I find myself telling people about my new-found happiness, usually connecting it to my choice to freelance instead of talking about quitting. And really, it’s not all about the alcohol. This process started in February when I made a commitment to do a better job of loving myself. But the quitting has definitely helped. This 9-month process has had numerous beneficial effects, not the least of which is that I feel more self-aware, more mindful especially in situations that would have stressed me out before. Wellbutrin has probably helped as well, and between the two I’m not sure which to credit more, but I’m grateful. It makes this mountain of self-work seem a bit more manageable.
Had a good day at work, connecting well with the teams and the workload, handling things with a pretty even keel. A fellow freelancer, and good friend and copy partner of mine, gave me a gift today to thank me for helping to bring her onboard at this new agency. She knew I liked my G&Ts so of course it’s a very thoughtful bottle of locally distilled gin and craft tonic. My mouth is watering just typing those words. I didn’t have the heart to tell her that I’d quit. The idea that I can’t really even try a sip of this, or don’t want to let myself, is tough – really tough.
Lastly, I had a D’oh moment today when I realized that Kombucha usually has caffeinated tea in it. THAT might have something to do with why I’m struggling to sleep lately! Goddammit I am an idiot. On the whole sleeping thing, I found this interview on NPR to be interesting: a sleep scientist warns about the long-term health effects of not getting enough sleep.
Alcohol … is a sedative drug, and what you’re doing there is simply knocking yourself out. You are removing consciousness quickly from the brain by way of having alcohol, but you’re not putting yourself into naturalistic sleep. The other issue is that alcohol will fragment your sleep — it will litter it and punctuate it with many more awakenings throughout the night, so short … that you tend not to remember them. So, once again, you’re not quite aware of how bad your sleep was when you had alcohol in the system. The final aspect of alcohol is that it is very good at blocking your REM sleep, or your dream sleep, which is critical for aspects of mental health within the brain and emotional restitution too. So alcohol [is a] very misunderstood drug when it comes to sleep — not helpful.
*I believe we are also the only species who overdose themselves on harmful substances on purpose.
Falling Sky – Pixel-sorting experiments, Alban Guerry-Suire
Election Tuesday
Voted. Among the many other things accomplished today, I pushed those buttons and happily participated in civic duty. Outside of the normal day-to-day chaos and busy-ness though, I’ve been feeling quiet and a bit somber lately. A lot going on under the surface, but nothing has floated its way up into consciousness yet.
Tonight, I attended my first sober meeting of a small women’s entrepreneur group I’ve been part of for the last year. I’d missed a few months and was overdue for an accountability check-in with the other ladies… but was a little nervous about the whole not-drinking thing, as it’s held at a bar with a great beer selection. I used to love perusing the draft list and trying a flight, then picking my favorite and having a full pint, all while connecting with the bar staff over the intricacies of the various choices on tap. It was a big part of my evenings out with this group. I also didn’t know exactly what I felt like sharing with these women – friends, but not close.
It worked out well, though. I arrived late enough that my quiet order of a virgin version of one of their fancy cocktails went unnoticed, so I was able to avoid the whole “I’m not drinking” conversation. I’d planned to say I was on antibiotics, but I hate to lie so who knows what I would have blurted out.
Fundamentally though, I’m feeling a shift in my own interaction with the world that goes beyond not drinking. Although in the past I might have felt a real social awkwardness at handling this evening and as a result drank more than was necessary and overshared, tonight I felt centered, confident and happy to keep my business to myself. It was different and not necessarily comfortable, but better than before. And no regrets on the ride home, or feeling like I was in danger of a DUI.
This quiet, seismic-shifting place that I’m in is also not comfortable, but I’m okay with it.
Tonight, this song captured the feeling better than my words. Worth skipping through the ad(s) and listening through the whole thing, imho.
Hanging in there today… didn’t sleep much last night but had a good day at work, ate healthily all day, and worked out tonight. Had one pang earlier when C texted that he had forgotten about not drinking during the week (his idea, not mine – joining me in sobriety during the work week) and had opened a bottle of white to go with the salmon for dinner. Getting that text while commuting home made my mouth and mind salivate.
But I powered through with my workout on the horizon, had a great evening with the boys and flew out the door to the gym.
Now, I’ve got nothing left – am headed to a hot shower and hopefully a good night’s sleep.
Feeling heavy over the news from last night, but better with the Overwhelm today after getting a lot accomplished last night. I have a hangover-esque headache, probably the tail end of this head cold… but in spite of that, boys and I are headed to a bounce house to burn off energy before lunch.
It’s a gray day that needs a little activity to offset the blues.
And in the afternoon, one of those magical days with sunlit fall trees unexpectedly bright against the dark gray-blue sky.
Late PM update:
Still working at 12:34pm and wondering about my ability to relax and just stop working, now that I’m not using alcohol as my OFF button. It’s definitely something I’ve noticed. I’m working longer, doing freelance, household stuff and exercise, then going to bed later than I was (I think?) when I was drinking, and often struggling to turn my brain off.
For some reason, or reasons – of which I could guess a few, today I’ve been in a foul mood. It wasn’t a great night for sleep, but even a nap didn’t fix it. I think it’s the black cloud of a major project that needs to be much further along by now, hanging over my head.
As with any slump, the only way over is through… but hell, the going through part ain’t any fun.
Guess it’s a similar slog to this whole quitting process. Some days, you just need to put your head down and keep on keeping on.
Plans for tonight are to get boys in bed, while C heads to a concert with guy friends, and then buckle down for an evening of freelance. At least it’s a distraction!
Late PM addition
Somewhere between dinner and boys’ bedtime, I learned that a friend had passed away after battling cancer for months. Not a close friend, but almost a sister to my very loved sister-in-law. On receiving this news, I recognized the instantaneous desire for alcohol to numb the pain. It was as if, in that moment, all of my rationale and determination went out the window. A dangerous place to be. But I am letting the emotion in, and have been feeling the pain – appropriately – tonight. I can’t help but empathize – she was a mother of two young children, my age.
Back on the computer now, to work on this project, but am struggling.
Husband’s drinking tempted me a bit tonight. And its the third Friday I’ve smoked as my week end reward. We watched a movie and had popcorn. Overall, not too shabby!
Tomorrow we’re going to a friend’s new house BBQ party, the same group of friends I’ve already told so I’m over that hurdle. Now, just to bring something non-alcoholic and have an exit plan.
I’ve got a book on my desk that is hovering in the periphery, “Twelve Steps and Twelve Disciplines”. And the gist of the first three steps is also floating around in the brain pan. I’m not interested in attending AA, but I do see validity in the program. Not sure I’m ready for figuring out a “Higher Power” yet…I guess this is a process.
This is probably the 5th book I have on my current reading list, which only has one novel. Somehow, I need to find the time but so far, exercise or online activity have been the escapes/replacements.
One common thought I have is that I wish I did this sooner, for my boys especially.
Disclaimer: Not my actual costume, just an approximation for story-telling purposes
Thursday AM thoughts
Headed to a workout session with a friend and personal trainer, in spite of the head cold – I’m determined to kick this day off on a positive note. Also, it’ll be my first workout this week and I’m missing the physical activity! If there is time today, I hope to come back to post some thoughts that have been marinating…
PM thoughts
Back online and feeling much better after this morning’s shot in the arm.
Now that I’ve hit a month, I’m doing a bit of looking back…memories of what I never want to return to, and looking forward…plans for moving ahead in this sober journey. Also, a taking stock of where I am now – what changes I have seen, physically & mentally/emotionally. I know, it’s only a month but forgive me, I tend to be a navel-gazer.
Halloween celebrations brought back a lot of memories (and late nights I didn’t remember). While the bulk of my drinking was done alone in the everyday evenings of the week – and I have plenty of negative memories of those – some of my biggest regrets and heaviest drinking happened at Halloween parties.
I’ve always loved Halloween. Something about the costumes and creativity, the fun of scaring and being scared, the heightened experience of being someone other than yourself. As an adult, this is the holiday I celebrate the most – with large, themed parties all through my 20’s and 30’s, and now in simpler ways, with homemade costumes for myself and the boys. Back in the day, my friends and I would gather together for pre-parties to prepare the decorations and haunted houses, getting drunk the night before the big party… and then, going all out for the party itself.
I remember one Halloween during my serial-dating period where two of my boyfriends showed up due to poor planning on my part, and I was too blazed to handle it. Not that it would have been easy sober either, but being bombed, it was a disaster. I totally pissed them both off and they left. It was messy and confusing, and I only vaguely remembered it the following morning.
At another party in this same period, I had an ex-boyfriend show up unannounced while I was making out with a young basketball player I’d just met, many years my junior – something I never would have done sober. Turns out I was doing this in an indoor-outdoor room in full view of the kitchen, with an audience. The ex, who was also plastered, got upset and holed himself up in the basement. And I managed to make a complete fool of myself in front of the entire party. I remember the basketball player trying to pull my clothes off and stopping him when I finally realized we had 20 people watching us through the kitchen window. The rest of the night is a blur of embarrassment – trying to find my ex because people were being weirded out by his behavior, and navigating this party knowing that most of the attendees had seen my ass.
Another drunky Halloween memory, although they all tend to blur together, is of the night where I dressed as Helena Handbasket and my friend dressed as a Freudian Slip. We rocked the party, and I remember going from drink to drink to drink. The bar G&T’s were never quite strong enough so they went down like water, and a few were offered by men, like the Sperm Donor (omg seriously) who I was repulsed by but wouldn’t turn down a free drink. The nice thing was, they didn’t count against my free drink coupons so I could drink even more! I remember feeling completely fine and then suddenly I was wasted. I tried going to the bathroom but my costume was difficult to maneuver and I fell all over the nasty dirty floor near the toilet… I just hoped no one noticed, and tried to “collect” myself after getting out of the stall, with other women giving me the side-eye.
The tail end of the night was a complete mess, stumbling to the car – my friend helping me along in my uber-high heels, kicking them off in the car and then passing out on the way home. No idea how I got to bed but the next morning, I felt like a truck had hit me. After running to the bathroom to vomit, I noticed that I had a false eyelash stuck to my forehead, makeup all over, still half-in and half-out of my basket costume, fishnets all torn and half off. The worst part was, I had no idea what kind of embarrassing mess I had been around my friends and C’s coworkers toward the end of the night.
The more common memories I have of drinking are the instant relief of a strong G&T at the end of the day, leading into the euphoric moment (which got shorter and shorter the more I drank) later in the evening where I was usually glued to the couch with a hand in a bag of snacks, watching stupid TV or scrolling my phone. Then, feeling compelled to have that “one last drink” I knew I’d regret and stumbling to bed, late at night, trying to fit a shower in so I didn’t need to deal with it the next day but falling and making lots of noise in the bathroom. Fumbling through the motions of brushing teeth and getting pajamas on. I’d try to drink a ton of water before bed and sometimes pop a few Advil although I knew it wasn’t good for my liver. Liver concerns always seemed to crop up at the tail end of the night.
If I got lucky, the boys wouldn’t show up in the middle of the night but still, the next morning would arrive like a bomb – way before I was ready. The effort it took to drag myself out of bed to handle the boy’s energy and needs was Herculean. I could barely open my eyes to get to the pre-brewed coffee (set up the night before so I didn’t need to deal), and it wasn’t until that first cup was down that I could handle the rest of the morning. Always feeling extremely dehydrated, I would often pound a glass of water too, to help my brain unstick from the side of my head.
The morning rush to get boys dressed, breakfast – or some semblance of breakfast – into their growing bodies, teeth brushed, myself pulled together, and daycare necessities all out the door ON TIME is always frenetic and strenuous, but adding a hangover made it miserable. So many mornings, yelling at the boys, feeling completely overwhelmed – in tears at daycare drop-off, feeling super sick while rushing rushing rushing… I knew the alcohol wasn’t helping, but now, with it gone, it’s incredible HOW much easier it is. I had no idea how much I was handicapping myself! Not just in the morning rush, but in the day-to-day functioning.
This was a long post, but I wanted to record a few of the memories I have of drinking. Even though I was never a gutter drunk, didn’t get a DUI (thank god! I’m sure I deserved one many times), didn’t get into bar fights or lose significant others because of my behavior, I know that my drinking was out of my control, and that was enough for me to know I had a problem.
I’m grateful to be on the other side, looking back, and hope to remain there.
Phoning it in again tonight. Feeling super sick and actually, surprisingly enough, have been struggling today. I think it’s just the doldrums of being sick but I’ve been feeling down about never having a drink again. And Despair has been reaching its insidious fingers into my brain, saying “You’re just on a high right now, don’t worry – you’ll get low again soon… all this exercising, eating right and not drinking? You’ll fall on your face and go right back to the old behaviors. This isn’t sustainable.”
Well, fuck Despair. I’m going to bed, gonna kick this cold in the ass, and wake up to a better perspective tomorrow.
