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“It wouldn’t be a bad idea if I drank” vs. “It wouldn’t be a good idea if I drank”

5:34 pm

Ahh, the mind. Chattering monkeys. (Wait: I actually have more respect for primates’ intelligence than that!) Chittering INSECTS.

These days, as I just commented on Belle’s blog, I no longer look at people drinking red wine in the sun and automatically think, Oh, sigh, I wish that were me. I wish I could drink. I wish I could be happy, like them. I wish I didn’t need the wine to do it. Are they really happy before the wine? Could I be? Will I ever be?

Lately, I don’t automatically want to drink OR want their happiness. I know now that “happiness” is big, wide, not easily gotten or defined. That it takes work. That I can be versions of “happy.” That I don’t have to be “happy” to be, well, happy.

Substituting wine for happiness holds no weight for me at this point; and, that makes me sad sometimes. Sure, I miss the buzz, and I miss what it represents (fun, youth, old times, etc.), but…I know now that when the wine wears off, all you’re left with is a fake time had by all, a hangover, and your untended sadness. You just can’t live in unhappiness for long, though. I mean, I think that’s what AA means by “dry drunk,” in that, if you come to accept the fact that alcohol does not equal happiness, then you also are compelled to find happiness where it really exists. Hard work, no avoiding. Growing up. Growing OUT. EXPANDING.

For me, it’s been about “re-training” my brain, as Lisa writes about on her blog, to dissociate “reward” from wine. And, it’s also been about coming to terms with the fact that my yearning is a good thing. I think I yearn for wine–what it used to do, give, be for me–but in my heart, I feel (know) that this yearning is actually for what makes me happy. Which I’m still figuring out. This yearning propels me to continue to seek out what will bring me actual happiness. There is no illusion anymore that it’s wine’s job. It’s mine.

So, no, it would not be a good idea if I drank.

That being said, lately I’ve been noticing my mind circling around one thought: moderation. It usually manifests in the form of a sentence sneakily similar to the one above: It would not be a BAD idea if I drank.

Would it?

Like, would it be that bad? Could I handle it? I suppose the “it” here is moderation. That horrible two-drink thing. ICK. EWW. GRR.

It’s a strange shift in perspective. It would not be a GOOD idea if I drank…when I am desperate, sad, mad, depressed, or existentially challenged. It would not be a GOOD idea if I drank in “fuck it” mode. But… What?

I don’t really have many “fuck it” moments anymore. I don’t seem to have those pits of despair, those desperate, sad, mad, depressed, or existentially-challenging moments anymore. Sure, I sort of have them, it’s just that when they come, I know how to deal with them. I don’t consider wine, it is not an option. I know what ELSE to do, what ELSE to think, and I’m pretty much able to let most of the unnecessary negativity go. I no longer need to warn myself, No, it really would not be a GOOD idea if you drank right now.

But…would it be a BAD idea if I drank? In moments of calm, of joy, of nothing special? I mean, how bad could it be? I could probably manage a night, maybe more–a week, a month?–drinking in “moderation.” However, I know from experience that once you let your guard down, once you open yourself up to the possibility of using that old, tired, haggard solution to your problems, it’s hard to consider the other, better solutions.

I think this is called “well-worn neural pathways;” or, in other words, “alcoholism.” Geez.

See, I’ve been wondering lately if–and when–I will be able to drink in moderation again. (I still have hope, I’ll admit it.) And, I keep telling myself, the only way I will allow myself to try is if I truly believe that I can take it or leave it. If I could stand over a bottle of red wine and say, “I could drink you…or not, it doesn’t really matter“–only then would I be “recovered.”

And, honestly, I can’t even imagine doing that yet–going on 17 months getting sober.

I’ve seen a lot of posts and comments about moderation lately. I know what you want, because I want it, too: We want to drink without the compulsion to have MORE.

Sure, we all CAN drink in moderation, if we activate our superpowers. The question is, do we WANT to? I mean, I am able to stop after two drinks, but it sucks. IT SUCKS. My version of hell, in fact, would be having to participate in one of those harm reduction programs where you and your counselor go out to a bar, you drink your two drinks, and then you both sit there together, coming down from your two drinks. GAWD. Talk about painful. Apparently, it helps you “moderate” your consumption by helping you tolerate your compulsion. To LEARN ways to come down and then, walk away. Um, WHAT? How is that NOT Dante’s Inferno?

Every time I’ve had two drinks (in the past, let’s say, 5 years), I’ve felt nothing but one of two things: an irritating-to-extreme desire to have more, and when I know I can’t, an irritating-to-extreme agitation. Moderation just seems HARD, so, I guess I’d prefer to skip those two measly drinks than have to deal with the hard work of stopping when I don’t want to.

“You play, you pay,” is what one of my wiser roommates used to tell me as he watched me deal with the night before. Simple, but good advice. For now, I’m putting the idea of moderation back into its box and under the bed. It’ll be there when I get back, I’m sure. 😉

Tags: alcoholic, alcoholism, binge drinking, drinking, drinking in moderation, moderation, psychology, recovery, sober, sobriety, two-drink rule, wine, women

Comments 13 Comments
Categories Addiction, Alcoholism, Binge drinking, Moderation, Psychology, Recovery, Sobriety

Don’t give up before your motivation returns

5 Nov

2:46 pm

So, in getting sober, I’ve realized that there are things about myself that I know. Things that simply make me “me,” that are neither things that I have to accept nor things that I have to change. They are things that just ARE, and these things are OK.

Like, I’ve always been an overachiever. Some of this behavior was maladaptive, but to a certain degree, I was just born this way. I THRIVE off stress, off getting things done. A LOT of people do, I’m not saying I’m special. In fact, I’ve been wondering about this ever since I got sober. Why have I been struggling so much this past year? Well, I’ve been lacking in motivation because I don’t have wine anymore, that’s true, but I’ve also been going against my grain. Why do I need to go, go, go? Why do I like big cities, with all their ambitious people and innovative ideas and commotion and conflict? I don’t know! I just DO. That’s me.

The past few days have been awesome–large to-do lists, lots of information and sources to research, too much to do, all of it competing for my time. I got off on working in environments like this–for years I worked in the startup industry, and when I went back to corporate America, I can look back now and say that’s when I became depressed. When I went back to graduate school and was once again stretched to my limit, I was on top of the world again! Too bad I didn’t know how to manage my stress and my expectations–my “workaholism,” I suppose I could call it.

It’s always been a fine line for me, but in re-reading my journal from this year last night, I can say this much: I was my most enthusiastic after returning from a weekend visit back to NYC; and, I have never been more vexed, in general, than this past year struggling with too little to do and no motivation to do it.

No motivation was a daily thing in my journal, from about March until, well, now. It’s seriously been a theme in my getting sober. It was a constant struggle, and I blogged about it quite a bit. Now? I feel like there’s been some movement, something’s changed. My brain is healing, for real. Chemicals and circuits are getting back in shape. And, I can honestly say that it’s been like a missile landing in my lap, this return of my motivation levels. What a relief.

My focus, my desire to work, and my ability to manage my time–it’s all back, so it seems. I can “parse” information even better than I remember I could. For example, I seem to have learned how to say “Fuck it” to my perfectionist tendency to get lost in the details when reporting, and instead, focus on the bigger picture, the gist of it. What I need to know is who to contact; what I don’t need to know is their field of expertise (that’s why I’m interviewing them), OR–and this is key–whether or not they’re going to think I’m stupid or ill-prepared. That’s none of my business, what they think of me. (And, they simply don’t think of me, is the point. When I was drinking, I was always so concerned with what others were supposedly thinking about me. Ugh.)

It really does seem that it’s happened only within the past several weeks, maybe a month or two at most–along with motivation, I find myself focusing less on the “what if’s” and trying to perfect the outcome, and more on the “why not?” and “just do it.”

I almost gave up. I was so frustrated that I was going to be “brain-dead” forever. It’s been almost 17 months since I started getting sober, so, seeing my focus and motivation needing that long to come back is DEFINITELY a deterrent to me starting to drink again (even in moderation, whatever that means).

These past few weeks, I feel new. Renewed. A version 3.0 of myself. (I was going to say 2.0, but I think at 39, I’ve already had at least one major upgrade, right?)

The point of this post is, don’t give up! It will come. As Carol said on “Walking Dead” on Sunday’s episode (because you never know where you’re going to find sober inspiration!):

How do you not feel afraid? You just fight it and fight it and fight it and then one day, you’re not afraid anymore. We all change.

Tags: accept things about myself, acceptance, alcoholic, alcoholism, binge drinking, brain fixed, change, drinking, fear, fix brain, focus, increased focus, increased motivation, it is what it is, motivation, overachiever, psychology, rebound, recovery, sober, sobriety, things I know about myself, triggers, Walking Dead, what is, wine, women, work, workaholic

Comments 6 Comments
Categories Addiction, Alcoholism, Binge drinking, Change, Issues, Moods, Psychology, Recovery, Self-employment, Sobriety, Triggers, Work, Writing

Why, hello, music, I forgot about you

3 Nov

3:36 pm

Fragile. Remember that Sting song? LOVED it. LOVE it still. It’s on.

Yes, I’m listening to music for the first time–well, I’m exaggerating slightly–since getting sober. I got sober and, for reasons that were nebulous and that I’m just beginning to understand 17 months later, I stopped listening to music.

Maybe I wanted silence. Maybe I needed to focus; like, I couldn’t handle any amount of distraction, I had to work THAT hard at not giving into my incessant cravings. Maybe I needed, somehow, to be in my sober tomb–long enough so that I could be resurrected?

Man, I love music. I love all kinds. ALL kinds. I used to play classical piano–for 10 years. I tried guitar, and flute, and hand drums. I lugged my guitar all the way from the States, and it’s one of my few possessions down here (the rest are in storage). I mean, with all the sitting in front of my computer, pushing through such complicated subject matter, wouldn’t I at least need a break?

Why did I stop listening to music when I got sober? I think it was the effect it had on me, and all the emotions that it conjured. I just couldn’t handle being emotional. Even without wine, music can make me laugh, cry, rage–music can MAKE ME FEEL. When I got sober, everything carried an inordinate amount of weight: Oh, God, that’s the Tori Amos song I used to weep to while slumped over my laptop, drunk out of my mind; Oh, Lord, that’s the Damien Rice song I used to “dance” to when I was falling-down drunk; Oh, fuck, those are all the songs that I went out to, that I turned 30 to, that I relaxed to. That I came of age to, that I planned and dreamed to. That I fell in love to. That I worked and ate and slept to.

I was raw then, and I still feel a bit disturbed, I guess, in listening to music for too long. Like, I would never touch my Sade Pandora station unless I’m feeling 100 percent craving-free. There is an entire genre of music (trip hop) that reminds me so much of my mid- and late-20s that I can’t even bear to hear the first few chords of a lot of those songs. (I hope to get over this one day, because I really do love a lot of those songs.) I haven’t danced in my bedroom, so to speak, but twice since getting sober–once at a bar, to mostly 80s/new wave, and twice on my own next to my desk one afternoon to that stupidly catchy Daft Punk song, “Get Lucky.” (OK, chair and car dancing doesn’t count.)

Weird, because you’d think I’d WANT to release some of this pent-up emotion and energy. I don’t know. Maybe I’m one of those weirdos who needs to focus on the pain in order for it to go away–I know that AA did not work because I didn’t like the way talking about my drinking problem made it seem too uncontained, unmanageable, like a loose sail flapping all over the place in heavy winds.

It’s nice, though, to finally be able to turn it off and just zone out. Blur. Stop focusing. Let the outside world of sound IN. And, with that, I’m working it out.

Tags: alcoholic, alcoholism, binge drinking, chair dancing, Daft Punk, distraction, drinking, Get Lucky, listening to music sober, music, music drinking trigger, music makes me emotional, psychology, recovery, sober, sobriety, triggers, why I can't listen to music sober, wine, women

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

Nostalgia, not cravings

1 Nov

11:12 pm

I wanted to drink last night. Why? I have this thing that says, I can’t go out and not drink. I can’t hang sober. And, most importantly, I can’t get my “sexy cop” or “sexy nurse” or “sexy unicorn” on WITHOUT WINE. I just can’t do it yet.

I felt sad last night, too. I felt sad that I wasn’t in the big city I used to live in, that I wasn’t dressing up like I used to, that I wasn’t going out to marvel at the bazillion costumes on the streets; that I was here, at home, not able to care, unwilling to even try to pull a costume together.

It wasn’t Wolfie, though, because I didn’t actually want to drink. (OK, maybe I did, but it wasn’t a huge craving.) I just wanted what I used to have, which always happened to include wine! The number of things that I no longer do that coincide with me no longer drinking–well, that’s the rub. I changed a LOT in getting sober, including my job, my location, my friends, and my relationship status. And, in getting sober itself, well, you guys know, you change everything within all those sub-categories! So, sometimes I can’t quite parse out what, exactly, I feel and need to focus on from the mess of thoughts.

No, it wasn’t Wolfie-boy. It was nostalgia. For what I had, and for what I now don’t have.

So, I spent the night feeling sad, and then pouted, and then just went to bed. But, you know what? I got a pumpkin today. And, I wasn’t hung over. And, it’s been a hugely productive past few weeks as a freelance writer. I feel like my renewed focus and enthusiasm to work has been building–and, the past week or so, it just sort of popped! For instance, it seems that all of the sudden, I am pitching, not caring what editors think about me (they don’t), have started having days when the story ideas just keep coming (or, rather, I’ve stopped killing them before they have the chance to bloom in my head).

In fact, Belle was right on about something changing around 8 to 10 months–it happened to me, too. Somewhere around 9 months, things just changed.

I guess I sort of stopped automatically linking wine with relief. Stopped wanting it whenever my energy flagged, or my mood swung, or an editor rejected me, or someone was following me too close in my car, or the sun went behind the clouds. I mean, I still do have thoughts of wine–especially when I am feeling nostalgic and I want what “was” and not what “is”–but I don’t really feel the pull anymore to drink when shit hits the fan. As I wrote on Lilly’s blog the other day, it’s almost like “drinking is not fun” has become a fact, one that is simply impossible to deny. Drinking is not fun–fact. I have other options, like going to bed, or sitting there with a grimace, or watching tv and sighing, or petting the dogs, or going for a 15-minute run and then coming back to my desk and NOT GIVING UP. This idea that drinking is the answer, this emotional pull–it’s gone. And I never thought it would happen, honestly. I thought I would have to battle this pull forever, however niggling. I still do have cravings, but the urge to drink as reaction seems to have disappeared. Bigger fish to fry, Wolfie-fuckhead. SEE YA!

On that note, I am going to go and carve my pumpkin now. Maybe I should give it a wolf’s face? Happy All Saints’ Day, friends!

Tags: alcoholic, alcoholism, better focus sober, binge drinking, change, cravings, drinking, drinking is not fun, emotional addiction, emotional addiction to wine, Halloween sober, holidays, holidays sober, more energy sober, nostalgia, partying sober, psychology, pull to drink, recovery, sober, sobriety, socializing sober, triggers, what is, what was, wine, women, work

Comments 8 Comments
Categories Addiction, Alcoholism, Bars, Binge drinking, Change, Cravings, Holidays, Psychology, Recovery, Sobriety, Socializing, Triggers, Work, Writing

Learning to let go, or, how to take out the trash

25 Oct

10:55 pm

I wanted to write a “thoughtful” post, but really, I’m just tired and glad to see the end of another tough week of job and life and story searching.

Anyway, I’ve noticed that over the past few weeks, I’m beginning to get the hang of getting rid of what I don’t need–or, how to take out the trash. For instance, if I wake up in a bad mood, sure, I’m in a bad mood but I also see the futility of hanging onto it pretty much beyond like, an hour after getting up. I let it go and embrace what I do have: a full day, the decision-making ability to choose to be, if not unicorns-shitting-glitter happy, then at least not in a bad mood.

Or, learning to let the sometimes ignorant behavior of locals down here roll off my back. Driving the other day, someone was either tailing me (there is no concept of courtesy distance) or making gestures when I didn’t know I was supposed to go around the makeshift construction zone, and I drove past and wanted to flip him off. But, I didn’t. Instead, I let myself feel about three seconds of uncontrollable fury and then…exhaled loudly, telling myself that it doesn’t matter, these people don’t matter, think about all the good people that you are going to help today and tomorrow and in the future. Bam, gone. Take what you need and trash the rest. It’s all the rest.

I can see why so many things made me want to drink–mainly because I didn’t know how to ignore what I didn’t need, or simply get rid of what wasn’t serving me. That goes deep, too, from how to react to story pitching, to how to field negativity from friends, to something as simple as how not to want to smash my scanner into bits and pieces because some stupid company thinks it’s OK to put the burden of scanning a PDF on the applicant (pet peeve of mine–not everyone has access to a home scanner or a FedEx where they can have it done!).

Now, I NEED to monitor the trash and take it out constantly in order to stay sober–and sane. If I reacted negatively and carried that reaction with me to every thing that bothered or irritated or vexed or hurt me, like I used to do, I just don’t think I could continue to remain sober.

I’ve still got work to do, though. As I said, I went on a job interview yesterday, and after I left the building and nearly stumbled down the hill to my car in my heels (heels and sidewalks built into volcanic hillsides don’t mix, btw), sweating in the already 85-degree heat at 10 am; I realized that I hadn’t really took a breath since I got up that morning. Nice one. Way to hold it all in! It was interesting (dismaying?) to see how much my sciatica flared just from that hour of tension–self-imposed, but still real–but I can live with a little pain. For now.

What I can’t live with, however, is not knowing how to make it different. I want to learn how to be totally relaxed on the inside but also ready on the outside–muscles and mind contracted in order to move and compete in the world, but to not care about the outcome (that much). My goal? How to toss the bag in the trash…as I exit a full pirouette. 🙂

Tags: alcoholic, alcoholism, binge drinking, drinking, get rid of what doesn't serve you, learning how to live sober, leave the rest, let it go, letting it go, not reacting, psychology, recovery, sober, sobriety, staying in the moment, take out the trash, wine, women, work

Comments 6 Comments
Categories Addiction, Alcoholism, Binge drinking, Psychology, Recovery, Sobriety, Work

“If I feel this way tomorrow, I’m going to drink”

20 Oct

10:29 am

And, I woke up feeling the same way I felt last night, and the night before, and the night before. Am I glad I wasn’t also hung over? YES. Will I drink tonight? I don’t know.

I feel like a lot of the time, I’m waiting for my “break.” I never get to escape, turn it off. It’s maddening. No amount of “wholesome” fun, like yoga, running, swimming, socializing sober, even JOB FUCKING SEARCHING ON A SATURDAY NIGHT (welcome to the reality of freelance writing) can fully mask the feeling that all these things are just placeholders for the real deal.

Yet, I have to ask myself, is drinking the real deal? Even as I whine about having no escape, no down time, and thinking that wine will fix this agitation, this irritated hole; I’m not at all sure that it WILL. And, I know from waking up this morning, and feeling an emotional hangover, it would have been SO much worse had I drunk (copious amounts, I’m sure) out of desperation last night and added a physical one on top of it.

So, I move ahead today. With my aching heart and burning, twisted stomach, forcing a smile and doing what needs to be done. Check, check, check. I know eventually it’ll lift, and at some point today, I’ll be doing things more out of “yay” and less out of “have to do this, here, I’ve done it.” I guess.

Strange days, indeed.

Tags: alcoholic, alcoholism, binge drinking, boredom, break, cravings, drinking, emotional hangover, escape, going through the motions, lack of stimulation, psychology, recovery, sober, sobriety, wine, women

Comments 25 Comments
Categories Addiction, Alcoholism, Binge drinking, Boredom, Cravings, Psychology, Recovery, Sobriety

Allowing myself to be happy, or, the balance between “should” and “want”

18 Oct

4:41 pm

The longer I am sober, the more I am learning–having to learn, and painfully most of the time–how to allow myself to be happy. I had a friend about ten years ago who used to tell me that I liked being in pain. That I liked not being happy. I took offense to that, as well as feigned confusion: Me? Reaaaaaallllly?

Years later, after sort of (well, OK, totally) confronting my drinking problem, I am realizing just how much truth there is to his observation. I don’t–I never fucking DID–allow myself to be happy, and I drank because of it. I did things I “should,” never things I “want.”

In fact, I had a nightmare the other night in which I was rendered unable to breathe in the midst of a “craving panic.” You know what craving panics are, I’m sure: that anxiety that must be quenched, now, right now, and if it’s not, which it won’t be and can’t be but has to be, you start to feel your insides boil, your heart clench, your throat close…and your breathing stops. You need wine, right now. Yes, it was horrible. I woke up feeling sick, and had to take a few minutes to catch my breath.

And what was I doing in said nightmare? I was sitting in a salon chair, getting my hair cut. But I hated the hair cut. And, I couldn’t tell her (who?) that I hated it. Which made me want to drink more than I ever remember wanting to drink. And, after I woke up and calmed down, I remembered something, a small thing really: when I was about 12, going into the 7th grade, I got my hair cut really short. I don’t remember exactly how it happened, but it was the 80s and my “stylist,” Louise, thought my curls would look SO CUTE short. My mom wore her hair severely short, and she agreed. Me? Not so much. I sat there in silence, though, as my hair was butchered. Tears started to pinch out of my eyes, and my face went red trying to hold them back. I was crying, and my hair was gone. There was nothing I could do. We all looked at each other. “She’ll get used to it,” and “It looks SO CUTE!” I felt voiceless then, and I remember now how often I felt this way growing up.

Fast forward to now, and this voicelessness–stifling my own ideas of what I want, my expression, my creativity–remains to a certain extent. And, it was a large part–an integral part–of why I drank, I see now. Never allowing myself to do what I wanted, instead only what I should, what I thought everyone wanted me to do! I mean, I could go deep into this, but the gist of it is, as a twin, as an introvert, as a perfectionist at heart, as someone with an absentee father and fighting parents, all my efforts went into overachieving as a kid. When I got to high school, this morphed into a masochism that kept me up until 2 am every morning, joining and trying to excel at every single extracurricular activity on tap. College brought a crash-and-burn of sorts in the form of bulimia, heart palpitations, running away to France for a year. And finally, wine. Wiiiiine.

After my early 20s, when I WAS doing something I wanted, I reverted back to my old ways. Late 20s came and went, early 30s. I thought I was doing what I wanted, so why was I drinking all the time, exhausted and anxious and irritated and downright angry? My brain always hurt. I felt alone. Was it supposed to be this way? Everyone ELSE in New York was running around, overachieving, working and then, drinking until all hours, weren’t they?

I drank, that’s all I know. I drank after a long day of doing a job that both bored me and overwhelmed me. I drank all throughout a graduate degree that stressed me beyond which I thought humanly possible. I drank to be able to get the courage and extroversion to reach out to sources, to interview them. I would drink for these very reasons now, if I had my way! I notice now that most of the day, my stomach is sort of clenched, my gut apprehensive: ugh, I have to research this complicated subject matter; ugh, I have to get the balls and the thick skin to be able to pitch and then, face rejection of my pitch; ugh, I have to worry CONSTANTLY about earning enough money to pay my rent. Some of the best days are when I don’t have to think about this shit.

But yet…I LIKE IT. I need it!

See, on the other hand, I NEED this sort of achievement in my life, goals that are gotten by hard work. If it’s not hard-won, if it doesn’t hurt, it couldn’t be worth it, right? I have to achieve at least as much as my competitors, if not more, don’t I? Where is the line between doing something that you put up with in order to “grow” and “push your boundaries,” and doing something that you love and it being easy, almost too easy in the sense that you stagnate, that you never find that sense of accomplishment that comes from a hard job done well?

Sigh. It’s especially confusing now that I’ve gotten sober. I put down the wine glass only to realize that I drank to avoid this edge, this cliff, one which I can neither back away from nor jump off of. I am sitting on this cliff, scared out of my mind, knowing that I “can’t go home again” but pretty sure I can’t fly!

I know now that I drank in the face of these feelings of wanting to do something easier, more fun, more with my grain; while at the same time feeling afraid that I wouldn’t be challenging myself enough if I put down my burden–and, abandon the sense of identity that doing the hard work got me.

I’ve been this way all my life–a highly overachieving, academic-focused person. It’s served me well, and believe me, when I look at my resume and see my degrees from Ivy League schools and “impressive” roster of companies that I’ve worked for, I’m not ashamed. I’m proud, but only to a certain extent. At this point, I’ve realized that life is forgettable if you’re not doing something that makes you happy, that makes your day enjoyable. That’s all that we’re going to the grave with, is a memory of our happiness, locked into every cell in our body. Maybe that’s what gets us to the next plane.

What does being happy mean, though? Right now, to me being happy means not feeling stressed to the point that I’m going to get cancer of the second (voice) and fifth (sacral) chakras. Yet, it also means being challenged, and having the ability to write, to teach, to explain–I am good at this, and I like the process. So, how do I do this AND not let it get to me? How do I reconcile a desire to “achieve” in the sense that most of us here in the US understand–working for appraisal, and winning–and an equally strong desire to “let it go” and work to live? How, in fact, do I allow myself to be happy, no matter what I’m doing for work, or for play?

Tags: alcoholic, alcoholism, allowing myself to be happy, binge drinking, drinking, happiness, overachiever, psychology, recovery, should, should vs. want, sober, sobriety, want, wine, women, work

Comments 5 Comments
Categories Alcoholism, Binge drinking, Happiness, Psychology, Recovery, Sobriety, Work

Letting others take responsibility for…

7 Oct

11:38 pm

Their anger.

Their sadness.

Their confusion.

Their lack of sense of purpose, of self.

Their lack of trust, or faith.

Their joy.

Their “luck.”

Their change, or growth.

Their happiness.

I have been working on an “amends” with my brother for almost two years. Two years over ONE incident in which I blacked out and screamed mean things at him and his girlfriend, mainly at his girlfriend.

The other night, we finally talked. After months, maybe close to a year.

I got the impression that my brother was drunk. It made me smile (in an “oh, the irony” sort of way), and cringe a little. He finally asked a question about my boyfriend, which rubbed me the wrong way anyway (mind you, he’s never before, in the near-two years we’ve been dating, even acknowledge him as being in my life). And, he’s never ONCE asked me about my sobriety, how any of that is going. Not once. Ever. It’s relevant here because, if it was such a big deal, isn’t my getting sober part of that big deal now, too? Or, shouldn’t it be?

I don’t feel that pissed anymore, just sorry. Sorry about what happened, sure, of course. But sorry, too, for them. Sorry that he can’t forge the courage to call his own sister because his girlfriend is telling him he can’t. Sorry that she and he are in a relationship where she fans the flames of his anger and resentments–to match her own, many of which are based in her early-life trauma (psychological problems, incest, rape). Sorry that they don’t have any friends. Sorry that they don’t want any friends. Sorry that they might not see any of this; sorry that they seem to feel the pain that it causes anyway. Is it I who is in pain here, though? Am I unhappy because they seem unhappy to me? (Some of it is that they ARE unhappy; some of it is that I am projecting my own goals and values on them, for better or for worse.)

What I realized in all this is, everyone is responsible for their own happiness. And to grant people that responsibility is you telling them that you have faith in their ability to tackle what I would consider life’s hardest challenge–to live without resistance, i.e., be happy. Me saying I’m sorry a million times, and worrying about whether two “co-dependent” people are going to forgive me–this does me no good. This is meaningless, actually. I don’t have to care about this outcome, and I don’t have to make them happy. I don’t have to worry about whether they’re happy or not.

See, I think I’ve spent a LOT of time in my life not only caring what others think about me, but shouldering–internalizing–their responsibility for their own happiness. For some reason, I feel guilty that my brother, or my mother, or my father, or my boyfriend, or my friend is unhappy. I drank over it, in one way or another. It’s taken a lot of work, actually, to see this tendency to want to please taken to the extreme: the need to solve everyone else’s unhappiness!

Sigh. Deep breath. Like I said, I carry this around, like a burden. It’s so deeply ingrained in me that I’m barely conscious of it–this “ability” to see others’ pain and lack, and then, my habit of not letting that go and leaving them to tend their own gardens. However, when I quit drinking, it was staring me in the face, and there was no way around dealing with it. And, once I started learning how to let go, even forcing myself to “not care,” I became MUCH happier–more balanced, had more time and space to focus on my own self, my healing, tackling of cravings, even probing into deeper mental realms.

Some people don’t like it when you leave them alone, though. They don’t like it when you hand them back their issues and say, Here, this shit is YOURS, bitch (Breaking Bad reference!). It’s a rejection, and an abandonment. I’ve felt that way, actually, when certain friends (and even my brother) have told me to get a handle on my drinking…and then literally disappeared, walked away. I felt abandoned; it was unfair, I felt, and it hurt.

It was the catalyst, though, for me learning to finally stand alone, and take charge. Whether there is anyone to lean on or not. And, I could do it. I CAN do it.

So, this handing back responsibility is also a way for them to say, And, I know you can do it. I have faith in you; I know you can take responsibility for your own happiness. It’s a way for them to say, I can’t do this for you, and you can’t do mine for me–but, hey, that’s life, kiddo. We are ALL responsible for our own happiness.

This is not to say that amends aren’t important. I have to say that I don’t think I would stir the pot in the case of most of the people I’ve hurt and/or offended; it’s over, and revisiting the hurts would cause more damage. I do, however, believe that continual effort on my part to conduct my relationships well, to handle my end of the deal, is key to dissolving any and all remaining bad karma. I guess.

I wasn’t pissed at my brother after hanging up. I wasn’t dubious, or sad, or emotionally changed in any one direction. In fact, I just kind of let it go. So be it, I thought. If they’re still pissed, that’s their problem. Literally. And, problems can be solved. Just with this one, it’s not going to be by me.

Tags: alcoholic, alcoholism, binge drinking, drinking, family, happiness, healthy relationships, karma, making amends, psychology, recovery, responsibility for own happiness, self-empowerment, sober, sobriety, wine, women

Comments 14 Comments
Categories Addiction, Alcoholism, Amends, Binge drinking, Family, Habits, Issues, Psychology, Recovery, Self-empowerment, Sobriety

Sitting and zoning out, or, this too shall pass

5 Oct

4:49 pm

Just sitting.

And zoning.

And eating cheese quesadillas and vanilla chocolate chip ice cream.

And not doing a whole lot of anything.

I’m baffled as to why my motivation can go from 10 to 1 in a matter of 24 hours, and does this every other 24 hours? I cycle in and out, in and out. Two steps forward, one step back. It is almost 5 pm and I’ve done a total of jack shit. (Part of my frustration is the fact that I remain in search of work, and others are searching, too, and we’re all facing the same, bigger-than-ourselves social problems that just Can’t Be Fixed by four (white) folks who aren’t from here. Sigh. I let it get to me; they seemingly don’t. And, it’s probably frustrating me a LOT more than I’m consciously aware of–which, essentially, is contributing to my feeling helpless, which always makes me want to escape with wine. I am impatient, I guess, and don’t like sitting with frustration=How’s about a glass of wine to “solve” that problem, hmmmmmmm?)

I wonder, is it that I simply don’t have a deep well to draw from anymore, when it comes to motivation, perseverance, and joie de vivre? I mean, staying sober takes a lot of that out of you, and keeps on wringing and wringing. In fact, I’ve read about studies showing that your willpower to resist temptation (drink, food) decreases the more tired out you are from other, mentally-exhausting tasks (think, you’re more apt to chow down on that Snickers if you’ve spent the day doing something mentally exhausting versus if you spent it chilling by the pool). Maybe this is part of getting older? Or, is it that I actually NEED more time off? Maybe I am (and have been, for a while) utterly burnt out, after all these years of overachieving, such that I can find neither interest nor rationale for anything whose main reward is “accomplishment” or “success?” The words ring hollow now, and I can only imagine the actual concepts banging around inside my soul like two empty milk cartons. They hold no weight.

I know I need to stop going against the grain, rest if I need to rest, sleep if I need to sleep, etc. BUT…when do I need to give myself a kick in the rear?

And, I’ve talked about this before, but sometimes I have so little energy/motivation (compared to how I used to feel, before I got sober) that I can’t even be bothered to drink! Sometimes (often?) drinking served as a way to not simply make myself feel better, or happier, or less depressed; but as a way to make myself see that I was trying to make it better. If I was drinking, at least I hadn’t totally given up, right? I was at least TRYING to make things better. I was trying to motivate myself to feel good, and that made me feel like I hadn’t completely given in to the lethargy and depression. Today, even if I wanted to drink, I really can not be bothered to pick up a bottle or even pour the glass. I know it won’t work, and I know, deep down (on day 201 today) that I can’t go back. I can’t go home again when it comes to wine.

I’ve figured out a few things lately, though, that help. One is physical activity. I’m not talking about a run, or a swim, or a walk, but all three, over a 4- or 8-hour period! I’ve often thought that if I could ONLY JUST STAY IN CONSTANT MOTION, then the urge to drink wouldn’t be so strong. This helped early on, and it’s helping me now when it comes to freelance writing: a solid bout of activity, 4 hours let’s say, helps to calm my mind, clears out all the raging thoughts, and allows me to actually sit down and work in a concentrated fashion.

Sooner or later, though, we all have to just sit with it (literally, in my case.) Sit with it when it sucks. I can do that, right? Yes, I can do that. I can have it suck and just sit with it. I have learned how to do that, and that it is much less painful than going out and drinking to avoid the sitting. What makes it easier, by far, is having someone else–a community, as it were–to sit with me! That’s where you guys come in.

For instance, I’ve realized that even IF I don’t get shit done, and I feel bad about it–like my world is crumbling, like it’s the worst thing ever–when I come here, I am reminded that it SO isn’t that bad. There was something so horrible about being hungover alone; it was better to share the burden once in a while with someone else, not that I did that a lot after my college days. Same is true of this sphere: when I come here with my problems and you sit, we sit, through them; I see that they might not be as bad as I thought. None of you are worrying, or freaking out, or telling me that my thoughts justify drinking, so…maybe they actually don’t? It’s an amazing sounding board.

So, now I feel sick. And, my sports bra is too tight. And my sciatica is acting up. And, obviously, my “illness,” which I would consider the extreme mess of thoughts that race through my head on a constant basis, is in full swing. But, I’m sitting here. With you. And we’re not reacting because there is nothing worth reacting to. Nothing to do but wait. And breathe. And know that this too shall pass. And I am still whole. And something got done, actually–I am stronger. For this, I thank you guys.

Tags: alcoholic, alcoholism, anxiety, binge drinking, community, coping mechanism, coping skills, depression, drinking, frustration, help me carry the load, helplessness, lack of motivation, lack of motivation not drinking, lack of motivation sober, psychology, recovery, sharing the burden, sitting with the craving, sober, sobriety, this too shall pass, triggers, weight of sobriety, wine, women, work

Comments 14 Comments
Categories Addiction, Alcoholism, Anxiety, Binge drinking, Coping mechanisms, Cravings, Depression, Psychology, Recovery, Sobriety, Triggers, Work

The problem with achievement

30 Aug

7:18 pm

I know I should (want to) be posting more often, but with titles like “Sigh” (yes, there’s a draft post in my list titled “Sigh”) I haven’t been able to hit send on any of my drafts, as it were.

Lately, I have to admit, I’m starting to feel like the only one who’s not really having fun at the (sober) party. I’ve also been thinking about drinking again. You know, when I get to 180 days. I’m not jones’ing for a drink, but I can’t help but wonder, Would I feel more like myself again if I inserted that habit back into my life? Would it help to orient me? More importantly, could it help boost my motivation back to some level of normalcy?

I don’t want to say that life sucks right now. For the most part, all is well, and I’m glad for all the things that I get to have by being sober: a clear head, no hangovers, never doing or saying anything destructive. OK, I got it. Good. Thank you.

What isn’t good is my lingering lack of…oomph. I just don’t feel excited about anything. Not the way I used to. The fire feels out, and I don’t know how to re-light it!

It’s hard to explain. It’s not that I don’t have work or hobbies, it’s just that I don’t really *feel* like doing any of them. The way I used to. I don’t feel any sense of achievement after doing almost everything, honestly. Yeah, yeah, it’s done. Can I go back to staring out at the water now? Maybe I don’t have the “huge” sense of accomplishment I once had because I was always hung over, and doing anything with a hangover seems like a Herculean feat. Back then, brushing my teeth felt like I climbed a mountain. And, getting through my work day? Well, I might as well have flown (with my own wings) to the moon. Now, everything I used to do just makes me feel sort of impatient and empty–is this it?

I realize that I used drinking to fill the void of not knowing how to spend my free time. I became reliant on using it when I’d feel that pull I just mentioned, feeling burnt out and “been there-done that.” However, as I was thinking about what to write for today’s post (which included a lot of procrastinating), I realized something: my addiction goes beyond the using of wine. My “core” addiction centers around not knowing how to spend my my time, period, without having something to achieve or accomplish. Which stems from an addiction to achievement.

Whenever I think and believe I haven’t accomplished much, I feel depressed. I feel sad. I feel frustrated. And, I want to drink. Wanted. Want. I want to make those feelings go away, to escape from those thoughts. I can’t just “be.” I need–and that’s the key word–to always be doing something “exciting” or “new.” I need–key word–to always be having something, or acquiring something, and in this scenario, that something is experience. I am, in essence, addicted to getting new things–knowledge, experiences, and maybe sometimes even things, but I’m much less addicted to consuming things as I am experiences. So, I drink to both ease the pain of not getting what I want, what I have come to need; and I drink to get an artificial version of that high.

This is both enlightening and saddening. While it’s good to know that wine is not the be-all, end-all of my addiction, it’s not so good to know that now, I honestly don’t know what’s healthy and what’s not. How much do I don’t do? If I was living my “old” life right now, I’d still be at work. I’d be just as unhappy there, “doing shit,” as I am now, “not doing shit.” And there, my friends, is the essence of the conundrum: there is no solution, at least no fast one, to this so-called problem. I know plenty of people who simply solve this and other existential conundrums with a drink–give it a rest, they’d say. Don’t think too hard on it. Others work harder, have more kids, get involved in others’ lives–you know, live life. My stumbling block is that these thoughts are in my head 98 percent of the time instead of the what I maybe erroneously believe is the “normal” 2 percent.

On that note, I’m not drowning and I still have (a little) hope that I’ll start to feel more excited about doing shit soon. I have found that just continuing to set daily goals and complete them helps. Ignoring the bad thoughts and feelings helps. Going for walks, doing yoga, and running or swimming helps. I have to smirk, in an ironic, God damn it, sort of way, when I think about drinking again. Even if I DID start drinking again, I know that it would not at all help me solve this problem. Other things might, like taking a trip, getting a different job, or moving (at least temporarily). But not drinking. I know too much now. DAMN IT.

Two more weeks until my 6-month mark. Woot woot. (insert sarcastic-wink emoticon here)

Tags: alcoholic, alcoholism, binge drinking, boredom, coping mechanism, coping skills, core addiction, drinking, drinking to fill time, hobbies, lack of motivation, lack of motivation not drinking, lack of motivation sober, motivation, psychology, recovery, sober, sobriety, wine, women

Comments 17 Comments
Categories Addiction, Alcoholism, Binge drinking, Boredom, Coping mechanisms, Hobbies, Psychology, Recovery, Sobriety

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Drunky Drunk Girl

“It wouldn’t be a bad idea if I drank” vs. “It wouldn’t be a good idea if I drank”

Don’t give up before your motivation returns

Why, hello, music, I forgot about you

Nostalgia, not cravings

Learning to let go, or, how to take out the trash

“If I feel this way tomorrow, I’m going to drink”

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Letting others take responsibility for…

The problem with achievement

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