60

Today is 60 days of not drinking for me!  Hard to believe I finally was able to put some days together after all this time.  I think I googled "Could I be an alcoholic?" way back in February 2009.  Since then,  there have been many ups and downs, most recently for the better.

I had glimpses of what it would be like to be sober and present.  But there was always something coming up.  Vacations, celebrations, a bottle of wine in the cupboard, I broke a nail...well, you get the picture.

I'm not sure why it's different this time, but I have some opinions.  (one perk of sobriety has allowed me to form opinions and...voice them!).

I tried AA before but I could never really get my head around it.  I felt like it was a bunch of outcaste people who had found a place to be popular, like being allowed to sit at the cool table in the lunchroom.  Because of my superior attitude, I didn't get to know anyone and rolled my eyes a lot in meetings.  I definitely couldn't get into the God thing, since I was so mad at whomever God is, and I had decided he couldn't exist.  So after 89 days 2 years ago, I went back out and never could string many more days together.

In the meantime, my twins were becoming teenagers and had all the demands that teenagers do.  Mainly, a lot of driving to and from school or whatever sport or event they have after school today, but also a greater need for a responsible parent to be really present.  My husband seemed to be slipping into heavy drinking too, which had never been the case before.  I understood; 12 or more hour work days, uncooperative employees, and a wife who wasn't there to empathize, or even listen. So neither one of us was present for them, very often.

I knew all of these things were going on but I didn't feel bad enough to not drink.  In fact, I drank over it.

There were two bottoms.  The first was when I drove the wrong way down a street with my son in the  car and had to bribe him not to tell his dad.  I really don't recall being drunk, but then I never thought I was drunk.  I was the girl who could drink everyone under the table and still drive home.

The other thing was the panic attacks.  I woke up literally every night around 3 p.m. in a panic.  Over big or small things, didn't matter.  Asking God (all the more hopeless because I didn't believe there was a God) what was wrong with me and why couldn't I end this awful cycle.  I mentioned it to my friend who said they told her husband at rehab that this was alcohol withdrawal.  What the...?!  I didn't get sick, I never had tremors...

The last day I drank was at a football playoff party at my neighbors.  I don't think I drank any more than usual, but they are heavy pourers so I probably did drink way too much.
Of course, I had my usual panic attack that night, but this time it didn't go away.  I woke up in the morning from what little sleep I had had, terrified and hopeless.  I couldn't shake it and I couldn't function.  It took the entire day to wear off.  I made my decision that day would be my Day 1.

Of course I had done this dozens of times before, every New Year, every vacation, every time it crossed my mind that perhaps I.drank.too.much.

What's different this time is that I just did what I was told.  I went to AA meetings, like it or not.  I prayed to this God I was mad at, even though I didn't expect results.  I got a sponsor I could relate to, temporarily in case she didn't work out.  I started working the steps.  I joined a 12 step study group.  I started talking to people and getting numbers to call.

Additionally. I got rid of all the wine in my house and stayed away from liquor stores.  I avoided drinking occasions.  I drank a ton of coffee and became addicted to Starbuck lattes.  I became addicted to Netflix.  Ay thing to take my mind off that cold glass of gold pleasure.

Today at 60 days, I feel so peaceful.  My obsession with drinking, finding the next drink, having enough to drink, hiding how much I drank, is gone.  It didn't happen in one day but it happened.  I'm not saying the road will be smooth here on out;  I've been down it before.

But today I feel present for my kids and my husband, connected to the world again, and eager to see another day and what it will bring.  And that's huge.

Happy Birthday to me.

Back In The Day (original post August 21, 2010)

Saturday, August 21, 2010 - cryingoutnow.com

Yesterday was Day 1. Again.

Yesterday was Day 1. Again. I made it through, but all I thought about the entire day was having a drink(s). I intentionally didn't have any wine in the house; I had poured out the small remainder of the third bottle I went through the day before and was determined not to get more. But there is an array of other alcohol in the house I could "enjoy." My drink of preference is wine, but the others are a backup every time I try to stop drinking.

I knew this wasn't going to be easy; it has been a very long time since I didn't drink at least one bottle of wine a day. But there seemed to be so many hurdles. At least that's what it felt like.

I spent the day doing laundry and digging out from the miserable mountain trip that was cut short by a family funeral my DH had to fly off to and my daughter's sniffles and fever that increased her already incredible teenage drama. I organized. I cleaned. I turned on TV and watched a movie about housewives on chrystal meth. I made it to 3:40 PM when I pick up the kids. I was edgy with the kids after school. Their loudness annoyed me. Their cheerfulness annoyed me.  Everything annoyed me.

My neighbor called. She had a dish to return and I needed to borrow some dinner ingredients so I went over. When I went over, the first thing she did was offer up a bottle of red. I told her no; I wasn't drinking today. When was I going to drink again? What about our day at her club this week? Aren't you going to have a cocktail with me? (We never have just one). I told her no, again, and that I had to start somewhere and this was it. I didn't elaborate and she seemed shocked and surprised that I thought I had a problem. We chatted and then I got up and went home.

I finished fixing dinner, fed the kids, and meanwhile my neighbor came over again with her glass of wine. I still didn't drink, but sat on the porch with her making plans for the kids who are out of school this week. When my husband drove up, I am sure he thought I was drinking and was immediately annoyed by her presence. When I went in the house soon after, instead of a greeting, he made a snide comment about how he saw I hadn't unpacked from our trip and went to change, pointedly making a bid deal about unpacking from his trip. (I had unpacked in the laundry room but the suitcases weren't carried up, along with the kids' backpacks I had asked them to carry up a bunch of times.)

Since I WAS ALREADY ON MY LAST NERVE, this really set me off. I SO wanted to pour a drink, any drink.

While he puttered around and pouted and helped himself to a drink, I came to this blog and read and reread all the posts since March. After he changed and ate and spent time with the kids, he realized his error and tried to make amends (no apology but compliments about my day's accomplishments and tried to engage me in conversation). Eventually I snapped out of my funk and we talked a little. No mention of me not drinking or that I was trying, again, to moderate or quit. The dynamics of our relationship is another story for another time, but he is basically an enabler most of the time.

At 10, I went to bed and debated about taking an Ambien. I decided to pass and see if I could get to sleep on my own. Eventually, I did, but sleep was restless and not the retreat I needed.

So here I am this morning, husband gone to work, kids still asleep, with another day to go through. The vacationing kids will be seeking entertainment and engagement, and I will not have a disguised glass of wine in my hand to mellow me. I will try to engage and enjoy them without that crutch today. I will try to be done with the traits you all mentioned, alternating liquor stores, bargaining with myself for just one drink, hiding evidence of any drinking before happy hour, guzzling drinks ahead of time so it looks like I drink moderately...etc, etc, etc.

I will have more hurdles to overcome... a girls' drinking weekend coming up, pending social occasions where everyone drinks and expects me to, family visits...

As with many of the other posters, I have never thought of myself as an alcoholic; surely I can drink in moderation. I was always the designated driver who could hold her liquor the best. What's the big deal about a glass of wine a day? Except now it is at least a bottle. How did I get to this place and how do I get out? For me it will be one excruciating day at a time.

Back Again

It's been 51 days since my last drink.  The obsession to drink has left me, thankfully, and been replaced with my pursuit to be happy, joyous and free.

In the last 51 days, I have been waiting for the promises to happen to me,  Some have, some haven't.  Days are still mundane, my children and husband still get on my nerves, and I still get bored and depressed.  Before, when I was drinking, I remember the mornings when I was sitting in my quiet house deciding what to do for the day, and the moment that came when I just blew the day off and started drinking.  I am not doing that anymore, but there are still mornings where I experience that moment of blowing off the day.  And I can't bring myself to get up and do anything besides surf the internet, watch TV or sleep.  Other days I am manic in my productivity and I feel good about myself and accomplishments at the end of the day.  Is this normal? Is this withdrawal from so many years, months, days of poisoning my body and mind with alcohol?

The good news is that most days I am present.  I am here for my family, contributing physically and emotionally and I know they see a difference.  I am reaching out to others, trying to help other alcoholics, and generally be a good person.  I think about reconnecting with the people I have lost by disconnecting over these past few years while I have been wallowing in self pity, grief, and booze.   How will this happen and will they let me back in?

The other day I was thinking about my parents and how loyal and loved they were to and by so many, many people.  How they were so part of their community and how many people were at each of their funerals to celebrate their lives.  I wonder who will come to mine?  It seems like a morbid thought, but it's not a death wish.  Rather it's an inventory.  What have I done to earn love and respect and how have I contributed?

These are huge questions.  They stem from suddenly being present enough to even think of these things.  

And that's a good thing.