Author: AnonAlcoholic

 

Tuesday

Good therapy session today. Some combination between a great therapist, and being ready for personal change has helped these sessions be really effective. Many ah-ha! moments.

One of today’s less personal ones related to my inability to Be Still. It explains why, of all the items on my list of self-care, sleep and meditation are the two I have yet to actually try with any success.

Once we get through the holiday madness (only two more work days before the packing and wrapping and baking craziness begins, then we float into Nana & Grampy land where everything gets easier for a few days…), that’s my plan in the new year.

Better rest, and a more sincere attempt at learning meditation.

Wish me luck!

Monday

The fun continues today. But rather than bore anyone with the ongoing flu debacle happening around here, I’d rather provide an honest update on my coping mechanisms for quitting.

When I started this process, I had a list of ways I thought I would avoid drinking, and things I’d do to replace the urge. Healthy ways, for the most part. And I’ve reported on a few of them here: exercise, reading, listening to music, working on creative projects.

But as the Amazon Prime packages roll in in time for Christmas, I must admit there are a few not-as-healthy replacements that I’ve been noticing, primarily online shopping and social media addiction.

I’ve excused the shopping with Christmas, and the fact that I’m pulling in time-and-a-half a lot lately for the extra freelance hours. But I can see it’s not a great trend.

And the SM stuff – I always had a weakness for that, but now, I often find myself obsessively, compulsively scrolling Facebook late at night when I KNOW I should be in bed. The same kind of feeling I’d have while making my late evening drinks… I’m gonna regret this, why am I doing this, I know better, every day it’s the same story…

What is it with unhealthy addictions? Guess I have some self-work to do… I’m obviously not getting to the root of the problem yet.

Sunday Funday

The day started well. A trip to Allaire State Park for a taste of Christmas from a simpler time. Met up with good friends and their little boy, so all three boys enjoyed their toddler status by begging cookies and candy off anyone nearby.

This afternoon’s nap gave me an hour to work on the puppet theater while C went to work another gig.

Then it all went south.

W woke up from the nap feeling puny, not his normal self. And after feebly attempting to make playdough ornaments, he promptly got up, went in the other room, and projectile vomited all over the couch, rug, table, himself, and god knows what else I haven’t found yet.

After Friday night’s 3 hour session that I could recall in fresh detail, I buckled in for the long haul. Sure enough, around 3.5 hrs later, he was finally done.

Now they’re in bed, and I’ve resorted to smoking up tonight. God damn, I felt like I’d earned a relax. Laundry’s going, and I’m headed downstairs to finish the last velvet stage curtain.

Feeling the weight of tomorrow’s workload as well as the concerns over W – how to balance family responsibilities with work responsibilities when both weigh so heavily.

Why does it feel like this unwinnable tug-of-war affects us Moms more?

 

Saturday

We survived the night although it wasn’t restful, and survived the day with a few highlights in spite of continued sickness. Fingers crossed the rest of us don’t catch this nasty bug!

Tonight, big C is out at a work gig while I’m playing Santa: putting the finishing paint touches on the puppet theatre and hopefully getting a good start on the velvet curtains.

While there may be a puff or two as “creative support”, I’ll be staying sober.

Friday

Craziest Friday night I’ve had in awhile.

Snow storm turned my commute home into a 2.5-hr drive, and I arrived to find little C was sick and vomiting. It’s 11:30pm now, and I’ve been up for the last 2-3 hrs with him throwing up every few minutes and crying. Now he’s finally sleeping. Glad I was able to be 100% there for him, more than I would have been in the past.

Nowhere better to be…

Thursday

I love watching these numbers pile up. 75 feels like a nice, solid, committed kind of number. And I feel solid about my decision, for so many reasons.

Tonight, and many many nights since I’ve quit, I noticed a difference in the way I feel as I put my boys to bed.

Before, by the time we were tucking them in, I’d have had at least 2-3, maybe 4 drinks. And I’m being generous, as one of those was usually a stiff G&T that probably counted for more like 2-3 drinks in and of itself. Bath time, although fun, would have been stressful for me, as I tried to wrangle the two of them through the process and into pajamas. 

Stories, bathroom break, then lullabies, then bed. All with a clock ticking in my head. Only X minutes until this is done, and I can get back to drinking/relaxing.

The end of the process was always the worst. All the extra requests, Mom, could I have more water? Mom, could you sing another song? Mom, could you snuggle with me? Mom, lay on the couch please? would start to drive me nuts and I’d often lose it and yell, Thats enough! I’m leaving and I’m not coming back!

It almost always ended poorly.

But now? Now, although the process can still be just as exhausting, I find myself connecting more, forgiving more, compromising (without losing control!), and at the end – all those extra requests? I’m there for them.

Those bedtime snuggles are precious now. C has a way he likes to hold my hand as we snuggle. And he always yawns after I lay down with him, as if it helps him relax. W scoots over to make room, and wants me to wrap my arm over him just so. He often falls asleep in the two minutes I lay there with him. And if either of them wants extra snuggle time?

Well, I’ve got nothing better to do.

Let’s Be Still, The Head and the Heart

Wednesday

My head is so congested, I can’t even fit thoughts in there right now. Somehow I powered through a busy work day, and thanks to C’s support, got the kids in bed and am now headed straight there myself.

As I made myself a tea, I thought back to what sickness was like when I was drinking. I knew I had a real problem when even sickness couldn’t keep me from having a drink or two. Before I quit, on a night like tonight, I would have convinced myself that one drink wasn’t all that bad, really – it would make me feel better, right? Then, depending on how strong that one was, I’d often have two or more – and smoke on top of it all.

Going to bed wouldn’t be hard – pop a couple NyQuil (yes, on top of everything else) and hope for the best. It was the getting up part that was the hardest. Nothing like a hangover when you’re sick as a dog.

I knew that at the very least, it wasn’t helping – and most likely, was hurting the recovery time, but I did it anyway.

Amazing what we can avoid confronting even when it’s right there in front of us.

Took me ~3 years of KNOWING I had a problem before I quit.

Tuesday

Processing.

Yesterday was the viewing and wake, today, the memorial. So many people affected, so much sadness and grief spilling over at every turn. 

When we came home last night, I was wrung out. C and I had some good conversation, then I smoked and went out to the garage for therapeutic work on the puppet theatre project while listening to my comfort music, piano nocturnes. 

When we dragged ourselves to bed, together (which never happens), I couldn’t find it in me to post.

But I did stay sober yesterday. I had a virgin Bloody at the bar, and then enjoyed their sushi (!) and apps with water, which honestly was not a problem at all. 

Found myself connecting with friends in a deeper way than I had in the past. And reflecting on it, I’m almost certain that if this had happened a year ago, I would have spent more time concerned about how I was coming across to others than I did actually concerned ABOUT the others. But not now. 

Being in the moment, feeling the pain, seeing it on others faces and reciprocating in empathy, sharing mutual memories and shock that this could happen. All of that was more deeply possible than before.

For that, I’m grateful.

 

Sunday

Wore myself thin today, and not enough sleep last night. My hope is to get better rest tonight for tomorrow’s marathon day.

The viewing is in the afternoon and our friends are meeting at a local restaurant/pub afterwards for a sort of wake. I’m nauseous every time I think about the viewing, and nervous about the setting of the wake. I know I won’t drink, but it’s almost like I won’t know what to do with myself. And everyone else will be drinking, probably heavily.

Maybe I’ll order a virgin Bloody Mary – love those, especially with olives. Although the nausea might keep me from anything other than ginger ale.

Somehow, in spite of this, I also need to get about 10 hrs of work in.

Lots of thoughts swirling in the back of my head, but no time to type them out. Bed is calling.

 

Snowy Saturday

What a full day. Mostly good with some tough moments mixed in. My girlfriend (and her 3yo son) who joins us for gymnastics was a good friend with J as well. So after pushing the boys off to class, we sat and talked. It was helpful just to say things out loud and mull them over with another person who understood.

Then each of us was off to our crazy full, pre-christmas Saturdays. C and I split the boys up and went on errands. I took my little C shopping for presents, and he was surprisingly chipper and compliant. When we got home, our first snowfall was coming down and by the time they woke from naps, it was 3-4″ deep and perfectly sticky.

My workout today was pulling the two of them on the sled all over the yard. Again, mom, again!! And making snowball after snowball for them to throw at me or the other. Even big C joined in briefly.

I was tempted to drink wine at dinner. C made a very delicious, weekend wine-friendly meal – thick-cut sirloin (rare, my favorite), risotto, roasted cauliflower and sautéed mushrooms. Doesn’t a nice red sound perfect with that? And of course, he had one open. But no, tart cherry juice on ice had to do the trick.

Then, after boys went down, I took on the project of stripping the bench I found on Craigslist, in the hopes of turning it into a mini puppet theatre and dress-up storage. My first time stripping, and it was a lot harder and more physical than I’d imagined. I worked my ass off on that for 3 hours and it’s only 1/2 way done. Even ended up running out to the store at 10pm to find more stripper when I ran out (and it was nice to have that option, being sober).

As I worked, and strained, and scrapped away, I realized that it was therapeutic, almost a form of meditation. And I thought about J. I thought about our friends who are affected. How he died. The finality of it. And I channeled the pain into the work.

I’m exhausted now, but it feels good.