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.
Well I had plans to write a deep post about the masks we all wear, and how alcohol plays a part. But then I had an absolutely wonderful, chaotic, crazy, candy-filled evening.
Right now my head is ringing with little boy giggles, my heart is warm with the company of good friends, I’m still laughing at my husband’s costume and the fact that he wore it all around our neighborhood (although I will preserve his dignity by not mentioning it here), and it’s all Enough. In the best possible way.
The deep thoughts will have to wait until tomorrow.
It’s worth mentioning though, that today marks Month 1 for me. And I ordered my first stacking ring to celebrate. It feels like I have a long road ahead but the changes I see, both current and potential, are all positive.
Nothing like a simultaneous head cold and stomach virus to help you forget you ever wanted a drink. Alcohol is the last thing I want right now. A bath, a book, and bedtime is more like it. But there is laundry to fold, halloween daycare snacks to prep, lunches to make, and then… maybe a long hot shower.
Working on a Halloween themed post for tomorrow. But for today, I got nothin’.
Procrastinating right now. I really should be building a website, but I’m here instead to record a story from last night.
At the end of the night, my main emotion was elation at staying away from the booze without too much effort. But, as I’m realizing is common, the emotions of the night weren’t that easy to deal with. I may be doing a good job of ignoring alcohol, but I’m struggling to ignore or deal with the raw emotions that apparently come when you subtract that numbing device. I’m realizing that maybe that argument at the wedding was spurred on by my own internal struggles at being in the romantic environment of a wedding when our own marriage is struggling. If I’d been drinking, I’m sure I wouldn’t have reacted the same way. Those raw, rough emotions would have been buried and I would have been in a much more pleasant state of mind.
Similarly, last night I struggled a bit. One of my plans to distract myself was to take time to have tarot cards read by someone they hire every year. I didn’t give her a lot of information – just something like “I’m interested in my own self-development over the next year” but the cards I pulled all told a story of cutting ties with an important person and being better off without them. I don’t believe in that kind of thing but it did leave me thinking. As I drove home, I passed a sign at a church that read “Before seeds can be planted, the ground must be tilled” and it felt a fitting explanation of where I’m at currently.
I feel like my life is being turned over and around and mixed and torn apart in a good way. Of course this is all happening internally, but it does affect those around me. While the tarot cards predicted an end to our relationship, I am choosing to believe that the destruction I am feeling internally is a sign of positive change and opportunity for new growth to happen. Hopefully this occurs within our marriage as well as inside me.
But first, I must work on myself – with my many flaws and baggage and emotional immaturity and then, maybe a year or two down the road, when I’m over the grief and newness of giving up alcohol, I may be ready to work on our marriage. Now, if only I could stick to that.
I guess I could start by not procrastinating anymore and getting back to work… baby steps.
I did it! I made it through today. Quite proud of myself. And maybe this is a pink cloud talking but it wasn’t that hard! I really honestly had just as much fun at the party as I would have if I were drinking – and was able to get in and out cleanly, without leaving behind awkward drunken conversations that I didn’t remember, or did and regretted, without falling asleep on the car ride home or not remembering HOW I got home and waking up the next morning with half my costume still on, without driving drunk or buzzed, and with my dignity and self-respect intact.
I went, I saw, I conquered. Woohoo!!!
Today was super packed, starting with boys’ commitments through the morning and afternoon, halloween costume prep for them and myself in between, then a rush to get them in bed before the sitter arrived so I could race out to the party. By that point, I was feeling rather haggard and didn’t even want to go. But the sitter arrived and I didn’t want to send her home. Plus, I’d been up to midnight last night making my mask and I wasn’t going to waste that dammit.
So I powered through, with my plan, and did everything I intended to: ate from the tasty buffet, scared some people, got my tarot cards read, chatted up a bunch of C’s coworkers, primarily his boss and boss’s wife (put in a better impression than previous years I’m sure!), took a pictures of the best handmade costumes – of which there were quite a few, had a seltzer and cranberry, and danced my ass off until my mask broke. All in all, quite a successful night.
And now I’m exhausted and headed to bed. Thank god there won’t be a hangover tomorrow.
Yet again, almost midnight and I haven’t posted. Not a good week for sleep! Tonight’s excuse was building halloween costumes with the husband, *mostly* sober (I smoked pot, he drank a couple beers and a bourbon). He’d been joining me in sobriety all week (Tues, Wed, Thurs) and was quite proud of himself. And we had a good time together tonight which was a pleasant surprise after the past week!
The voice in my head urging me to drink was less Despair as it was an annoying drunk friend, trying to push shots on you at the end of the night when you’re over it.
Tomorrow is a busy day of gymnastics, birthday party with the boys, then more halloween prep, then our big adult halloween party that C and I attend every year. Well, he MC’s it – and I show up by myself to putz around, usually drink heavily, dance and get my fortune read, while circulating the bar many many times. Sometimes I bring a friend, but I didn’t plan well enough this year.
So, tomorrow night will be me – alone – at a boozy party with not much to do. Hmmm not easy. I’ve made a mask that covers my whole face and would be impossible to drink through, and although I’ll take it off to eat and get my fortune read, it’ll be at least one barrier between me and the bar. The plan is to eat at the big buffet spread, then find a few coworkers of C’s that I know and catch up with them. Get a good look at all the costumes, maybe take a few pictures, do some dancing… and make an early exit.
Working from home today and was able to mix my usual workload with a lot of sober community interactions and a visit to the Bubble Hour podcast to listen to one of my new AFFs (alcohol free friends haha), Alison’s interview. Nice to unabashedly multi-task! I’ve even found a group of sober advertising execs in the area to hang with, SEAM.
As I come up on a month, I find myself reflecting on the changes I’ve noticed since quitting. Although it might be premature to draw any conclusions, one of the things that has been surprising to discover is that life is easier.
Don’t get me wrong, this has been tough. Really tough. I’m still hanging on for dear life – needing to have a solid plan every evening and an iron-clad plan for the weekends. I’m working out more than our family schedule easily allows, and I’m avoiding my husband in the evenings just to scrape by. I’ve had headaches during happy hour for the first few weeks. I am still struggling to calm down at the end of the night, and put myself to bed before midnight. My online spending has jumped (since I deserve rewards, right?) and I’m sure I’ve spent the same amount on fancy AF drinks as I did before on alcohol. All the emotional baggage of my marriage and my own personal insecurities and issues have been tough to deal with and I see a long road ahead in the area of self-discovery and improvement.
But it’s become easier to cope. Nothing has changed – the stresses of normal life, the ups and downs, the demand of a job and family are all there but I am coping better. I’m not second-guessing myself anymore, and I feel calmer, less reactive.
My self-confidence is increasing and I feel more fully present, mentally and emotionally, both at home and at work. And I’m enjoying this feeling so much I’m starting to examine what other things I do that erode my self-confidence. Now that I recognize what that feels like (in it’s absence), I am noticing activities and choices I make that chip away at my self-respect.
And adding them to the list of things I need to work on. At least now, tackling these issues seems managable.
Late PM update:
Just wanted to record this memory – an example of connection… Today at dinner, while one of my sons and I sat still finishing our dinners after the others had left, he turned to me and made a funny head-shaking, fist-making, exertion face to be goofy. Not unusual, but I picked up on it and repeated it, exaggerating a bit more. He laughed, I laughed. This game repeated itself about 20x, each time getting more exaggerated and hilarious for both of us, until we were almost peeing our pants and he said “I got to go to the bathroom!” and ran off. I had tears of laughter streaming down and realized it was one of the most connected moments I’ve had with this son in a long time. Grateful for special moments like these, and for the ability to notice and remember them. And grateful I’m discovering this now, in time to capture this beautiful time in our lives.
Today was another busy day, but throughout the busy-ness I had a number of thoughts marinating. Not sure any of them are quite fully processed yet so I’m saving some nuggets for future sharing when they’re a little more complete.
But for the sake of putting pen to paper or fingers to keyboard, tonight – I’ll share one. This thought has been bubbling to the surface for awhile now: the idea of “faking it until you make it”.
Words and actions have the power to bring about transformation, even when we aren’t truly “feeling it”.
My Valentine’s Day decision to love myself the way I wanted to be loved led to a number of personal goals for 2017 which have all been transformative. I have a Post-It note hanging off my computer that I read almost daily with the list of goals, among them more self-love, more exercise & outdoors, less alcohol/pot, invest in friendships, therapy, more sleep, more of what I love – music, travel, woodworking etc.
And I’ve done most of them, more or less. After one of the many times my therapist told me that I need to love myself first, I asked her in frustration, HOW? How do I love myself? How can I validate myself? How can I be enough?
Tough questions, but I think I’m beginning to find one answer.
Just by ACTING as though I love myself, I am feeling more love for myself.
