sober if you allow yourself that choice, daily. It forces you to confront your reasons (well, rationale) for thinking about drinking; why you “want” to drink; and then, allows you, if you’ve practiced bringing it to the forefront and not burying it under the guise of disease, to once again see for yourself that you don’t really want to drink…

you want to escape.

That’s it. You want to escape in order to feel better. You’re not out for cocktails with the girls, you’re out for blood. (Well, I never really even WANT to drink unless I’m feeling sad, depressed, anxious, or like my existential crises are making my head feel like it’s going to cave in. But, that’s just me, and that’s just me NOW. Back in the day, I remember going out, I just don’t remember drinking beer while out or even caring that I was drinking beer. That’s why they call it a progressive disorder–it progresses, and it changes the way your brain works.)

The problem is, drinking gets you drunk, and then hung over; nothing changes. These days, I keep having to remind myself: the side effect of drinking (too much) is getting drunky drunk–I don’t want that.

I like having the choice to drink. It makes it harder, for sure. I wouldn’t recommend it. But for me, burying the urge–shutting it down, turning it off–is like being a “dry drunk.” Relying on a “higher power” is also externalizing it–someone somewhere will do the mental work for you, is how I see it (for now, anyway). That’s not how it works, at least for me. By allowing myself the choice, it’s like I’m working my “sober mind” muscle out every day, as it really needs to be. I’m present, and while it’s not enjoyable, I come full circle instead of taking the detour. And I’m stronger in the face of tomorrow’s craving. (Unlike some people, I haven’t lost my desire to get buzzed; I don’t have the obsession to drink anymore, though.)

I think that I’m much more apt to call substance abuse a “disorder.” Alcohol use disorder. And, while it might be the case that you “broke” your brain when it comes to booze, disorder implies the ability to rewire; disease implies frayed or short-circuited beyond any further use.

I’m in a “terse” mood tonight, whatever that means! I’ve been working, and walking the dogs, and getting through my runs (with shooting pains all over my legs and a lower back that feels like two hot knives are stuck in it most of the time!), and well, living. Life. My latest editorial project was on quantum physics, and it took me back to my college days, a time that seemed so…fecund. Full of magical unknowns. A time when reading about that kind of stuff could excite me beyond anything I had or even knew I wanted. Now? Well…I’m not sure where wine fits into this tangent, but I remember using wine to put me back in that state of mind–excitement for the magical unknowns out there, waiting for me. I guess, to escape being cynical, knowing too much. I have to work at cultivating this level of excitement almost constantly. Maybe that’s why it’s so hard to stop using wine, too: I expect so much, and when I don’t get it, I feel anxious, unnerved, sad, restless. I can’t always be “high on life.” I have to sleep. Some days will be crummy, or boring, or tedious. This, I do not like. I don’t want to accept it! And you know what, I probably NEVER WILL. 😉

Anyway, happy sober days, friends! 16 weeks and counting…

Tags: alcohol use disorder, alcoholic, alcoholism, binge drinking, cravings, drinking, psychology, recovery, sober, sobriety, wine, women

Comments 8 Comments
Categories Addiction, Alcoholism, Binge drinking, Choices, Cravings, Life, Psychology, Recovery, Sobriety

What a relief to be sober!

28 Jan

1:32 am

Ahh. Whew. What a relief to be sober!

Holy Christ, I’m SO glad to be *contained.* In containment. Maybe even stilted, as in, I’m not sure I could have had a conversation with a stranger tonight (up and down today, mainly due to my usual existential “drama” that seems to prohibit me, absolutely, from simply enjoying the moments). BUT, after seeing a few drunks doing what drunken people do, all I feel is relief: I have nothing to fear, I’m not in that place tonight, and, I DON’T EVER HAVE TO BE IN THAT PLACE AGAIN.

I wanted to drink today, but I knew I wouldn’t. I would get through the night. And, maybe it was a “God shot”: we went to a bar for dinner and there were several things that just made me cringe. One was a guy talking WAY too loudly, sharing WAY too much, touching WAY too frequently. I remember doing that, and watching it at 108 days sober made me feel…uncomfortable. From a distance, watching him, I felt edgy. Nervous, as if his state of mind was contagious and even after all my 108 days of work, I might catch the “drunk as shit” bug and start, well, acting like HIM. Like ME, when I was drunky drunk: out of control, embarrassing, invasive, and, about to get more of all three before too long. Ugh.

Then, we took off, and as we were heading out of the parking lot, I turned my head toward flashing lights. Two cops were pointing their flashlights on a dude who had either fallen or gotten into a fight; he was sitting on the curb smoking a cigarette, and blood was everywhere–on his legs and arms and face, on the ground, on his clothes, on his bare (were they bare?) feet. I’m guessing he was drunk (it’s the place to go out here, so lots of bars and lots of drunken people) and got into some drunken nonsense. Typically when I refer to “nonsense” and “shenanigans,” I’m sort of doing it tongue in cheek. This was not a joke to me tonight; it just made me feel even more nervous, and well, tired. TIRED. Drama, repercussions, head in hands, sighs all around. Apologies, things you can’t take back, waking up with that sinking feeling of dread at the base of your being, knowing that there had been simply, a lot of fucking bullshit. A whole lot of shit.

I’m so glad I’m outside that tangle, at least for now. I felt fearful for a while tonight, but I know that there is nothing to fear. I am not drinking, I will not be getting drunk, and there will be no drunken nonsense or shenanigans. I am going to watch part of a movie on quantum physics with my earbuds in, stay very still (safe) in my bed in the dark, and set my alarm; I am going to get up, brush my teeth, make coffee, and take the dogs for a walk, before starting on a bunch of editing I have to do for this week. I have an interview lined up with a marine biologist for tomorrow (maybe the real reason I’m edgy), and I will call him at the scheduled time. He already has the questions, so there is nothing to fear. And, all this will go down as planned–plus, without the extra TON of weight to carry by being hung over–because I did not drink wine tonight. Thank you, me. Thank you thank you thank you, higher me.

Tags: alcoholic, alcoholism, binge drinking, cravings, drinking, gratitude, higher power, recovery, sober, sobriety, wine, women

Comments 13 Comments
Categories Addiction, Alcoholism, Anxiety, Binge drinking, Cravings, Gratitude, Higher Power, Recovery, Sobriety

You have to go through it to get through it

30 Dec

9:39 pm

I REALLY wanted to drink last night. REALLY, REALLY, REALLY. Frustration, disappointment in self, ennui, fear of the past and future, sadness… I spent the day on the couch, feeling ill, too, which only contributed to this pent-up bad juju.

A fog of desire, that’s what it was. A fog of desire to drink. To drown it out, drown it away.

I used to drink when I felt the way I felt last night. OH, YES, I did. NO WAY IN HELL was I going to let that pimple come to a head. What I mean is, I would shut down the emerging thoughts before they fully formed, effectively transfiguring them into something other, something nebulous–something drunken. I would drink, then weep, yet, I never understood exactly what I was crying about; I knew I felt bad, but I never let myself think the real thoughts, only the drunken, fake ones.

I really wanted to drink the past two days, actually. I’ve just felt low energy, depressed, frustrated. Numerous points, but always the same theme: I’m not doing enough with my talents, I’m wasting valuable time. What’s it all mean? Why create, produce, leave behind, anyway? I’ve forgotten most of my life (I mean, I don’t specifically remember a lot of the hours I’ve been alive, y’know?), what’s the point of creating new memories? (LOL–SUCH a negative thought!) And, of course, the next thought had to come: In fact, what a SHITE thing to do, to have a kid and subject him/her to what I’m feeling and thinking right now, which HAS to cross most people’s minds now and then, right? RIGHT? And on and on. We rented “Ted,” and that was pretty funny, so the night wasn’t ALL BAD, of course! Yet, the whirring continued until my boyfriend went to bed and I was left on the couch (still), wishing I had bought myself a treadmill for Christmas. Or a sledge hammer!

I’ve always felt pressured to accomplish, achieve, create. It’s become an addiction, I know, perceiving my reality this way and reacting to it, usually negatively. However, being sober–getting sober, the process of, actually–has allowed me to begin to see that NO, I don’t have to keep doing what I’ve always done! I have a choice in how I see the world and how I let it make me feel. I mean, I can choose not only WHAT I think about but also HOW I choose to think about certain things, especially my own ideas of productivity, purpose, and achievement. I get to choose how I relate to my thoughts, my feelings, and my gut reactions.

It’s a process, though, so one step forward, two steps back. Last night, I did the usual: I let my brain go there, and pretty soon, I was clenching my gut, nearly wanting to break my teeth because… I…I…What am I doing? What am I doing with my time? Am I simply not a good writer? Have I become a has-been? And then, the thought of thoughts, the rotten core of the apple:

Have I lost myself in being sober? Which, of course, almost instantaneously morphed into, Sobriety has taken myself away from me!

Evil-doer, DEVIL sobriety.

Today, I’m not sure what to think about this melodramatic conclusion except, it’s sort of true. I am no longer my old self. I no longer have wine to boost my mood, to encourage me to want to do what I thought I wanted to do. Without wine, I don’t do this and I don’t do that, so did I ever really LIKE doing this and that? Was I even good at it?

Moreover, I just feel–feel is the key word; feelings are tricky, remember?–like I’m no longer myself! Sure, I’m a new self, and probably a better one. But, I MISS the old me. The “fun” me. I realized I haven’t danced alone in my room since June! That saddens me. And, I have to say, not drinking has left me feeling more content but less happy. I don’t get to get giddy, to let off steam. Sure, I could do this sober, but…why haven’t I?

So, that thought of “I’ve lost myself in getting sober” was what sent me on a crying jag. No wine, though, to initiate it for no apparent reason…and to instantly turn it off when the wine wears off. You know how that goes: you get drunk, you turn on a song (fuck you, Damien Rice), and you start bawling. It feels good, mainly because you DO have something to bawl about but it’s deep down and you simply don’t want to bring it up, or you CAN’T, or you can’t without the wine; and then, the song ends, you abruptly stop crying, and you refill your glass…likely now laughing. At something equally ethereal and, well, NOT REAL.

Last night, the opposite. Real pain, real tears. A staring-me-in-the-face realization that YES, maybe I will never be the same person, maybe I will no longer be able to identify with that self, which I’ve been living with for a long time. Yes, I am getting older; yes, I might not have children; yes, I might be a has-been, as far as the science writing community in [cold east coast city] goes. Yes, yes, yes. And, it hurts.

But you know what? This, too, shall pass. Cry, sit there and sulk in the dark, and then realize, who the FUCK cares anyway aside from little old you? LOL. Like, if John Doe over there doesn’t even KNOW what I’m going through let alone can even identify with it, is it really worth fussing over? Let it go. CHOOSE how you react to your own Never Never Land of thoughts, Drunky Drunk Girl. It’s not real…

A funny thing happened, then, which is pretty simple: I felt better. When I woke up this morning, I felt like I had made some sort of progress. Moved forward, or at least moved beyond a certain point. If I had drunk to drown out my thoughts and feelings, I never would have processed them. I might have had a fake catharsis (cry, hit someone, pass out exhausted), but I would have woken up in the same place–still sad, still semi-baffled and unclear, and worse, HUNG OVAH.

So, the title of my post: you have to go through it to get through it. For me, desiring to drink these days is much less about wanting to get drunk and happy as it is avoiding confronting my “issues.” Which is a good thing to know, really. Simple, but it takes what it takes, right? Oh, AA, I must thank you for your funny little expressions that I’ve sort of come to adore.

(I’ve decided that the Big Book is a bunch of malarkey, but we’ll blog about that another night.)

AND, thank you, Sobersphere, you’ve kept me once again from ruining my streak with one false move–coming up on 90 days in about a week and a half!

Tags: accomplishment, achievement, alcoholic, alcoholism, anxiety, binge drinking, coping mechanism, coping skills, cravings, depression, drinking, ennui, goals, productivity, psychology, recovery, sense of purpose, sobriety, triggers, wine, women

Comments 32 Comments
Categories Addiction, Alcoholism, Anxiety, Binge drinking, Coping mechanisms, Cravings, Depression, Life, Psychology, Recovery, Sobriety, Triggers, Work, Writing

Perspective…and post-hoilday pangs

27 Dec

10:10 pm

Oy. I got ’em. Well, I got pangs, but I don’t got (ouch, sorry, Mom) perspective.

The past few days I’ve felt like a mack truck hit me. I just can’t. Do. Anymore. Taking care of shit. AND, it’s not like I had THAT much to do!? What is wrong with me? All I know is, I’m way too hard on myself AND, drinkin’ won’t fix these (post-)holiday blues…

Anyway, I’m tired. Overwhelmed by…what, exactly? The holidays are kind of bullshit. I mean, stressful, running, spending, expecting, performing, judging…no fucking wonder people go crazy. Someone in my AA circle hanged herself a few days before Christmas. It’s one of those things that just sticks in the back of your mind, rests there like a benign tumor. I had met and talked to her a few times, and she seemed to be, well, on something. Talk about my little first-world problems meaning nothing. Annnnnd, now I’m feeling guilty for having any feelings at all about my life. ARG.

I really wanted to drink today. Feeling somewhat exhausted from the constant telling myself that I really didn’t want to partake in the “fun” at multiple Christmas get-togethers; remaining cheerful even when I felt a little bit like stomping my feet and throwing a tantrum inside; looking on Facebook to see multiple people/friends, OF COURSE, publishing articles, and books, and yada fucking yada. Me? STILL stalling. No pitching, no reporting, no writing. I could do it, I could be competitive. I’m wasting my talents, I often think. Have I simply chosen not to participate, at least for now? Am I just lazy, or still burnt out? Or, maybe I, um, had a mental/nervous breakdown the past three years (since I was fired from my job after a disastrously drunken Christmas party shenanigan–I yelled at my CEO and then missed two days work because I, um, went to jail for disorderly conduct…). In any case, it’s time, isn’t it? Shouldn’t I be busting a move? What is wrong with me?

All these thoughts were circling in my head as I woke this morning. And, I woke from a dream in which I woke up to find that I had gotten shitfaced and texted mean things to like, 20 people while sleeping. Let me repeat: I dreamt that I drank while I was asleep and did a bunch of mean things. So, there is now something called “drunkwalking” in my world, which is made even more meta because I dreamt about it. Jesus.

Today, I tried, but it was hard to really appreciate any of it. The water, the beach with my boyfriend, the sunshine, my new bikini and wrap… So, I decided to come home, take a deep breath, walk the dogs, gaze at the marvelous moonrise through a set of pink clouds, and eat cake. My boyfriend invited me out to the bar where he works, but I just don’t feel like sitting around watching people drink and then trying to have a conversation with someone who won’t remember it and who keeps repeating him/herself anyway…

So, what’s the point of this? Oh, perspective. Wavering at the moment. And I do have pangs, as in “I really want to drink when I hit 90 days”-type pangs, but I’m hoping they’ll pass once I get a handle on my next moves, professionally. This was a problem that nearly floored me when I was drinking, and I would drink and drink and drink over it. Now, I realize that it simply needs to be addressed. I can do it, if I put my mind to it. Drinking will not solve anything, and will only keep me in this place, for longer.

Onward and upward. Or, maybe, let it go and go to bed early. Or, better yet, watch The Lord of the Rings trilogy in preparation for The Hobbit in the theater tomorrow night? YES.

Tags: alcoholic, alcoholism, binge drinking, coping mechanism, coping skills, cravings, depressed, drinking, holiday blues, holidays, lonely, perspective, recovery, sad, sobriety, stress, triggers, wine, women

Comments 11 Comments
Categories Addiction, Alcoholism, Binge drinking, Cravings, Holidays, Recovery, Sobriety, Triggers, Work, Writing

Being sober and being drunk have one thing in common

21 Dec

2:03 am

Life.

Lately I’ve been getting the sense that life isn’t that much different sober. I mean, I don’t have to deal with being ill and all the remorse and self-loathing and nonsense that comes with drinking and hangovers, sure. That’s definitely different. But, now that I’m passed the withdrawal stage(s), now that I’m moving beyond–over, I’d say–the cravings; I feel like Life (with a capital L) is still the same.

It’s hard to put my finger on it, but I don’t feel all that much different sober, personally. I’m still a hard worker, when I want to be. I’m still goal-oriented. I still like running, and animals, and music, and writing, and traveling…and all the other million things in this world that make me “me.” I’m just not obsessed with drinking at the end of my days! I’m happier, in general, sure, but it’s not like life is SO much better, or SO much different. I can see more clearly, yes, and my moods have improved. I can rely on my plans, mainly because I know that I’ll wake up in the morning and be able to follow through–yet, I would try to follow through anyway, it was just a billion times harder with a raging hangover. Maybe I’m just used to not drinking now, and all that comes with it.

I’m coasting. YIKES. Me? I keep waiting for the wolf to pounce, for the desire to drink to roar up out of the hole I buried it in; for the blood-sucking vampire to emerge, in full form, from the grave. I keep waiting, checking over my shoulder every few days to see if it’s following me, the wolf or the vampire. (Where art thou, Sparkle-toothed Unicorn?) I’m not sure I’m out of the woods. Truth be told, I know I’m not.

See, if I let my guard down and open a bottle of red, I’d down the whole thing, I’m sure. And then, I’d head off in search of another, I know. Sigh. How can I seem so confident and then realize, by the same token, that I’m still beholden to this compulsion? In other words, I can say all I want about how “good” I feel being sober, but I’d probably get drunk if I could. And, even more maddening, it wasn’t ALWAYS like this. There were days, let’s say when I was 28, 29, 30 years old (just 8 years ago), when I NEVER could have imagined that this obsession–this desire to down oceans of wine instead of one or two glasses–would have such a hold on me. I don’t remember thinking about drinking back then, outside of when I was actually drinking.

Anyway… Today marks 10 WEEKS, or 70 days! Wow. It’s the longest I’ve gone. I never tried to not drink, and over the past 10 years, I should have–I really should have. (It takes what it takes, as they say in AA.) The closest I came was 60 days in August, and now I’ve gone past that by 10. I’m looking ahead toward 90, but I’m not expecting it to drop a pot of gold on my head or anything; life is life, death is death, by turns glorious and surreal.

(I do wonder, though, what I’d be like if I was holding down a “real” job (read: office, deadlines, bitchy editor), or if I was living alone in [cold east coast city]. I’ve constructed a life here that’s pretty temptation-less, and so far, somewhat contained. When the time comes, I’ll deal, right? Right. Let go and let God. ;))

Tags: alcoholic, alcoholism, binge drinking, compulsive behavior, cravings, drinking, faith, healing, obsession to drink, recovery, sobriety, wine, women

Comments 15 Comments
Categories Addiction, Alcoholism, Binge drinking, Cravings, Life, Recovery, Sobriety

8 weeks came and went and…no time for drinkin’!

7 Dec

2:33 pm

Of course, the thought has crossed my mind more than a few times–I have a friend in town who used to be a crazy-ass drinkin’ buddy (we got into a LOT of trouble/troubles together)–but do I have to acknowledge it as anything more than an errant bug in my program? NOPE.

I’m keeping busy and truly enjoying my work (for once), my free time (swimming is a FUN way to exercise, and what do you know, the more fun it is the more I want to do it), and planning my future work and free time. I can go to bed and look forward to waking up and just continuing where I left off. I can plan my days and the work I will do, and know that there won’t be any snags, physical or mental or emotional–alcohol is no longer in my way!

I hate to say this, but I will anyway: I almost feel in control of this thing called “my drinking problem.” Does that mean I’m going to drink? No. Does that mean I have to be extra-vigilant? Not really. All I have to do is not drink. And, the best part is, the sense of control comes from my continued work at thinking myself out of drinking, which seems to have changed things up there because it really is getting easier not only to say no, but also to not want to drink in the first place. I feel like I can (much?) more easily resist my cravings because I know (from experience) that drinking will be exhausting, likely not that much fun, and will ruin the next day. The consequences don’t necessarily have to be major; even minor ones seem to me NOW to be majorly sucky, so why disrupt my flow?

I’ve been to only one meeting this week, and let me tell you, it feels GREAT. Great to be away from AA, to be away from AA people, to be away from the AA mentality. I dislike the “once a drunk, always a drunk” mentality; it bogs me down and seems to me to detract, actually, from my success/progress. Too much AA is well, too much AA. In fact, I find AA depressing; I almost feel LESS empowered, worse about myself, and like, I’ll always have this problem. I don’t know about you, but my question has always and will always be: don’t you want to SOLVE the problem and move on? Can’t you? Can’t you leave it behind, officially stop dwelling? (Maybe once I do the steps and get to #12, it’ll all make sense…) I think it’s AA’s trick to keep you there, which purposely contributes to your fear of drinking and therefore, to your sustained sobriety. For me, there’s something about fearing drinking and fearing my “drinking problem,” not to mention having a perpetual problem that just feels…wrong–eh, two or three meetings a week is enough AA for now.

Anyway, happy Friday to all!

Tags: AA, alcoholic, Alcoholics Anonymous, alcoholism, binge drinking, cravings, drinking, drinking buddies, psychology, recovery, sobriety, wine, women

Comments 6 Comments
Categories AA, Addiction, Alcoholism, Binge drinking, Cravings, Psychology, Recovery, Sobriety

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Drunky Drunk Girl

Here’s to the 12-to-20-weeks window closing!

I win, YOU LOSE, said the self-righteous “dry drunk”

18 weeks and 4 months should NOT be equal, right?

16 weeks and…I have the choice to drink

What a relief to be sober!

You have to go through it to get through it

Perspective…and post-hoilday pangs

Being sober and being drunk have one thing in common

8 weeks came and went and…no time for drinkin’!

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