Tag Archives: sense of purpose

Too much thinkin’ about drinkin’, says Drunky Drunk Girl!

31 Oct

5:29 pm

And, I suppose that’s better than thinkin’ AND drinkin’.

I don’t know about all this constant thinking — ruminating, actually — on drinking. Since I’ve quit, begun this blog, and started going to AA meetings, all I do is think about drinking! Sure, I don’t drink, but I still think about it. In fact, what’s the point of quitting if you have to continually THINK about it?

I’ve been somewhat overwhelmed by my thoughts the past few days, so I feel all a’jumble today. BUT, I wanted to say howdy and try to share a few of those thoughts, at least (warning: long post ahead).

On a positive note, I picked a sponsor today. Well, “picked” might be stretching it. It was sort of a random choice, and now I’m regretting it. I might hit up another woman, whom I feel more of a connection with and who goes to more meetings with me than the other (stranger) woman. I think I just got caught up in the moment this morning; or, I was impatient and wanted to stop sitting on the fence and JUST DO IT. In any case, she gave me some “official” reading material, and if there’s one thing I’m good at — besides overthinking — it’s reading material.

Anyway, based of some of the topics and shares at the past few AA meetings I’ve been to, I’ve been thinking about the following:

1. Bondage to self, or self-centeredness. It was a topic at one of the meetings, like many of these next points. My question remains: Where does self-centeredness end and self-effacement begin? Which is more or less healthy, and for me, a trigger? I am surely selfish and self-centered like the rest, but sometimes (maybe 50% at least), I drank to make myself numb to my doormat qualities, my inability to stand up for what I truly want, and my insecurity (I don’t feel like I deserve that what I truly want). I think some people drink more as the result of one versus the other, and in meetings, it seems that everyone who shares drank because they were selfish bastards. I don’t think my primary motivating factor was to be a selfish bastard, to party, to get high; I think it was to self-medicate.

2. Drinking to get drunk versus drinking to self-medicate. In meetings, it seems that a LOT of folks, especially the older men, drank to drink. To get drunk, to avoid their lives and problems and emotional blocks, whatever. I drank a lot of the time to feel better in my head. Sure, I drank to zone out, but I also drank to feel less static in my brain, to improve my mood, to make me feel like life was spectacular and not existentially ridiculous, to have something to look forward to because at that moment — in those moments — I don’t feel like doing or thinking or being anything. And then I feel bad (see point 1 above) about wasting time, and I feel even worse. But, it’s a particular need to not lubricate, but mend something inside. An existential rip in the seam of life, as it were. Now, I see that maybe I need not only a huge sense of purpose, but antidepressants. Endorphins of the highest order. Cookies and cake and loads of caffeine are not cutting it, I’m sorry.

3. Doing too little versus having an overwhelming sense of purpose and doing too much/what I “should;” unable to relax. Me, the latter, as you can guess. I am task-oriented, so it helps me to not drink if I have an 18-hour day planned. That’s why [cold east coast city] was so good for me. YET…isn’t that worse? Is being a workaholic better or worse for you than being an alcoholic? I’ve reconciled my need to “scratch that itch” with my desire to drink; I am what I am, and if my definition of “fun” and “productive” are unusually severe, then so be it. There is that work-life balance thing, though, which I never quite got, and am not sure I ever will. It’s very difficult for me to relax, to “not be productive.” I’m sure it is for many people, but they don’t consider it a problem. Is it, if it makes you feel uber-good about life?

4. Thinking yourself out of drinking versus giving your will “over” to a “higher power.” CONTRARY to what I assumed after going to all these meetings, everyone (based on today’s meeting) is like me in that they, too, have to think through it in order to convince themselves not to drink when they want to. I found this confusing, relative to what AA says, which is to give it up to “God.” If all y’all are rationalizing your urges away, then where does direct intervention and taking away of obsession by a higher power come in?

(I found it astonishing that quite a few people in AA said their cravings/urges/obsession disappeared almost immediately. You must not be drinkin’ red wine, is all I can think to say.)

5. AA meetings make me want to drink. And, someone said today: The only time I actually think about drinking anymore is when I’m here, at a meeting! Tell it, brotha.

6. “God” is what happens, what occurs, between and among other beings, whether human or animals. It’s not an outside force, per se, but something that comes from within and that is born through relating to and realtionships with other living creatures, including plants. WE are god, individually and collectively. Maybe I’ve just done a step here? 😉

Sometimes I think this whole thing is just overblown. Sure, I did some bad shit, but it’s grapes, people. Just grapes. Then again, I know that a sense of purpose is what saves me, that getting outside my head helps me, that staying in the moment through journaling and working and doing things like running and playing guitar improves my sense of belonging in the world. I know that swimming among massive swells at a local beach makes me feel strangely connected to a deep, abiding “aliveness,” that being a body of water which is large and ancient and powerful beyond what I can imagine — and that makes me feel, ironically, calm and safe and protected from myself, from my small ego.

Sometimes I want to conclude that I am a binge drinker who is depressed/obsessed by existential crises (choices, work versus play, meaning of life, death). Does that mean I need to work the steps and continue to ruminate, lifelong, on a problem? Can’t I simply solve it (don’t drink)? Then again, if I’m truly honest — and feeling good about life, which generally speaking, I have been since June 13th — I can see how those steps can only help me move forward. They can only help, if I’m humble and embrace them without my ego and mindedness getting in the way. And, then again again, DOES IT REALLY MATTER WHAT YOU “ARE” IF BEING SOBER, EVEN IF IT TAKES WORK, MAKES YOU FEEL BETTER AND MAKES YOUR LIFE BETTER? I would have to say, an obvious no.

And, dun dun dun: 21 days as of tomorrow! And, while I’ve thought about drinking a glass of wine, I really haven’t wanted to. Like, I haven’t felt like it. I feel calmer in the face of everything — work, moving, relationship, existential nonsense — that made me feel like drinking before. I feel calmer and more apt to say, Nah, instead of, OMG, YES. I don’t want to gloat, though, so I’ll sign off for now.

Here’s to all my sober buddies in the blogosphere — thanks to you all for being my support group and sounding board.

Falling off the wagon..so YOU DON’T HAVE TO

21 Sep

2:31 pm

For real. The only good that can come of falling off (where art thou, sparkle-toothed unicorn?) the wagon A THIRD TIME is so that you, my dear readers and friends, don’t have to.

DON’T GO THERE. DRINKING SOLVES NOTHING. IT IS A TRICK OF THE MIND. IT IS A WASTE OF TIME. YOU DON’T NEED IT AND IT TASTES LIKE MOUTHWASH.

I think I just felt overwhelmed by my cravings, the voice in my head, and the resisting. I felt tired of resisting. So, I hurriedly uncorked a bottle and drank it. All of it. I was barely remembering things (didn’t take much, which is scary — what is wrong with my brain if it only takes three (huge) glasses of red wine to black me out?) when I ran (literally, I’m guessing) to the corner store to buy another. I did not finish that one, mainly because I must have passed out. I don’t remember.

Ahh. LOVELY hangover. Yes, I remember this feeling. Oh, yes. Drinking two Diet Cokes and weeping about my upcoming death. I remember this feeling. Stumbling around, finding a demolished pair of (expensive) glasses on the floor, checking my wallet to make sure that nothing’s missing, seeing wine stains on my floor and table. Yes, I remember this! Crawling to the bathroom only to heave myself back to bed. Yes. Ringing bells? Oh, yes. Crouching over my stove as I make ramen, forcing it down because I know I need something in there but nothing fills the hole and nothing will the entire day. Check. Crying some more and whining and wailing on the phone to my boyfriend who, thankfully, thinks nothing less of me and even thinks I deserve better. Yup. MISSING my fucking deadline because I can barely think, let alone write what I need to write. Done and done.

Do you remember that feeling? Is it coming back? Oh, yes.

I don’t even care about the fact that I missed my second 5 weeks (would have been 35 days today) again. What bothers me most is that my brain is simply depressed — not even sad, just void of feeling or thoughts. And, all I want is for the day — and hangover — to be over with. Waiting it out is all and will be all I’ll be doing today.

Wow, drinking really fucks up my mental landscape. What was a lovely painting with serene (pink) clouds has now become a grey wash of confusion, suicidal ideation, and nonsense. ? WTF, drinking?

(And, why do I have a memory of the corner store owner standing next to me, helping me pick out my wine? Was I standing there, in my druken stupor, unable to do it myself? Or, was he just being friendly and helpful? NO IDEA.)

Key points of this latest round?

I realize now that I don’t need to go it alone, that I DO NEED HELP, and that I need to ask for it.

I realize now that I shouldn’t isolate myself to the point of mental breakdown.

I realize now that what I wanted last night was escape — from the obsession to drink, I think, more than the overwhelming thoughts and feelings about life and people, in general.

I realize now that I USE WINE to escape and that one, I need new coping mechanisms, two, wine is my vehicle/tool, and three, there really shouldn’t be anything to “escape from,” if I’m doing it right.

I need help. But first, I need to get through this hangover.

Readers, if you’re thinking of falling off, just come here and read this. I have done it for you so that you don’t have to! It’s like riding a bike — no, it’s like falling off. It hurts every time and the feeling is never different! FUCK THAT BIKE! STAY ON THE WAGON.

Packing and moving and a cold…iced tea

8 Sep

9:04 pm

Or, in my case, DC (Diet Coke).

I had a much better day today, and thought MUCH less about drinking than yesterday. Staying strong, kids, no matter what. If I can get through nights like last night, where the only thing between me and wine is sheer willpower, then I feel like the worst is behind me. I can do it, no matter how listless I feel.

Btw, does anyone else have a sense of “whew, that’s done” with the passing of every sober day? I hate to see days go, but I do feel like every day makes the next easier — overall. So, bring ’em fast, and bring ’em hard, cuz I want this shit to get easier!

Anyway, I sold a few big pieces of furniture today, prepared a few more things for sale tomorrow, and ran errands. I also received a few important pieces of mail — still not sure how long I have to stay here in order to fulfill my UI obligations, but it sounds like I can pay a prorated daily rate on my studio if I have to change my move-out date. What a relief. Oh, and my super fixed my toilet. All in all, lookin’ good on the domestic front.

Tonight, I’m not thinkin’ about drinkin’. I’m not letting myself. I’m thinking about future writing projects, new goals, things I’d like to try (visual/physical art — I’ve had a few ideas for some “installation” art and would love to try my hand at basic painting)… I’ll probably do laundry (I’m selling a rug tomorrow and I have to at least try and wash the wine stains from earlier this year out), bake cookies, and read. Kuh-razy Saturday night, eh?

Tomorrow, I’m showing a few more items for sale and going to see my eye doctor to get fit for contacts — all before noon. And, I KNOW I won’t be late or miss these appointments. Why? This right here, my friends.

It’s good to be sober!

Another day, another day sober. Meh.

7 Sep

11:29 pm

I’m probably going to bring y’all down, but so be it.

I’m bored. And lonely. And, well, kind of feeling like I always did before I drank. Which makes me huff and puff to myself, What’s the point of this sobriety thing if I feel the same as when I was drinking?

Like I said in a previous post, the improved mood is subtle. VERY subtle. I want to feel BETTER, awesome, amazing. It’s been almost 90 days (minus 2), and honestly, I don’t feel that much different. I feel sober. ALL THE TIME. 😦

Sure, I’m not hung over and overall, I feel a lot healthier and calmer. The problem I have is, I still think about drinking all day, every day. I still think, Can I drink today, what if I drank today, can I, huh, huh, huh? Please, just one glass? Even if I KNOW I’m not going to drink, have committed to not drinking, these obsessive and incessant thoughts are like the wash on the canvas of my brain. And, I feel restless — not as much, but still restless. Frustrated. Something’s missing. Something HUGE is missing, is how I feel all day, every day. Wine used to quench that fire, which was burning for nothing. Now the fire burns for nothing all day, every day.

It could be that I haven’t truly changed my life. At all. Before, I was going to work at a job I hated, a job that didn’t provide me with any personal satisfaction or sense of creative or professional accomplishment. It ate my soul. Now? I still do the same kind of work, albeit a little less aggravating and a little more fun (science editing instead of technical writing), just from home.

Maybe what I need is a new project, something that I can finally dig my teeth into (like, a book, or a fast-paced reporting job)? Sometimes I think I need a career change. A complete 180 from writing and editing. Something to do with my day that doesn’t seem like just a way to avoid drinking, or pass the time, or strive to improve myself. Pretty much every hobby I have revolves around self-improvement: running, yoga, playing guitar, reading, watching movies that expand my mind. ARG. I need something bigger and different from what I’ve known for 15 years, something that drives me, makes me actually WANT to get out of bed and go to sleep so I can get up and get out of bed to do it again tomorrow. I don’t have that anymore. And, I really have no idea what to do to get it back.

THIS has been a huge part of my descent into becoming a wino: I don’t have a sense of purpose that makes sense to ME, that fills me, so therefore, I have nothing. And, I drink to fill that hole. I panic in trying to find it. I drink to subdue that fear. Maybe I won’t find it? Maybe nothing ever will be as fulfilling — or exciting — as it used to be in my 20s and early 30s? Maybe this is just life?

I often have a feeling of been there, done that these days. Well, it’s been growing since about 33 or 34. And, I HAVE BEEN around and done a lot. I feel like I’ve seriously hit a plateau; there is nothing new under the sun. Ultimately, I’m not sure I have anything left to truly look forward to. That’s not to say that I don’t love life; of course, I do. Deep down, we all do because it’s all we know, life. Yet, the things I think I might really (of course, it’s always got to be “really”) look forward to — volunteering in Africa is one that pops into my head — scare me. Does it have to be such an all-or-nothing life, though? Stay here and rot, or scare myself to death? I need new goals, sure, but I also need to find new ways to enjoy life here and now. This can’t be how it’s going to be forever, otherwise I will drink again.

On top of it all, I flipped a homeless dude off today. It’s downright upsetting living here sometimes. I get so tired of walking around this town, shoulders clenched against the wind, gut protected from the homeless hot messes around EVERY CORNER. Upsetting is an understatement. Traumatizing is more like it! I’ve been called everything from bitch, to whore, slut, cunt, and you-should-be-raped…by complete strangers just walking down the street. Granted, they’re all addicts and/or mental cases, but still…it GETS TO YOU. Yup, it was my mistake to move downtown, but I had no other choice at the time. It’s really hard for me to feel empowered in my own sobriety when I am cowering, in a sense, protecting myself against the mental and emotional drain that is what seems an ENTIRE FUCKING CITY IN RECOVERY.

Yep, I really want to drink tonight.

Another day, another day sober. Meh. I hate to say it, but at least I’m not them, or in their shoes. I mean, most of the addicts I run into here — crack, coke, oxy, heroin, all of the above — are beyond help. Like, I used to think that everyone could be helped, but…these people are like the walking dead. So, I really hate to think this, but I do: I’m glad I’m turning my addiction around before I end up spending entire days, and not just nights, wandering around in the cold, talking to myself in an altered state of stupor.

Peace and love, y’all.

The Broken Specs

Here's To Express.. :)

swennyandcherblog

One family's journey to longterm recovery from alcoholism

ainsobriety

Trying to ace sober living

absorbing peace

my walk away from alcohol

soberisland

recovery from booze, a shitty father and an eating disorder

Violet Tempest

Dark Urban Fantasy & Gothic Horror

Ditching the Wine

Getting myself sober; the ups and downs

The Sober Experiment

Start your journey of self discovery

Sober and Well

Live your best life free from alcohol

Shelfie Book Reviews

The Honest Reviews of a Chaotic Mood Reader

cuprunnethover

Filling my Cup with What Matters

winesoakedramblings - the blog of Vickie van Dyke

because the drunken pen writes the sober heart ...

I love my new life!

Changing my life to be the best me. My midlife journey into sobriety, passions and simple living/downshifting.

Sunbeam Sobriety

Just a normal lass from Yorkshire and her journey into happy sobriety

runningfromwine

Welcome to my journey to end my addiction to wine!

Without the whine

Exploring the heart of what matters most

My Sober Glow Journey

Join the Sober Glow Sisterhood — where sober living meets self-love.”

New Beginnings

My Journey to Staying Sober.

Sober Yogi

My journey to wholeness

'Nomorebeer'

A sobriety blog started in 2019

A Spiritual Evolution

Alcoholism recovery in light of a Near Death Experience

No Wine I'm Fine

An alcoholfree journey in New Zealand with a twist

Untipsyteacher

I am a retired teacher who quit drinking and found happiness! After going deaf, I now have two cochlear implants!

Life Beyond Booze

The joys, benefits and challenges of living alcohol free

Functioningguzzler

In reality I was barely functioning at all - life begins with sobriety.

Mental Health @ Home

A safe place to talk openly about mental health & illness

Faded Jeans Living

By Dwight Hyde

Moderately Sober

Finding my contented self the sober way

Sober Courage

From liquid courage to Sober Courage

Musings Of A Crazy Cat Lady

The personal and professional ramblings of a supposedly middle aged crazy cat lady

Life in the Hot Lane

The Bumpy Road of Life as a Woman 45+

Wake up!

Operation Get A Life

doctorgettingsober

A psychiatrist blogging about her own demons and trying to deal with them sober

Storm in a Wine Glass

I used to drink and now I don't

Off-Dry

I got sober. Life got big.

Dorothy Recovers

An evolving tale of a new life in recovery

Lose 'da Booze

MY Journey towards Losing 'da Booze Voice within and regaining self-control

Laurie Works

MA., NCC, RYT, Somatic Witch

Drunky Drunk Girl

A blog about getting sober

The Soberist Blog

a life in progress ... sans alcohol

soberjessie

Getting sober to be a better mother, wife, and friend

mentalrollercoaster

the musings and reflections of one person's mental amusement park

TRUDGING THROUGH THE FIRE

-Postcards from The Cauldron

Guitars and Life

Blog about life by a music obsessed middle aged recovering alcoholic from South East England