Author: AnonAlcoholic

Friday

Yesterday was my 41^st birthday. At the point in the day when I wrote yesterday’s post, it honestly hadn’t even occurred to me. But my boys and C reminded me quickly enough. And the evening was filled with joyful surprises: the boys singing Happy Birthday in French (!? Apparently they learned at daycare?), C turning off the lights and bringing in a tiny ice cream cake with candles, thoughtful gifts from a new woodworking tool to a lovely book of photography that made me cry, dear friends reaching out with intention – asking questions about how the year went and remarking on specific memories – not just tossing over the obligatory Facebook happy birthday. I feel so incredibly grateful, even undeserving.

What a year it’s been.

At this point last year, I was in such a dark, desperate place. And now, it’s like the light has been turned on, revealing more goodness than I ever knew existed, as well as all the dust and dirt that has accumulated over the years. If this past year was about waking up, I hope this year is about moving forward.

“I hope that in this year to come, you make mistakes. Because if you are making mistakes, then you are making new things, trying new things, learning, living, pushing yourself, changing yourself, changing your world. You’re doing things you’ve never done before, and more importantly, you’re doing something.”
― Neil Gaiman 

 

Thursday

So lately, I’m failing at my goal of holding back and not reacting, especially when it comes to my marriage. I don’t want to beat myself up over it, but I wish I could get a little quicker at catching myself before it happens. It wasn’t until late last night that I realized I’d been reactionary during a disagreement and probably did some damage.

Listening to my audible book today, something hit home.

The author mixes in mini-chapters called Liminal Points, where she does some myth-busting. Today’s Liminal Point was about alcohol giving us courage. In a nutshell, it doesn’t. It numbs our senses so we don’t feel the fear, but in the end it chips away at our confidence and the behavior we may believe to be courageous in the moment is often just stupid.

What I found applicable to my recent failings is the thought that emotions should be listened to. Ignoring our emotions can have negative consequences. In the case of fear, we could even get hurt. With anger, we never get a chance to learn WHY we are feeling angry (the deeper Why, not the surface Why: “She wouldn’t watch TV with me” vs “I felt rejected and hurt”), and then learn to deal with it in healthier ways. Years and years of burying our feelings cause us to become out-of-touch with ourselves. And when you’re out-of-touch with your core self, you’re not able to love that person for who they really are.

It all comes back to love.

“Your task is not to seek for love, but merely to seek and find all the barriers within yourself that you have built against it.” ― Rumi Lara Maurino

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Gratitude Postscript

I’m grateful for this morning’s workout and potential yoga class tonight, and more importantly, I’m grateful for my husband who, so far, has not been reactionary about my angry outburst last night. 

Wednesday

Now that I have my commute back, I’m listening to This Naked Mind on Audible. I like her mix of science, medicine and personal anecdotes.

Although I’m only a few chapters in, her description of the problem with AA’s definition of alcoholics is one I can get behind. It took me years to come to terms with my own issues with alcohol because I was always able to say, “Well, I’m not THAT bad. I’m not like THOSE people. I’m not an alcoholic.” Because to me, alcoholic meant someone who had a genetic or other proclivity toward alcohol abuse, a unique type of person with a “disease” or an “allergy” to alcohol. Someone who was less able to resist the addictive nature of alcohol. And more often than not, someone who had bottomed out because of it.

If someone had explained to me in my 20’s or 30’s the simple notion that alcohol is an extremely addictive substance, and anyone who struggles to control their alcohol intake has a serious issue that needs to be dealt with or they will become an alcoholic, I might have seen the light sooner.

I know for me, it took a large number of signs over the years, big bold blinking “caution” signs in my personal life, and finally my therapist saying to me, “What if I were to tell you that everything you’re struggling with right now can be traced back to alcohol?” for the lightbulb to go off.

And when I realized the truth of her question, I decided to give myself a test. If I couldn’t stick with a reasonable plan to moderate (even tapering back initially to make it easier on myself), I would quit. Turns out, I couldn’t moderate. Not for any length of time. I always found some excuse why this night or that circumstance was exempt, until I was back to the same-old, same-old.

And I could trace the slow increase and dependance over the years.

The idea that only SOME people are prone to alcoholism, that it’s a disease or an allergy, is a dangerous one. Because the truth of it is, anyone can get addicted to alcohol. No one is immune. And it makes it harder for high-functioning heavy drinkers like myself and others I know to admit they have a problem – because, hey, we’re not an alcoholic by society’s standards!

Now, I’m off my soapbox and headed downstairs to read something lighter, then bed.

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Gratitude Postscript

I’m grateful in many more ways than one for my female friends. Today, I’m specifically grateful for two good friends who like to share book recommendations: that I have such strong, intelligent women in my life, that they count me to be a friend, and that we share a love for reading.

Tuesday

Back to work and the regular routine, thank god.

Kids off to daycare, work work work, therapy, work work, dinner, boys’ baths, workout, groceries, mindless Facebook scrolling, now bed. Goal is to be IN BED by 11pm [Edit: I was unsuccessful].

When in doubt, stick to the routine. I was starting to feel lost without ours!

Somehow, over the holidays, I lost a bit of my sobriety mojo. I’m still 100% dry, but I need to get the motivation for mental and physical healthiness back. Hopefully, the routine will give me the mental space to combat the laziness and get back on track.

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Gratitude Postscript

I’m grateful that today’s creative review went better than last week’s. I’m chipping away at a number of freelance projects that had been overwhelming just a couple weeks ago, but small steps are adding up.

President’s Day Monday

In the wee hours of the morning today, an analogy for sobriety came to me as I pondered all I’m seeing in my life now that I seemed unable to see before.

Drinking is like sitting inside with all the blinds drawn, in depressive darkness. You can see some details of life dimly, but it isn’t until you choose to open the blinds that you can see the whole picture. And while the light shining in brings warmth and positivity with it, it also exposes all the dust and hidden messes you’ve been able to avoid in the darkness. The world around you becomes bigger, brighter, and at times, also more overwhelming.

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Gratitude Postscript

I’m grateful for the light, in spite of the overwhelm it brings.

 

Sunday

My folks left this morning after a wonderful buffet breakfast, and 6 hours later have already texted that they made it home. We had a blast catching up last night, looking at pictures of the ski trip and filling each other in on stories of the past week.

I could tell my mom was ready to go home though. She’s a homebody and time together stresses her out as much as it does me. An interesting dynamic happened toward the end. After deciding that I would be vulnerable and honest with her on a number of topics, including parenting and being a mom, it felt like there was less of a struggle on my end. I felt more confident (or just cared less) and was able to be much more cheerful with her, and forgiving of the minor moments where I felt my parenting under critique (“Are you sure you want to let them watch more TV?”).

Although we had our moments, overall this visit with her went better than weeks like this have in the past.

I can see that I have a long way to go before the relationship is where I’d like it to be, but I know that goal is much more attainable without the alcohol.

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Gratitude postscript

Feeling very grateful to have C home, out shopping for dinner and texting me things like “do we have cocktail sauce?” (shrimp appetizer in our future, yummm!). Say what I might about our relationship, we really do have a good thing going.

Non-alcoholic Mojito Recipe

Saturday

We survived the week. Men are back tonight, and the routine will be back next week. I made it by a thread.

But overall, I was grateful for the depth of connection I was able to have with my mom – more than I’ve had in recent years. That connection was painful at times, joyful at times, nourishing in both directions, and hopefully indicates the start of a healthier adult relationship between the two of us.

Now, I’m headed downstairs to hear stories of Switzerland before the men crash – us women not far behind.

Friday

Today was the first day this week where things felt somewhat manageable. All day, I’ve been trying to figure out why that might be. Overall, the boys were easier – more compliant, less willful and disobedient. Maybe they’re finally getting used to having Nana around. Maybe I got a little more sleep last night? Maybe yesterday’s workout endorphins had a delayed effect?

It really doesn’t matter much. I’m just grateful to be getting to the end of the day with capacity for some conversation with my mom, and even a project we’re working on.

Fingers crossed we have another day like this tomorrow – our last day together before the men arrive home and my folks depart.

No thoughts of alcohol today but I will admit that it being Friday night, I am contemplating how to fit in a little weed. We’ll see how that goes.

Thursday

How can one day, one week, contain so much love and joy, and at the same time so much stress, overwhelm, and angst. 

Today was another marathon day. It’s only 8:45pm and I feel like I’ve been hit by a train. How was it that I ever left the house to go work out at this point in the day?! Seriously, I could go to bed now and sleep like the dead.

I have freelance to do but my brain is a complete flatline.

In an effort to make our evening easier, or to do something special, my mom took us out for dinner tonight. We knew it wasn’t going to be “easy” really, but at least we weren’t cooking or cleaning up, right?

By the time we got to the table, that drink menu was CALLIN’ MY NAME. 

I had to turn it over and hide the drinks away. All those icy liquor-based drinks. I thought about the release, the pleasure, how one or two of those would make all of the boys’ annoying behavior laughable and I’d be able to relax, finally. Maybe even have a few laughs with my mom.

But no. Ice water with lemon it was. 

And now, I’m headed downstairs to unplug a bit before calling it a night. Fingers crossed the boys let me sleep through this one.

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Gratitude postscript

I’m grateful the boys’ did pretty well at the restaurant tonight. It could have gone much worse. I do think they’re growing up and learning and improving, in spite of some of the regression I’m seeing this week with Nana around. We didn’t even have to pull out the iPad.

Wednesday

I feel like I’m coming unraveled. This is so much tougher than I thought it would be and I’m trying to figure out why.

I mean, I’ve always had these (very common) issues when my mom comes for a stay – feeling criticized, insecure in my own choices, struggling to relate to her interjections into my life.

But this time around, it’s so much tougher – I’m wondering if it’s because I’m feeling all the feels this time. Not numbing them with alcohol. I don’t know. 

At the end of another day of juggling work, kids, work, kids, mom, kids, work all day long. That in and of itself is not easy – very tough to feel needed in all directions and not have a clear delineation between the work and home responsibilities. Then, adding the layer of my mom, who is trying very hard to be helpful but not imposing, which requires that I find helpful but not overwhelming tasks for her to handle and often provide the instruction along with it (this is how you turn on the grill, this is how you play a DVD for the kids etc)… and all the fine details of how we both relate to each other, the tension we both feel and the desire we both have to relate well without pushing the other’s buttons.

It’s a lot. 

Giving the boys a bath tonight, I started struggling to hold back tears – all because she was encouraging me to consider some decor upgrades to the downstairs living room (she thinks it could use more warmth, had ideas on how to change it, and why do we still need the dog crate there?). I think she opened this conversation because she knows I love to decorate and often don’t get the chance to dream about it because C is usually opposed. So if I had to guess, I’d say she was bringing it up as a favor to me.

But after a 1/2 hour of discussing it with her while trying to simultaneously get two obstinate and tired 4yos upstairs and bathed, I only felt more and more overwhelmed. It was a reminder of how poorly C and I communicate about certain topics (even if I feel like I’m making headway internally), and how much I have been turning a blind eye to around the house (and in our relationship in general), and how far it all has to go, and how discouraged I am with the impossibility that we’ll ever get to a “normal” or healthy place, and then I found myself spiraling down the negative rabbit hole and falling apart inside.

The boys could see it but I pulled myself back from the brink and finished the bath. When I finally turned around to face my mom and head into the bedroom for PJs, the tears were gone.

But it’s tough right now. I’m going to be giving some thought to why it’s so much tougher than normal next week, when life is back to it’s normal rhythm.

If nothing else, this week has made me realize what a good partner C is. We do a pretty solid job of raising these kids and maintaining the day-to-day responsibilities together, even if we can’t decide on paint colors to save our lives. And that’s my gratitude postscript.