Itty Bitty Changes

I’m a bit over 60 days now and have been kind of white knuckling it. I go from feeling encouraged and empowered to dumpy and depressed. I’m still not where I thought I would be by this point. I’m triggered a lot, especially this time of year. Everyone is stressed out, holiday parties (gag), getting Christmas together for the family on top of every day working and mothering crap. I’m uncomfortable, anxious and down a lot of the time. I know I’m not special and lots of people go through this without numbing out but I really needed to whine about it. Thanks for listening.

However, I have changed. They aren’t life changing changes – just little itty bitty one step forward changes. I’m still lazy as hell, but I’m feeling more energy to do small tasks. I have not yet lost any weight, but I’m moving more – especially on the weekends. I’m not eating any better so there is that.

I survived another holiday party last night. It was uncomfortable and awkward, all my insecurities on full display (at least in my mind). I wanted a drink just to feel like I could have a normal conversation. I tried to engage but I just couldn’t. I imagined ripping the drinks out of everyone’s hands and locking myself in a closet with them. I had an escape plan to leave early and I used it.

Had I been drinking I would have felt as if it was helping me interacted better, there would have been no inhibitions until the next day when I would have went through every single discussion and wondered if I offended anyone or said something stupid. Had I been drinking, I would have fully engaged with a woman who was after me for all the personal gossip about friend of mine. Had I been drinking, I would have given in a little, just happy to be part of a conversation. However I wasn’t drinking so I sat in the awkwardness of just staring at her and stumbling through my words desperately trying to change the subject. It was horrible but empowering at the same time. When I left, (more like ran out of there) all I could think about was how I was going to text my friend and tell her how intrusive and awful this woman was. Which is exactly what I would have done had I been drinking, but I was sober and suddenly I began to question my motives. Why ruin her night by telling her someone was all up in her business? I mean was I doing her any favours by giving her this information or was I doing it because I wanted her to know what a good friend I was by shutting it down? What were my actual intentions? And to go a bit further – was the intrusive woman really being vindictive or was she as uncomfortable or as insecure as I was? Maybe she was just trying to find a common ground? The truth is we had all once been friends but do to life things we had drifted apart, so the conversation last night had been weird and forced. 

Anyway the point is walking home and thinking of this I realized after 60+ days that I was finally getting back to recovery. I’m turning a big, long corner. I’m not all the way there but at least I feel like I’m moving in the right direction.

Honestly, I’m not looking forward to the rest of holidays. I’m trying to be positive, but being around all the boozy people is so difficult when you’re sober, ask any designated driver ever. I will need to take it one dinner at a time, remind myself to stay engaged in conversation and not let my mind wander. Check in with my recovery community and make sure I treat myself and have something to look forward to.

Merry Christmas everyone.

 

 

 

Living and Learning

I don’t want to say I fucked up because I’m trying out self-compassion for a change. It’s not easy when you’ve been used to beating yourself on a daily basis forever, but I am paying more attention to how I speak to myself – and it’s pretty brutal I’ll be honest.

I drank. And I’m sure you are saying, “Of course you did…did you even read your last post?” I haven’t binged or gone to the liquor store, I choose to do it in a controlled environment, well except once. I did break my rules, but I also stuck to some very important limits. So not a perfect venture but not a total disaster.

The first came when I went to dinner and a movie with a friend. All the way to the restaurant my inner dialogue went something like this:

“Go ahead if you want to, it will be fine. Just one.”

“Do you really want to just throw away everything you have accomplished so far?”

“You are only there for a quick salad before a movie, there is no time for more than one.”

“Here you go again, you know where this leads.”

“Why can’t you just stop this back and forth. You are normal, stop over-reacting to everything. Have one, be mindful about it.”

“You have been to AA for Christ’s sake!”

By the time we were seated and the waitress came to take our order, I was so worked up and anxious I felt like I was visibly shaking…which doesn’t help when you’re trying NOT to drink.

“I’ll have a Chardonnay.” There is was – just like that.

“Five or eight ounce?”

I paused for so long it got awkward. “Eight.”

I know…it’s more than one drink technically and I’m fooling myself. I get it. But honestly, it was good and it lasted the whole meal. Later at the movies I wondered why on earth I can’t just do that all the time.

Next up, this past Tuesday. I won’t get into it but drama was the theme for the day. By the time I got home I suggested my husband and I go out to dinner. Cooking was not going to happen and if I’m honest – hell, I wanted a drink and since in my head I made a deal that I wouldn’t bring any in the house – out to dinner we went.

Again I ordered an eight ounce and I sipped at it, but the old me was pushing her way through. I was half way through dinner when I noticed my glass was almost empty. In my head I’m thinking I would have another one. A regular sized one. Five ounce only. The waiter came by but didn’t ask – so I didn’t bring it up (score one for me). By the time he did ask I was mostly done dinner so I said no, even though I wanted one badly or at least I think I did.

One the way to the car I took note on how I as feeling. A little tipsy actually. Once I was up and away from the table I was good. I felt satisfied. If I just give myself time to take in the first drink – it might be all I will need.

Cut to last night. The Friday night to start the last long weekend of the summer. Sitting at my desk at work I fought my inner dialogue. Old me wanted to stop and get wine and new me was totally giving into it. After all, this weekend has always been my New Years. I can’t tell you how many journals I have started at this time of year vowing off food and alcohol – writing everyday, yoga, meditation, running…etc. Now I know what I was really doing was setting myself up to fail.

I left the parking lot fully intending on buying that bottle of wine. I was determined, as I have been so many other times in my life to have it last two days. I can do this. But a funny thing happened as I approached the turn off – I thought, “You know if you bring that bottle home you will over do it.” — and I drove right past. I noticed how tense I was, my shoulders, neck and jaw where stiff as rock.

Good for me, right? I did it! Except when I got home the first thing I did was grab one of my husbands beers and drank it. Fast. I meant it was gone in about 5 mins. Then I went to the fridge and got a bottled Ceasar (Canadian Bloody Mary). I brought it outside and that lasted me a bit longer. When I was done, I stopped to think about how I was feeling and knew I was done. Granted if those two drinks would have been wine, I probably would have had another.

I did things to distract myself, walked the dog, looked at flyers, put clothes away. Once I was away from the situation I was fine. I even regretted that Ceasar because I didn’t feel well and really still don’t today. I don’t feel hung over, I feel sick to my stomach.

But I still plan on having wine this weekend. I already have it planned. We have friends coming into town tonight and my husband and I are celebrating our anniversary tomorrow night. The plan is to get go into it with my eyes wide open and really think about what I’m feeling, take a break after one, go find other things to do.

There is a part of me that is really on board with this and then there is the other part of me that says I’m full of shit and just making excuses. Like I said, I’m trying to be more self compassionate so I’m hoping to just do my best and see where it takes me. I’m aware and sometimes that’s the best I can do.

 

 

 

 

 

 

 

 

 

 

 

 

 

 

 

 

 

 

 

 

 

 

 

 

One Week

I have had so many weeks one’s that to me it’s nothing to celebrate. Besides the blistering migraine, exhaustion and epic irritability, it’s been a pretty uneventful week. The good news is I have had no stress or drama to ignite any cravings and for that I am grateful. Besides physical nonsense like the before mentioned migraines, cramps and then the inevitable menstrual cycle (nice timing universe) it’s been smooth sailing. By now I’m a master at handling the physical reprocussions, after all I’ve worked through many a hangover, showed up at work, slept in my car at lunch and when I finally got home –  took care of it with a drink. All better for a couple hours.

Tuesday I managed to walk my ass back into AA. I’m not sure exactly how I feel about it at the moment. Six years ago I attended meeting regularly. I did everything I was told to do, I got a sponsor and worked the steps twice in a year. At first it was a relief just to have a community of people who understood, but after a while the AA speak was getting to me and I found myself taking a step back.

We admit we are powerless over alcohol, and our lives have become unmanageable.

Step one and admitting powerlessness I had a real hard time with. I didn’t like how negative it felt. Now the unmanageability was me all day long. I understood that, but powerless was a challenge for me. Even up until last Monday morning while texting a sober friend who was celebrating 7 years that day, I defended my position. I wanted to be called powerFUL so I could lift myself up to fight the urges.

Cut to 5 hours later when I’m on my way home from work and that same friend was expecting me at a meeting. I fully intended on going and wanted to go. On the way home I thought about the rest of the vodka in the freezer I was supposed to pour out when I got there, (this was my day one after all) except something inside me knew I wasn’t throwing it out. I pulled in the driveway and talked myself into one vodka on the rocks…then I would brush my teeth like a maniac and get to the meeting. So I poured myself a 2.5 ounce shot over ice and went and sat on the front porch with my dog. Now I should have poured the rest out right after pouring my first glass but I didn’t – because deep down I knew I wanted it but I was caught between showing my face at a meeting and wanting to numb myself.

I would be blowing off my friend on her 7th sober birthday to drink vodka on the porch with my dog. It’s an awful thought. Who would do that? Not me. Never would I ever break plans just so I could drink. Remember? I want to be there for her.

I blew it off. It was a conscious decision and at the same time it wasn’t. I didn’t recognize myself, sitting there feeling like a complete asshat (because I was) but doing it anyway because I wanted to drink more. Any chance of me leaving the porch disappeared, and my dignity and self-respect just got up and left me there alone to finished the vodka.

Powerlessness. There it is.

Having been AA trained in the past my guilt would not allow me to keep this to myself. Later I was in touch with my friend and apologized. I told her I get it now, pointing out the irony of me going on about powerlessness earlier in the day and then being schooled by myself to myself. Thankfully she understood (been there, done that) and we had a good laugh at my expense.

The next day I walked into a meeting. I didn’t intend on picking up a desire chip because I had convinced myself a few years ago that they weren’t needed. To truly be sober you need to feel it inside shouldn’t need a coin to validate you. I’ve had a lot of theories.

Anyway, I don’t know what made me do it but I stood up and I took one. Because it was my first time back in a while everyone shared on Step One. I shared my story and by the end I had that same sense of peaceful belonging I had the first time I ever set foot in one of those rooms. I wish I could have recorded all the shares and took them home with me.

Now I’m not saying I’m buying everything they are selling, but I am going to ease myself into it this time. No jumping in with both feet – gonna get them wet first, perhaps that’s better for me. Take what I need and leave the rest my friend said.

Sounds like a plan for now.

 

Sobering Truth #1

Is this the time it’s gonna stick? I quit drinking 4 days ago for it feels like the 100,000 time. If I go back in my journal I started questioning my drinking 14 years ago. I actually managed an entire year of sobriety 6 years ago. A year filled of fear and greatness where I learned how to live differently. I wasn’t overjoyed but life was getting better, things were going well, so you know, why not fuck it up?

Since then I have quit for shorter periods of time but each time has gotten harder and more painful. Right now, I write this with a massive headache I’ve had for two days. I blame it on sinus pain but I’m pretty sure it’s probably my body adjusting. I just got back from a family vacation in which I drank daily and plenty, I was sober for almost 2 weeks before that so I imagine it’s my body saying, “What the hell, woman?”

So what am I doing here now? Well, I’m hoping you will keep me accountable. Which is silly I know because this is my first blog and well, I’m probably the only one reading it – but I just feel I need a space to work it all out privately. I guess I could do that in a journal but I’ve read so many great woman bloggers who say the sober community will lift you up…and, well, you have no idea how much this pains me to say, but I could use some lifting.

I tried before to open up to people in my life, but most don’t get it because I never over did it in front of anyone really. I’m an alone drinker, isolation works best. You can numb the shame, until 3am when you wake up and feel like a loser knowing you did it again even after you promised you would only have one.

I would rarely have more than 3-4 glasses of wine but I would drink those in an hour and half after work. Lately, I would try to hide it as much as possible because I didn’t want my husband or kids to know I was drinking almost daily. I just would keep going to the LCBO (liquor store in Canada) and hate myself – but I would still go. It would be the last time I told myself.

I also started drinking vodka, because, you know…calories, (insert eye roll). I never mixed it. I love vodka martini’s so I would just do vodka on the rocks with a splash of olive juice. 2.5 ounces a pour. Two in an hour. It was my time to wind down I told myself. Unfortunately I’m a fast drinker so sipping drinks never really happened. I tried to distract myself from the fact that technically I just drank 5 drinks before I even started dinner. And I did so because I never drank after dinner throughout the week, THAT would be wrong.

If it was a Friday, I would pick up white, red and vodka because those are my favs and if I am quitting on Monday then I have to say goodbye to all of them. I was quitting every Monday. But then Monday would come, and I would be hungover and come home from work knowing I was going to finish off whatever was left and start on Tuesday. Sometimes I would even get through the rest of the week until that devil of a day Friday rolled around and off I would go again. Rinse. Repeat.

Obviously this kind of behaviour has taken its toll or I wouldn’t be writing or quitting. Perhaps not outwardly in terms of family or job issues (I guess we call that high functioning) BUT inwardly I am a mess. I have depression and anxiety, so drinking is not in my best interest and after 14 years on and off of starting and stopping, things reached a level of darkness that got wicked scary and I just can’t justify it anymore.

No one thinks I have a problem. The bag of empties in my garage begs to differ.