My mom and I have never had a great relationship. It was better when I was younger, but only because I still thought all the issues were my fault back then. I was in college when I first realized that she was not a normal mom. That other mothers didn't act the way she did. That other people my age did not emotionally parent their parents.
That reality blew my socks off. I didn't know what to do about it. I ended up in therapy but no matter how many tips and strategies a therapist gave me for creating and maintaining boundaries with her, I eventually would grow weary and give up.
Then when I was 28, I had enough. She got mad at the man I was married to at the time (illogically so, in my opinion), and showed up at my work, repeatedly calling my cell and office phone to demand I meet her in the parking lot. When I finally came down, she was red with rage and screamed nonsense at me. I supported my husband's actions, which infuriated her further. She stormed off telling me to call her when my priorities were straight. I knew that would never happen and painfully washed my hands of her at that moment.
Thus began a year of no contact and though life was not perfect at that time, I was happier than I had been in a long time. I knew during this time she was telling everyone in the family how horrible I was (humilation has always been her favorite method of keeping me in line), so I just avoided my entire family. Again, not a bad time in my life. I learned a lot about who I was, discovered that I actually liked who I was and without my mother making everything all about her, I realized aspects of my life (like my marriage and career) that needed changing.
It all came to a halt when an uncle stepped in. Without me in the picture, my mother was springing her infamous unannounced visits on others. Not that she hasn't always done this, but she typically would be at my house longer and more often, which meant her appearances at his home were spread further apart. He tried appealing to my soft spot, giving me the "your mom misses you and if you'd let go of your selfish pride, you'd realize you miss her too." When I stood my ground that I was happier and saner without her, he laid it out -- my mother was driving a wedge in his marriage and he wanted it to stop. I caved, thought I could reestablish a healthy relationship with my mother and made content.
Six years later, some things are better but most aren't. The big challenge now is that my mother has alienated all of her siblings so she only has me and a couple of friends. She's now unemployed and is the victim of her own poor planning. And I now have a child, meaning that the decisions I make about my mother don't just affect me but my daughter's relationship with her as well.
All of which combines to make me feel trapped in this relationship with her, one I hate and feel powerless to change.
Monday, December 31, 2012
Sunday, December 30, 2012
No Amount of Liquor....
I had a grim realization on Christmas. There is no amount of alcohol in the world that can make me tolerate my mother. Laugh, if you want, but it's true.
I don't like her, and I think if she had the emotional maturity to be self-aware, she'd admit that she doesn't like me either.
We are complete opposites. She sits back and laments life happening to her, and the raw deal she's gotten from life. I go out and make life happen. I get knocked down -- a lot. But I always get back up and keep moving forward. She takes no responsibility for her actions or her decisions. It's almost as if she's allergic to self-awareness. I, on the other hand, operat like the general manager of the universe, constantly trying to figure out what I can personally do to effect change.
On Christmas Eve, I would have paid my husband to go out and get wine. He even offered (he still seems clueless that his wife is an alcoholic). On Christmas Eve as I was cooking our entire family meal on my own while my mother made comments here and there (some biting, some benign), I really thought about wine. How much wine would I have to drink to be content during one of her visits? The current visit was five days. Would five bottles be enough? Nope. That's only 4 glasses of wine a day, enough to keep a happy buzz for most of the day but not enough to let her words and mannerisms fly overhead. Would 10 bottles be enough -- 2 bottles a day? Definitely enough to keep me stupid drunk throughout her visit, but I'd still have moments of sobriety when she could say something that stung or annoyed. Would a case of wine -- 12 bottles -- do it? Maybe, but I'd be useless to the rest of the family -- unable to plan and execute meals or do the things with my husband and daughter that I loved. I would have no memory of her visit, but I'd also have no memory of five consecutive days. That wouldn't work.
So, my fianl answer is none. There is no amount of alcohol that would enable me to tolerate my mom without suffering unbearable consequences. Huh. What am I supposed to do with that information?
I don't like her, and I think if she had the emotional maturity to be self-aware, she'd admit that she doesn't like me either.
We are complete opposites. She sits back and laments life happening to her, and the raw deal she's gotten from life. I go out and make life happen. I get knocked down -- a lot. But I always get back up and keep moving forward. She takes no responsibility for her actions or her decisions. It's almost as if she's allergic to self-awareness. I, on the other hand, operat like the general manager of the universe, constantly trying to figure out what I can personally do to effect change.
On Christmas Eve, I would have paid my husband to go out and get wine. He even offered (he still seems clueless that his wife is an alcoholic). On Christmas Eve as I was cooking our entire family meal on my own while my mother made comments here and there (some biting, some benign), I really thought about wine. How much wine would I have to drink to be content during one of her visits? The current visit was five days. Would five bottles be enough? Nope. That's only 4 glasses of wine a day, enough to keep a happy buzz for most of the day but not enough to let her words and mannerisms fly overhead. Would 10 bottles be enough -- 2 bottles a day? Definitely enough to keep me stupid drunk throughout her visit, but I'd still have moments of sobriety when she could say something that stung or annoyed. Would a case of wine -- 12 bottles -- do it? Maybe, but I'd be useless to the rest of the family -- unable to plan and execute meals or do the things with my husband and daughter that I loved. I would have no memory of her visit, but I'd also have no memory of five consecutive days. That wouldn't work.
So, my fianl answer is none. There is no amount of alcohol that would enable me to tolerate my mom without suffering unbearable consequences. Huh. What am I supposed to do with that information?
Saturday, December 29, 2012
Angry All the Time
I'm typically a merry ray of sunshine for all whom I encounter, except since I quit drinking. Especially since Christmas, I've been cranky, irritable and easily angered. Just about everything sets me off. In some situations, I'm justified in my ire. But it's not like me to get angry -- even when justified. I'm nice, diplomatic, calm.
I don't know who the mercurial bitch is that currently inhabits my body or where she came from, but I am exhausted by my constant state of unhappiness.
I don't know who the mercurial bitch is that currently inhabits my body or where she came from, but I am exhausted by my constant state of unhappiness.
Friday, December 28, 2012
Not Your Average Drunk
I haven't done any writing over the past couple of weeks but I've done a lot of thinking. Reading the stories of other alcoholics has made it harder for me to accept the idea that I am among them.
Recently, I've heard tales of women leaving infants/toddlers home alone while they run to the liquor store, drunken-driving with kids in the car, agressive/abusive behavior toward children or spouses, women who drink a bottle or bottles of hard liquor/wine/whatever daily in secret or out in the open. None of these stories are mine. None of them resonnate with me. All they do is make me feel more isolated and confused.
Does the fact that I'm not doing these things mean I am not an alcoholic? Does the fact that I have never been a daily drinker mean I don't have a drinking problem? Does the fact that my drinking has only been out of control for the past two years mean that I'm not an alcoholic?
I don't know. Some days, I think it does. I read these stories and am almost giddy at the idea that if those actions define alcoholism, then I am most definitely not an alcoholic. But then I think back to something a therapist once told me: Alcoholism is not defined by what you drink or how often you drink; it's about what you do when you're drinking and how you feel afterward.
We were discussing my ex-husband's drunken antics at the time, and his refusal to take responsibility for anything done or said while intoxicated. Same therapist also defined a drinking problem as occurring when you or those close to you have a problem with what happens while you're drinking. She'd say, "If you or those you know think you might have a drinking problem, you probably do."
She was blunt; I always liked that about her. And I've carried those words with me for over a decade. Those words have been on repeat in my brain for the last year or so as I've wondered if my drinking had entered the "problem" category.
I have never been a daily drinker. I don't have the money, the free time or the ability to buy and consume alcohol on a daily basis. At this point in my life, even cheap wine has to be in the budget in order to be a possibility. And there's really only enough disposable income to justify one night out a month so it's not like I am the queen of the bars.
But when I do drink, I drink a lot. I drink until the booze runs out or I fall asleep. If I buy a bottle of wine, I usually drink the entire bottle of wine that day or evening. The next day, I find myself craving more wine and lamenting that I guzzled it all the night before. That's why I think I have a problem. Maybe I do, maybe I don't. I read online somewhere that when entering recovery, you should strive to find similarities with fellow alcoholics/addicts instead of differences. That's where I am at now, reading the horror stories and trying to see how that could be me -- if not now, in the future if I continue on my path.
I'm not your average drunk, and I'm starting to realize that nobody else is either. We are all individuals with one thing in common -- we like to crawl into a bottle of something as a way to cope or escape -- and we've all discovered that commonality is an unhealthy one.
Recently, I've heard tales of women leaving infants/toddlers home alone while they run to the liquor store, drunken-driving with kids in the car, agressive/abusive behavior toward children or spouses, women who drink a bottle or bottles of hard liquor/wine/whatever daily in secret or out in the open. None of these stories are mine. None of them resonnate with me. All they do is make me feel more isolated and confused.
Does the fact that I'm not doing these things mean I am not an alcoholic? Does the fact that I have never been a daily drinker mean I don't have a drinking problem? Does the fact that my drinking has only been out of control for the past two years mean that I'm not an alcoholic?
I don't know. Some days, I think it does. I read these stories and am almost giddy at the idea that if those actions define alcoholism, then I am most definitely not an alcoholic. But then I think back to something a therapist once told me: Alcoholism is not defined by what you drink or how often you drink; it's about what you do when you're drinking and how you feel afterward.
We were discussing my ex-husband's drunken antics at the time, and his refusal to take responsibility for anything done or said while intoxicated. Same therapist also defined a drinking problem as occurring when you or those close to you have a problem with what happens while you're drinking. She'd say, "If you or those you know think you might have a drinking problem, you probably do."
She was blunt; I always liked that about her. And I've carried those words with me for over a decade. Those words have been on repeat in my brain for the last year or so as I've wondered if my drinking had entered the "problem" category.
I have never been a daily drinker. I don't have the money, the free time or the ability to buy and consume alcohol on a daily basis. At this point in my life, even cheap wine has to be in the budget in order to be a possibility. And there's really only enough disposable income to justify one night out a month so it's not like I am the queen of the bars.
But when I do drink, I drink a lot. I drink until the booze runs out or I fall asleep. If I buy a bottle of wine, I usually drink the entire bottle of wine that day or evening. The next day, I find myself craving more wine and lamenting that I guzzled it all the night before. That's why I think I have a problem. Maybe I do, maybe I don't. I read online somewhere that when entering recovery, you should strive to find similarities with fellow alcoholics/addicts instead of differences. That's where I am at now, reading the horror stories and trying to see how that could be me -- if not now, in the future if I continue on my path.
I'm not your average drunk, and I'm starting to realize that nobody else is either. We are all individuals with one thing in common -- we like to crawl into a bottle of something as a way to cope or escape -- and we've all discovered that commonality is an unhealthy one.
Sunday, December 16, 2012
The Trouble with Wine
The following is my response to a message board post questioning why when it comes to female alcoholics that wine is the drink of choice.
1. Wine is the great equalizer -- With the exception of some fundamentalist
religions, wine is socially acceptable among almost all classes and cultures.
Conservative Christians are OK with the consumption of wine; Catholics are OK
with the consumption of wine; educators don't want to be seen in a dive bar
downing shots, but a 4-hour wine train tour is appropriate and deserved (after
all, those teachers spend their days with bratty kids, don't they?).
2. Wine is an ingredient -- Wine goes in pot roast, shrimp scampi, pasta sauce,
etc. Nobody bats and eyelash when you open up a bottle of wine at 8 a.m. to pour
some into the crock pot for that night's dinner -- and they also don't seem to
notice if you pour the rest of it in a coffee traveler to sip while doing your
morning chores. Likewise, nobody seems to mind if you're making a 5 p.m. dinner
that includes wine and sipping/gulping from a glass while you do it.
3. Wine is "cool" -- Thanks to television, books and gourmet magazines, wine
carries a level of prestige that other forms of alcohol don't. In major cities,
you can find vodka/tequila/bourbon tastings but not easily. I live in a podunk
little town in the armpit of my state, and even we have a tasting room and three
wine bars. There are 6 wineries within a one-hour drive of me.
4. Wine is easy to drink -- No carbonation, no burning sensation, no need for
mixer. If you can find a wine you like, you can guzzle glass after glass.
5. Wine is an easy drunk -- With 12%-14% alcohol, a glass of wine packs a harder
punch than most beers. And the faster you drink it, the faster it hits you.
Personally, I'm amazed by the power of wine. I joined a Christian moms support
group after my daughter was born because I didn't want to be a "drunk mommy." I
had read and written stories of women who became alcoholics after having
children. I knew it was a danger. What I found was that women can be insanely
busy juggling their roles as wife, mom and (sometimes) professional...but many
will drop everything to have some "wine and whine" time with the girls either
after the kids go to bed or even during an afternoon playdate. I tried joining a
book club but discovered after the second meeting that the book was really just
an excuse for five women to split four bottles of wine once a month without
their husbands judging them. On Sunday, I was invited to a Drunk & Crafty social
at another member's house -- bring an unfinished craft and a bottle of wine.
That was an easy invitation to decline. I'm not even crafty while sober; get me
drunk and I'd probably stab myself with a knitting needle.
And in my opinion, a woman's consumption of wine is easily dismissed by the
medical community. When my daughter was 1, I had a check-up. Doc asked how I was
doing. I said I was mostly OK but feared I might be drinking a little too much
wine. She asked how much, a glass a day or a bottle a day? My response: More
like a bottle a week but sometimes only spread out over a couple of days. She
laughed and said, "Honey, that's called motherhood. We take our pleasures where
we can get them."
Obviously, the "why" doesn't matter. I'm always trying to analyze that question
in my head but the truth is that we share a common problem. We may be the only
ones in our peer groups who know we have a problem, but it doesn't mean we are
the only ones with a problem.
1. Wine is the great equalizer -- With the exception of some fundamentalist
religions, wine is socially acceptable among almost all classes and cultures.
Conservative Christians are OK with the consumption of wine; Catholics are OK
with the consumption of wine; educators don't want to be seen in a dive bar
downing shots, but a 4-hour wine train tour is appropriate and deserved (after
all, those teachers spend their days with bratty kids, don't they?).
2. Wine is an ingredient -- Wine goes in pot roast, shrimp scampi, pasta sauce,
etc. Nobody bats and eyelash when you open up a bottle of wine at 8 a.m. to pour
some into the crock pot for that night's dinner -- and they also don't seem to
notice if you pour the rest of it in a coffee traveler to sip while doing your
morning chores. Likewise, nobody seems to mind if you're making a 5 p.m. dinner
that includes wine and sipping/gulping from a glass while you do it.
3. Wine is "cool" -- Thanks to television, books and gourmet magazines, wine
carries a level of prestige that other forms of alcohol don't. In major cities,
you can find vodka/tequila/bourbon tastings but not easily. I live in a podunk
little town in the armpit of my state, and even we have a tasting room and three
wine bars. There are 6 wineries within a one-hour drive of me.
4. Wine is easy to drink -- No carbonation, no burning sensation, no need for
mixer. If you can find a wine you like, you can guzzle glass after glass.
5. Wine is an easy drunk -- With 12%-14% alcohol, a glass of wine packs a harder
punch than most beers. And the faster you drink it, the faster it hits you.
Personally, I'm amazed by the power of wine. I joined a Christian moms support
group after my daughter was born because I didn't want to be a "drunk mommy." I
had read and written stories of women who became alcoholics after having
children. I knew it was a danger. What I found was that women can be insanely
busy juggling their roles as wife, mom and (sometimes) professional...but many
will drop everything to have some "wine and whine" time with the girls either
after the kids go to bed or even during an afternoon playdate. I tried joining a
book club but discovered after the second meeting that the book was really just
an excuse for five women to split four bottles of wine once a month without
their husbands judging them. On Sunday, I was invited to a Drunk & Crafty social
at another member's house -- bring an unfinished craft and a bottle of wine.
That was an easy invitation to decline. I'm not even crafty while sober; get me
drunk and I'd probably stab myself with a knitting needle.
And in my opinion, a woman's consumption of wine is easily dismissed by the
medical community. When my daughter was 1, I had a check-up. Doc asked how I was
doing. I said I was mostly OK but feared I might be drinking a little too much
wine. She asked how much, a glass a day or a bottle a day? My response: More
like a bottle a week but sometimes only spread out over a couple of days. She
laughed and said, "Honey, that's called motherhood. We take our pleasures where
we can get them."
Obviously, the "why" doesn't matter. I'm always trying to analyze that question
in my head but the truth is that we share a common problem. We may be the only
ones in our peer groups who know we have a problem, but it doesn't mean we are
the only ones with a problem.
Saturday, December 15, 2012
I Did it!
I wasn't sure if I could, but I made it through last night's holiday party without taking a single drink!
The accomplishment feels huge, even though today makes only one week since my last drink. I mentally prepared for the party, walked through it in my head and knew I didn't want to drink but I still wasn't sure if I could do it.
Saying no was only hard for about the first 30 minutes when the bar was the only open area. The food wasn't ready; just a handful of people had arrived, and the bartender seemed quite bored. For a moment, I almost ordered a drink just to see what would happen. But then I realized that neither of the feature cocktails appealed to me, and the wine scared me. Seriously, there was a enough wine there to fill a bathtub and it was being served in plastic punch cups. Better to not even begin.
During the party, I observed others and found it interesting. I wasn't the only one not drinking. There were women who were pregnant and a handful of LDS women. Ten women boasted that they were dropped off by a sober driver and would be picked up later. Each had two drinks in her hand the entire night. One asked for her phone to be confiscated. Apparently, she got so drunk at last year's party that she shared some embarassing photos on Facebook and did a lot of drunk-dialing. Everyone else was just normal. They had a drink or two, ate some food and mingled. No big deal.
I drank water -- lots of it. And I returned home sober and able to do the things I had postponed earlier in the day.
The accomplishment feels huge, even though today makes only one week since my last drink. I mentally prepared for the party, walked through it in my head and knew I didn't want to drink but I still wasn't sure if I could do it.
Saying no was only hard for about the first 30 minutes when the bar was the only open area. The food wasn't ready; just a handful of people had arrived, and the bartender seemed quite bored. For a moment, I almost ordered a drink just to see what would happen. But then I realized that neither of the feature cocktails appealed to me, and the wine scared me. Seriously, there was a enough wine there to fill a bathtub and it was being served in plastic punch cups. Better to not even begin.
During the party, I observed others and found it interesting. I wasn't the only one not drinking. There were women who were pregnant and a handful of LDS women. Ten women boasted that they were dropped off by a sober driver and would be picked up later. Each had two drinks in her hand the entire night. One asked for her phone to be confiscated. Apparently, she got so drunk at last year's party that she shared some embarassing photos on Facebook and did a lot of drunk-dialing. Everyone else was just normal. They had a drink or two, ate some food and mingled. No big deal.
I drank water -- lots of it. And I returned home sober and able to do the things I had postponed earlier in the day.
Friday, December 14, 2012
Made it Through
Despite cravings and fears, I made it through last night sober. I ate just about everything in sight at the party, came home with a tummy ache, put a movie on and cuddled with my daughter on the couch until we both fell asleep.
I woke up with hubby standing over us taking pictures on his cell phone. At ease with him home, I went to bed with almost not even a "good night." I slept a bit better. Still up every 90 minutes or so but at least I could fall back asleep easily.
My stomach is still tender but I don't care.
Tonight is the big challenge: Holiday Booze Fest 2012. Well, it's labeled as an innocent ornament exchange. And it's the talk of the town. I finally made it on the invite list last year -- FINALLY! But I couldn't go. This year, I was invited and among the first to RSVP.
It wasn't until yesterday that I discovered the actual exchange is not why the party is the talk of the town. It's because the party hosts hire a private bartender who mixes up dreamy concoctions at the open bar. The hosts provide cab service and the party doesn't stop until 2 a.m.
I'm set to go with a friend. She's driving. She also works at 8 a.m. tomorrow. I'm hoping we'll be out of there by 10 p.m. and my plan is for us to be sober -- I think I'll just eat everything in sight like I did last night.
I woke up with hubby standing over us taking pictures on his cell phone. At ease with him home, I went to bed with almost not even a "good night." I slept a bit better. Still up every 90 minutes or so but at least I could fall back asleep easily.
My stomach is still tender but I don't care.
Tonight is the big challenge: Holiday Booze Fest 2012. Well, it's labeled as an innocent ornament exchange. And it's the talk of the town. I finally made it on the invite list last year -- FINALLY! But I couldn't go. This year, I was invited and among the first to RSVP.
It wasn't until yesterday that I discovered the actual exchange is not why the party is the talk of the town. It's because the party hosts hire a private bartender who mixes up dreamy concoctions at the open bar. The hosts provide cab service and the party doesn't stop until 2 a.m.
I'm set to go with a friend. She's driving. She also works at 8 a.m. tomorrow. I'm hoping we'll be out of there by 10 p.m. and my plan is for us to be sober -- I think I'll just eat everything in sight like I did last night.
Thursday, December 13, 2012
Beer-Thirty?
It's 4:36 p.m. and I want a mother fucking drink. Seriously. I have visualized the sheer bliss of cracking open one of my husband's beers all day. All.damn.day.
So what if beer isn't my thing? Who cares that carbonation makes me sick? There is beer in my house, and I think drinking it will solve all my problems.
How much do I suck? Seriously...It hasn't even been a week since my last drink and I'm like a nymphomaniac on an island with no men, women or sex toys -- just a tree branch, and the branch is starting to look good.
Tonight scares me. I can't even pretend it doesn't. My sitter leaves at 5. My little one and I head out to a booze-free holiday party at 5:30. We'll be home by 8:30. Daddy will be at work until midnight. From now to 8:30, I have it handled. But what about 8:31 to midnight?
That's when I'll be confronted with the million-and-one things that haven't been done while I was working today: The dirty dishes, the meal planning, the holiday meal planning, the baking, the cleaning. And then juggling that with bath time, cuddle time and bed time. Never enough hours in the day but it all goes by so much faster when I have a drink in my hand.
So what if beer isn't my thing? Who cares that carbonation makes me sick? There is beer in my house, and I think drinking it will solve all my problems.
How much do I suck? Seriously...It hasn't even been a week since my last drink and I'm like a nymphomaniac on an island with no men, women or sex toys -- just a tree branch, and the branch is starting to look good.
Tonight scares me. I can't even pretend it doesn't. My sitter leaves at 5. My little one and I head out to a booze-free holiday party at 5:30. We'll be home by 8:30. Daddy will be at work until midnight. From now to 8:30, I have it handled. But what about 8:31 to midnight?
That's when I'll be confronted with the million-and-one things that haven't been done while I was working today: The dirty dishes, the meal planning, the holiday meal planning, the baking, the cleaning. And then juggling that with bath time, cuddle time and bed time. Never enough hours in the day but it all goes by so much faster when I have a drink in my hand.
Day 5
The devil on my shoulder has been loud lately. I thought about drinking all day yesterday. When I was making a cup of coffee yesterday, I thought of how much better it would taste with a little brandy or whiskey. When someone handed me a 7-Up at work yesterday, I took it (I don't drink carbonated beverages) and drank the whole thing wishing I had some Seagram's 7 at home. I went to a party with a friend last night, and when I arrived at her place, she was sipping on a glass of wine while getting ready. I white-knuckled my Starbucks peppermint tea that I brought and didn't ask her to share the wealth.
The party we were attending was booze-free as expected, but it was hard to concentrate on the fun. I just wanted a drink. To top it off, I was so exhausted from my nights of not sleeping that I couldn't help but think a little nightcap would be perfect.
As much as I wanted to stick around for wine and whine time with my friend when we got back to her place, I had my husband meet me there so I didn't even walk in her house. I apologized for running off and used the excuse of us both needing to work today. I came home cranky and fatigued from my day of emotional wars.
I went to bed sober. That's my win for the day.
The party we were attending was booze-free as expected, but it was hard to concentrate on the fun. I just wanted a drink. To top it off, I was so exhausted from my nights of not sleeping that I couldn't help but think a little nightcap would be perfect.
As much as I wanted to stick around for wine and whine time with my friend when we got back to her place, I had my husband meet me there so I didn't even walk in her house. I apologized for running off and used the excuse of us both needing to work today. I came home cranky and fatigued from my day of emotional wars.
I went to bed sober. That's my win for the day.
Wednesday, December 12, 2012
Hard and Harder
Yesterday was hard. Today feels hard. Four days of sobriety and I am exhausted, grumpy and frustrated. I almost did a "What the hell?" last night and dipped into my husband's beer stash in the garage.
I'm trying to figure out why last night was so difficult. It didn't turn out as planned. But life does that, I suppose. I was supposed to go to an event after work and decided to cancel because I wanted to spend time with my family. I thought we could decorate the tree, have dinner together and watch a movie.
My husband, it turns out, had a killer headache. I sent him to bed at 7, which meant it was just my daugher and me for the rest of the evening -- and that is when my urge to drink is strongest. I decided not to cook anything elaborate since I so love to drink while cooking. I rocked her while watching episode after episode of "Angelina Ballerina" on Netflix. Shoot me know.
In between the rocking and the sweet "I love yous" she says when we cuddle, I thought about that beer in the garage. Beer is not my trigger. I don't like carbonated alcohol, never really have. Finishing a full beer takes me over an hour, but it was calling me.
I was frustrated the night hadn't turned out as planned. Frustrated that my husband has debilitating headache after headache for what feels like the better part of the last three years. Now that we're managing his diabetes, his blood pressure and his moods with prescription medication, he's supposed to feel great. But he never does. We rarely spend time as a couple cultivating our relationship or even as a family with our daughter. If all three of us are home at the same time, either I go to bed early or he does -- and the other one ends up all night solo with our daughter.
Last night wasn't awful. My daughter was amenable to going to bed at 9:30 so long as she could sleep with me. We love having her in our bed so she was fast asleep before 10, as was I. Then I was up at 11, 11:30, 1:30, 3, and finally at 5 when I gave up that whole sleep thing and decided to go online.
So today is Day 4, and I'm tired and grumpy. I have a full day at the office and then a holiday party. And then it's bed so I can do it all over again tomorrow. This sucks.
I'm trying to figure out why last night was so difficult. It didn't turn out as planned. But life does that, I suppose. I was supposed to go to an event after work and decided to cancel because I wanted to spend time with my family. I thought we could decorate the tree, have dinner together and watch a movie.
My husband, it turns out, had a killer headache. I sent him to bed at 7, which meant it was just my daugher and me for the rest of the evening -- and that is when my urge to drink is strongest. I decided not to cook anything elaborate since I so love to drink while cooking. I rocked her while watching episode after episode of "Angelina Ballerina" on Netflix. Shoot me know.
In between the rocking and the sweet "I love yous" she says when we cuddle, I thought about that beer in the garage. Beer is not my trigger. I don't like carbonated alcohol, never really have. Finishing a full beer takes me over an hour, but it was calling me.
I was frustrated the night hadn't turned out as planned. Frustrated that my husband has debilitating headache after headache for what feels like the better part of the last three years. Now that we're managing his diabetes, his blood pressure and his moods with prescription medication, he's supposed to feel great. But he never does. We rarely spend time as a couple cultivating our relationship or even as a family with our daughter. If all three of us are home at the same time, either I go to bed early or he does -- and the other one ends up all night solo with our daughter.
Last night wasn't awful. My daughter was amenable to going to bed at 9:30 so long as she could sleep with me. We love having her in our bed so she was fast asleep before 10, as was I. Then I was up at 11, 11:30, 1:30, 3, and finally at 5 when I gave up that whole sleep thing and decided to go online.
So today is Day 4, and I'm tired and grumpy. I have a full day at the office and then a holiday party. And then it's bed so I can do it all over again tomorrow. This sucks.
Tuesday, December 11, 2012
Day 3-Busy Week
I kicked off my week of insanity last night. I have a holiday-related event every single night this week. No time for rest, no time to breathe. Heck, I'm not even sure if I'll have time to decorate for Christmas. Next year, that task needs to be on Black Friday just to ensure it happens!
I made it through yesterday without a drink. It was offered but I managed to hold my tongue and not echo the "hell yeahs" the other moms responded to the suggestion of Bailey's spiked coffee.
Came home to sleeping little one and a difficult conversation with my husband. I'm trying to resolve an argument we had a week ago. Unfortunately, he started taking Lexapro a week ago, and he just couldn't focus on the topic. So, I went to bed frustrated and emotionally exhausted. I kept thinking that a glass of wine would make me so much more patient, that it would make the conversation so much easier to tolerate.
In the end, I went to bed sober and had yet another miserable night of sleep. That's one of the problems I'm facing in early sobriety. I can't sleep for shit. Irritating, and it doesn't make me very nice in the morning.
Today, I'm fueling up on coffee. No more of this quitting all vices at once. Right now, I'll focus on alcohol. Coffee can go away later.
I'll be gone late again tonight, but this time, the event I'm attending is guaranteed alcohol-free. I have a holiday party on Wednesday; no clue what's being served. I might just take tea with me. Thursday night is another booze-free party. Friday night's party will have more booze than food so I need to figure out a plan for that. And then Saturday I'll be facing the same scenario.
Just need to stay strong and focus on today.
I made it through yesterday without a drink. It was offered but I managed to hold my tongue and not echo the "hell yeahs" the other moms responded to the suggestion of Bailey's spiked coffee.
Came home to sleeping little one and a difficult conversation with my husband. I'm trying to resolve an argument we had a week ago. Unfortunately, he started taking Lexapro a week ago, and he just couldn't focus on the topic. So, I went to bed frustrated and emotionally exhausted. I kept thinking that a glass of wine would make me so much more patient, that it would make the conversation so much easier to tolerate.
In the end, I went to bed sober and had yet another miserable night of sleep. That's one of the problems I'm facing in early sobriety. I can't sleep for shit. Irritating, and it doesn't make me very nice in the morning.
Today, I'm fueling up on coffee. No more of this quitting all vices at once. Right now, I'll focus on alcohol. Coffee can go away later.
I'll be gone late again tonight, but this time, the event I'm attending is guaranteed alcohol-free. I have a holiday party on Wednesday; no clue what's being served. I might just take tea with me. Thursday night is another booze-free party. Friday night's party will have more booze than food so I need to figure out a plan for that. And then Saturday I'll be facing the same scenario.
Just need to stay strong and focus on today.
Monday, December 10, 2012
Not Your Average Drunk
I know alcohol does different things to different people. Some people are fun drunks, others are mean. Some people back out, others remember everything. Still, I find myself surprised at its effect on me.
A week of sobriety made me grumpy and gave me difficulty sleeping (thank God for herbal tea) but I found myself doing better as I got farther away from that last drink.
Friday night was hard. We went to be late, and then my daughter started with night terrors at 2 a.m. I was up with her until 5:30 a.m. I went back to bed until 7, when I had to get up for an event I was coordinating on Saturday. I was exhausted and sore from hours in the rocking chair. I decided my moratorium on coffee wasn't happening and got a big mug of it on my way. I drank coffee all day long.
We were home by 5 p.m. Friday, and I commenced my cooking frenzy. And I drank. A lot. So much so I don't remember going to bed. But then I was up with no problem, before my alarm at 5:30. Up early enough to go downstairs, tidy up the kitchen, get ready for the day and confront the fact that I fell off the wagon. I wasn't exactly clear-headed but I managed to get a lot done before leaving the house at 8:30.
I know I have a drinking problem. I see that clearly right now. But what I don't understand is why drunk me runs circles around the rest of the world, and sober me struggles. Obviously, I need to develop some life skills. Just not sure how to go about doing that.
A week of sobriety made me grumpy and gave me difficulty sleeping (thank God for herbal tea) but I found myself doing better as I got farther away from that last drink.
Friday night was hard. We went to be late, and then my daughter started with night terrors at 2 a.m. I was up with her until 5:30 a.m. I went back to bed until 7, when I had to get up for an event I was coordinating on Saturday. I was exhausted and sore from hours in the rocking chair. I decided my moratorium on coffee wasn't happening and got a big mug of it on my way. I drank coffee all day long.
We were home by 5 p.m. Friday, and I commenced my cooking frenzy. And I drank. A lot. So much so I don't remember going to bed. But then I was up with no problem, before my alarm at 5:30. Up early enough to go downstairs, tidy up the kitchen, get ready for the day and confront the fact that I fell off the wagon. I wasn't exactly clear-headed but I managed to get a lot done before leaving the house at 8:30.
I know I have a drinking problem. I see that clearly right now. But what I don't understand is why drunk me runs circles around the rest of the world, and sober me struggles. Obviously, I need to develop some life skills. Just not sure how to go about doing that.
Sunday, December 9, 2012
Starting Over-Again
I hate myself today. I'm not even sure I can talk about it. Let's just say wine is apparently not my only trigger, and that the evenings that I'm home alone with my daughter are the hardest when it comes to staying sober.
I had a full night of cooking, and I like to drink when I'm cooking. I don't know why but I do. It's like peas and carrots for me. Just goes together perfectly. And for the record, I tend to be incredibly productive when I do. I will wake up in the a.m. with tons done and a clean kitchen. I may not remember any of it, but it looks great.
I will be gone every night this coming week because of holiday obligations, and this weekend is busy. Last night was my big night to cook. One of things I was making last night was cookie dough for an exchange coming up later in the week. I was making my holiday special, which is basically a cranberry-white chocolate cookie with brandy in it.
I had signed up to make them before I quit drinking, before I even realized drinking was really a problem for me. I didn't think it would be a problem. I was wrong.
I drank half the bottle of brandy last night. The rest went in the monumental amount of cookie dough I made. I don't remember going to bed.
Now, I'm wondering if it's time to talk to my husband, to tell him the depths of my problem, to ask for help.
I had a full night of cooking, and I like to drink when I'm cooking. I don't know why but I do. It's like peas and carrots for me. Just goes together perfectly. And for the record, I tend to be incredibly productive when I do. I will wake up in the a.m. with tons done and a clean kitchen. I may not remember any of it, but it looks great.
I will be gone every night this coming week because of holiday obligations, and this weekend is busy. Last night was my big night to cook. One of things I was making last night was cookie dough for an exchange coming up later in the week. I was making my holiday special, which is basically a cranberry-white chocolate cookie with brandy in it.
I had signed up to make them before I quit drinking, before I even realized drinking was really a problem for me. I didn't think it would be a problem. I was wrong.
I drank half the bottle of brandy last night. The rest went in the monumental amount of cookie dough I made. I don't remember going to bed.
Now, I'm wondering if it's time to talk to my husband, to tell him the depths of my problem, to ask for help.
Friday, December 7, 2012
How to Cope
I cannot eat my way through sobriety. I know some people do and worry about weight loss later, but it's really not an option for me. I have successfully maintained a loss of 170 pounds for over five years, thanks to gastric-bypass surgery. I have physical limitations that prevent me from eating everything in front of me in an effort to ignore alcohol.
But I know I need to find a crutch.
My sister has been sober 2 1/2 years, and she's proud of the fact that she never walked into a single meeting, never told her doctors, never reached out for help from anyone aside from her husband. And I am proud of her, too. It's a big accomplishment. Her crutch has been exercise, lots of it, every day. It works for her. It's helped her shed the excess weight drinking packed on, it's gotten her through "happy hour," which was the window of time between when she got home from work and her husband did.
My sister's life, however, is not my own. She lives in a different state, far away from any family, and the isolation suits her very well. Her kids are teens, and she has a lot of disposable income. I, on the other hand, am the primary wage earner in my home, my husband and I share one car, and our daughter is almost 3. There is not the time, money, transportation, nor the child care to allow me two hours a day at the gym. Nobody's fault, just not my current reality.
What I would like more than anything is to have life be my crutch, to immerse myself in the joy of experiencing daily life with my husband and daughter. That sounds like way more fun than overeating, over-exercising, over-crafting or any one of the other compulsive behaviors I could adopt to stay sober. I'm not there yet but I hope to be soon.
But I know I need to find a crutch.
My sister has been sober 2 1/2 years, and she's proud of the fact that she never walked into a single meeting, never told her doctors, never reached out for help from anyone aside from her husband. And I am proud of her, too. It's a big accomplishment. Her crutch has been exercise, lots of it, every day. It works for her. It's helped her shed the excess weight drinking packed on, it's gotten her through "happy hour," which was the window of time between when she got home from work and her husband did.
My sister's life, however, is not my own. She lives in a different state, far away from any family, and the isolation suits her very well. Her kids are teens, and she has a lot of disposable income. I, on the other hand, am the primary wage earner in my home, my husband and I share one car, and our daughter is almost 3. There is not the time, money, transportation, nor the child care to allow me two hours a day at the gym. Nobody's fault, just not my current reality.
What I would like more than anything is to have life be my crutch, to immerse myself in the joy of experiencing daily life with my husband and daughter. That sounds like way more fun than overeating, over-exercising, over-crafting or any one of the other compulsive behaviors I could adopt to stay sober. I'm not there yet but I hope to be soon.
Thursday, December 6, 2012
One Week Down
I have been consistently sober for one entire week. When I made the decision to take a break from alcohol last Thursday so I could take some time to examine whether I truly had a problem, I didn't think the one-week mark would be such a big deal.
But since then, I've survived three restaurant experiences, one night home alone and a holiday party where I have white-knuckled my way through sobriety. OK, to be honest, the restaurant experiences weren't a challenge. But that single night alone and last night's holiday party really were.
I ate way too much last night. My stomach is still overfilled from all the food. I might actually have a food hangover -- different from a booze hangover but no less unpleasant. I've been reading on other blogs that now is not the time to worry about weight or calories. One even said "chocolate is your friend." But I don't think I'm doing my body any favors if I stop abusing it in one way and start abusing it in another.
Not sure what I'll do about all of that, but I'll figure it all out.
But since then, I've survived three restaurant experiences, one night home alone and a holiday party where I have white-knuckled my way through sobriety. OK, to be honest, the restaurant experiences weren't a challenge. But that single night alone and last night's holiday party really were.
I ate way too much last night. My stomach is still overfilled from all the food. I might actually have a food hangover -- different from a booze hangover but no less unpleasant. I've been reading on other blogs that now is not the time to worry about weight or calories. One even said "chocolate is your friend." But I don't think I'm doing my body any favors if I stop abusing it in one way and start abusing it in another.
Not sure what I'll do about all of that, but I'll figure it all out.
Wednesday, December 5, 2012
First Battle Won
It's been one full week since my last drink. Tonight was my first real challenge: The office Christmas party . Work events are not usually drinking events for me. I have never considered the mix of alcohol and colleagues to be a smart cocktail. Still, I can typically manuever around one with a glass of wine in hand that never drops below the halfway mark.
Tonight was different. For the last week, everyone has been abuzz abou the food, the beer and the wine. When I decided to take a break from alcohol last week, I had intended to have wine at this party. But the farther I get from that last drink, the more I realize the scope of my problem. So I decided yesterday that I wasn't drinking tonight. Even went so far as to tell a few coworkers that the food sounded so good that I was diverting my wine calories so I could eat more.
Tonight wasn't awful but the wine beckoned me. I was offered a drink every 15 minutes or so. I managed to stay close to a full glass of water for the night. And aside from eating way too much, I survived.
Tonight was different. For the last week, everyone has been abuzz abou the food, the beer and the wine. When I decided to take a break from alcohol last week, I had intended to have wine at this party. But the farther I get from that last drink, the more I realize the scope of my problem. So I decided yesterday that I wasn't drinking tonight. Even went so far as to tell a few coworkers that the food sounded so good that I was diverting my wine calories so I could eat more.
Tonight wasn't awful but the wine beckoned me. I was offered a drink every 15 minutes or so. I managed to stay close to a full glass of water for the night. And aside from eating way too much, I survived.
Tuesday, December 4, 2012
Hard Night Becomes Rough Morning
I didn't drink last night but I sure feel hung over. After finally getting my sick little one to bed, I decided I belonged there, too. The sooner I went to bed sober, the sooner I'd wake up sober. Instead I was beseiged by dreams of drinking, of alcohol of trying hard to decide not to drink. I feel like I haven't slept a wink, and I am miserable. Not sure if giving up alcohol and coffee at the same time was such a good idea.
Here's to one more day.
Here's to one more day.
Monday, December 3, 2012
Hard Night
I spent the day thinking about drinking at work, only to come home to a sick husband and toddler. Yay me. After dinner, I sent hubby to bed. If he felt half as bad as he looked, he needed to be quarantined. That left me up with an equally ill toddler. With all the coughing and sneezing, she could star in her own NyQuil commercial. Of course, this also means she's clingy...a suction cup couldn't get much closer.
There goes my plan of being productive tonight. I was supposed to make five freezer meals and finish up our Christmas wreath. Instead, I'm anchored to the rocking chair with a whiny, needy little one. And as much as I love being needed and the forced closeness with my usually independent little girl, it's hard to relax during these moments. My mind races. I stress about finances, work, my marriage, the upcoming holidays, my messy house, the dirty laundry, my volunteer commitments, and then I start thinking that a drink would be really good right now.
In my mind, I had already gotten up, walked to the fridge and grabbed one of hubby's beers before I even realized I was fantasizing about drinking. Knowing beer isn't my trigger, I thought for a moment that it wouldn't hurt to have just one. But then I stopped. A drink tonight means I can't even last five days without a drink. I'm not ready to throw in the towel so soon.
So I put in a movie to entertain the little one, fired up the laptop and decided to read some "drunk mommy" blogs and post here. It's working so far.
There goes my plan of being productive tonight. I was supposed to make five freezer meals and finish up our Christmas wreath. Instead, I'm anchored to the rocking chair with a whiny, needy little one. And as much as I love being needed and the forced closeness with my usually independent little girl, it's hard to relax during these moments. My mind races. I stress about finances, work, my marriage, the upcoming holidays, my messy house, the dirty laundry, my volunteer commitments, and then I start thinking that a drink would be really good right now.
In my mind, I had already gotten up, walked to the fridge and grabbed one of hubby's beers before I even realized I was fantasizing about drinking. Knowing beer isn't my trigger, I thought for a moment that it wouldn't hurt to have just one. But then I stopped. A drink tonight means I can't even last five days without a drink. I'm not ready to throw in the towel so soon.
So I put in a movie to entertain the little one, fired up the laptop and decided to read some "drunk mommy" blogs and post here. It's working so far.
Almost a Week Down
A week ago today, I KNEW I had a drinking problem but just to make sure I tried to have a glass of wine last Wednesday. That glass turned into 6 or about a bottle and a half. I went to bed that night KNOWING something had to change and I had to quit.
I still haven't uttered the words "I" and "drinking problem" the same sentence, much less the dreaded "A-word" but I'm slowly heading toward acceptance. I have spent the past week on a journey to general wellness -- eliminating the mass amounts of caffeine, sugar, and of course, wine, that were flooding my body.
After a weekend in a surly mood, I told my husband that I am trying hard to get well. I didn't specifically say I was tackling my drinking but I told him I was working remove the toxins from my system and I listed alcohol among the collection. He nodded...nothing more. Not sure if that's his way of being silently supportive or if he really has not clue how deep I am in my problem. Right now, though, I don't care.
I never thought quitting could be so hard. The fog in my brain is just beginning to lift. I'm much less irritable than I have been over the past few days, but the urge for a drink is strong today. For no reason. No reason other than it sounds good.
I suppose that is another sign of having a problem...the inability to not think about drinking, to have it be all consuming. I don't like it.
I still haven't uttered the words "I" and "drinking problem" the same sentence, much less the dreaded "A-word" but I'm slowly heading toward acceptance. I have spent the past week on a journey to general wellness -- eliminating the mass amounts of caffeine, sugar, and of course, wine, that were flooding my body.
After a weekend in a surly mood, I told my husband that I am trying hard to get well. I didn't specifically say I was tackling my drinking but I told him I was working remove the toxins from my system and I listed alcohol among the collection. He nodded...nothing more. Not sure if that's his way of being silently supportive or if he really has not clue how deep I am in my problem. Right now, though, I don't care.
I never thought quitting could be so hard. The fog in my brain is just beginning to lift. I'm much less irritable than I have been over the past few days, but the urge for a drink is strong today. For no reason. No reason other than it sounds good.
I suppose that is another sign of having a problem...the inability to not think about drinking, to have it be all consuming. I don't like it.
Sunday, December 2, 2012
A Weekend Without Booze
I've survived by first weekend after deciding I might have a drinking problem. Funny, a few months ago, I would have told you that I didn't have a problem. I think the fact that I'm counting each day I go without wine just might be a good indicator that I have more than a problem.
Had date night with the hubby last night, usually a great time for me to acceptably have a couple of glasses of wine. We're total opposites. I prefer to drink at home because I hate paying $6 for a glass of wine in the restaurant that sells by the bottle for $10 in stores. He would rather drink in restaurants and bars because for him, it's part of the overall entertaining experience. There is no "experience" at home so why bother? Of course, the other difference is when we go out, he has ONE drink. I have THREE. Guess who's always driving?
I have yet to discuss my drinking with him, even after he caught me drunk before church last Saturday night. So when the topic of what do on our date came about, he suggested the usual: Go out for a drink or go out for dessert.
Our marriage has been rocky for awhile, partially because we don't devote much time to each other. So the purpose of last night's date was to work on our communication skills with one another. With that in mind, I suggested we go to the local bookstore cafe to chat. My reason? I was cold and really wanted hot tea.
We compromised and started with dinner at the location of our first date. He had beer; I had hot tea. Then we capped off the night at a cafe where he had a cappuchino and I had -- yup, more tea.
He said nothing about my beverage choices, but it was all I could think about it. Would he notice? Would he ask questions? How would I answer if he did?
Ultimately, the night was pleasant and I'm happy to say I remember it all.
Had date night with the hubby last night, usually a great time for me to acceptably have a couple of glasses of wine. We're total opposites. I prefer to drink at home because I hate paying $6 for a glass of wine in the restaurant that sells by the bottle for $10 in stores. He would rather drink in restaurants and bars because for him, it's part of the overall entertaining experience. There is no "experience" at home so why bother? Of course, the other difference is when we go out, he has ONE drink. I have THREE. Guess who's always driving?
I have yet to discuss my drinking with him, even after he caught me drunk before church last Saturday night. So when the topic of what do on our date came about, he suggested the usual: Go out for a drink or go out for dessert.
Our marriage has been rocky for awhile, partially because we don't devote much time to each other. So the purpose of last night's date was to work on our communication skills with one another. With that in mind, I suggested we go to the local bookstore cafe to chat. My reason? I was cold and really wanted hot tea.
We compromised and started with dinner at the location of our first date. He had beer; I had hot tea. Then we capped off the night at a cafe where he had a cappuchino and I had -- yup, more tea.
He said nothing about my beverage choices, but it was all I could think about it. Would he notice? Would he ask questions? How would I answer if he did?
Ultimately, the night was pleasant and I'm happy to say I remember it all.
Saturday, December 1, 2012
Kickin' Off the Weekend
I survived Friday night dinner out with just iced tea to drink, and the pre-weekend grocery store run with just some cartons of coconut water in my cart. This weekend is a test though. Monthly run to Costco where the wine deals this time of year can't be beat.
Right now, I feel good. Had my first solid night of sleep in over a weekend. I have a day of activities to keep me busy. We'll see how it goes.
Right now, I feel good. Had my first solid night of sleep in over a weekend. I have a day of activities to keep me busy. We'll see how it goes.
Friday, November 30, 2012
Day 2 and I'm a Liar
Despite not drinking yesterday, I was up for most of the night again. More anxiety, more worry. Most of it around my plans for tonight. It's my monthly mommy playdate, which really means it's one night where I get together with some mommy friends and we drink our way into oblivion while discussing the finer points of parenting, our husbands and our efforts to just keep ourselves sane.
I've tried to steer these dates away from wine for the last couple of month, suggesting different meeting times and locations. But for whatever reason, wine at someone's house is always the winning option.
I got out of bed this morning filled with dread. As I made a smoothie, I thought about texting the hostess and implying that I might be pregnant as an excuse for bringing a different beverage. The fact that I'm not pregnant and that I see her all the time made that not so realistic. I tried to envision different methods of avoiding wine for the evening but cranberry juice in a wine glass is hardly convincing.
A normal person would just call and say, "You know, I'm not feeling wine tonight. How about hot cocoa?" But I am not a normal person. There was no acceptable alternative in my brain. So I took the mature route. I lied. I texted her at 6 a.m. and said I had to cancel because my daughter was sick.
Her reply, "Aww...hang in there. We just had the crud at our place."
I was momentarily relieved and then riddled with guilt. Seriously, I've gone from lying about my drinking to lying about not drinking. Is this my future, one lie after another? I won't be able to keep them all straight.
The upside, however, is today, I am not drinking. And that makes Day 2.
I've tried to steer these dates away from wine for the last couple of month, suggesting different meeting times and locations. But for whatever reason, wine at someone's house is always the winning option.
I got out of bed this morning filled with dread. As I made a smoothie, I thought about texting the hostess and implying that I might be pregnant as an excuse for bringing a different beverage. The fact that I'm not pregnant and that I see her all the time made that not so realistic. I tried to envision different methods of avoiding wine for the evening but cranberry juice in a wine glass is hardly convincing.
A normal person would just call and say, "You know, I'm not feeling wine tonight. How about hot cocoa?" But I am not a normal person. There was no acceptable alternative in my brain. So I took the mature route. I lied. I texted her at 6 a.m. and said I had to cancel because my daughter was sick.
Her reply, "Aww...hang in there. We just had the crud at our place."
I was momentarily relieved and then riddled with guilt. Seriously, I've gone from lying about my drinking to lying about not drinking. Is this my future, one lie after another? I won't be able to keep them all straight.
The upside, however, is today, I am not drinking. And that makes Day 2.
Thursday, November 29, 2012
Starting Over
I didn't sleep for shit last night. I went to bed at 1 a.m. and was up at 3:45 p.m. It's funny, insomnia is what I think led to my disordered drinking. I'd have a glass of wine at night to unwind, which led to two and then three. I'd go to bed, only to bolt awake as soon as the alcohol burned off. Up in the middle of the night wide awake is not good when one has to work in the morning. So I'd get up and drink more to fall back asleep. Then I'd get up with my alarm and be bleary-eyed and groggy so I'd jolt myself with caffeine -- sometimes a pot or more of coffee throughout the day. Then, I'd be too wired at night to sleep. So guess what I'd do? Yup...another glass of wine to "unwind." Rinse and repeat.
When I woke up this morning, I realized that I don't drink because I suffer from insomnia. Alcohol is causing my insomnia. And lately after drinking, I am paralyzed by anxiety, which feeds my insomnia.
So I started my day with a smoothie and a vitamin. Not perfect but a start as I start over.
Even right now, I don't know that I am quitting drinking but I know I need to. My husband works again tonight, and it seems that is when I drink myself into a stupor most often. So I called a friend and scheduled a post-dinner playdate for my daughter. I had company till about 9 p.m. Most of the night is gone and I haven't thought about getting some wine. Now, if I can just immerse myself in bed and bath routines with my daughter, I might make it to bedtime without a drink.
And so my sobriety will begin.
When I woke up this morning, I realized that I don't drink because I suffer from insomnia. Alcohol is causing my insomnia. And lately after drinking, I am paralyzed by anxiety, which feeds my insomnia.
So I started my day with a smoothie and a vitamin. Not perfect but a start as I start over.
Even right now, I don't know that I am quitting drinking but I know I need to. My husband works again tonight, and it seems that is when I drink myself into a stupor most often. So I called a friend and scheduled a post-dinner playdate for my daughter. I had company till about 9 p.m. Most of the night is gone and I haven't thought about getting some wine. Now, if I can just immerse myself in bed and bath routines with my daughter, I might make it to bedtime without a drink.
And so my sobriety will begin.
Wednesday, November 28, 2012
Drunk and Brooding
The bottle and a half of wine sitting in the house since Thanksgiving finally got the best of me tonight. Funny, I have a case of beer in the fridge and I don't pay it any mind. But that bottle of wine hidden in the back of the cupboard calls to me like a seductive lover.
After Saturday's two-bottle binge, I didn't think I'd drink for quite some time. I didn't sober up until Sunday night. Monday was the first day of clarity. Tuesday was better. Today sucked.
Been reading sobriety blogs. Scary. I've spent a lot of time over the past month telling myself there is no way I could be an alcoholic. I'm a successful professional. I'm a mommy. I'm the person everyone goes to when their world is falling apart. I am the glue that holds my team, my family and my friends together. I'm the voice of reason, the responsible one, the capable one. How can I be an alcoholic, a slave to the bottle? Not me; no way.
And then I read these blogs, especially the "drunk mommy" blogs dedicated to alcoholic moms. And their stories are too close to mine. They aren't degenerates with criminal records and broken relationships. They have it all together on the outside, and like me, they fall apart on the inside when they are all alone and no one is watching.
That's what happened today. Sunday and Monday were easy days not to drink. My husband was off work and hanging around the house. Tuesday, I had an event to attend after work that ran until late in the evening. But today, today was quiet. I worked from home (didn't even need to get out of my pajamas), but felt busy and occupied -- until my husband left for work. I lasted about an hour before I cracked open the bottle of wine. Instead of having dinner, I finished the half-bottle left over from the weekend.
Now I'm here...feeling defeated, a failure...but too drunk to do anything about it. So I'm drinking water, lots of water, in hopes of being sober by the time my husband gets home. If not, then I hope to be in bed so he doesn't notice.
After Saturday's two-bottle binge, I didn't think I'd drink for quite some time. I didn't sober up until Sunday night. Monday was the first day of clarity. Tuesday was better. Today sucked.
Been reading sobriety blogs. Scary. I've spent a lot of time over the past month telling myself there is no way I could be an alcoholic. I'm a successful professional. I'm a mommy. I'm the person everyone goes to when their world is falling apart. I am the glue that holds my team, my family and my friends together. I'm the voice of reason, the responsible one, the capable one. How can I be an alcoholic, a slave to the bottle? Not me; no way.
And then I read these blogs, especially the "drunk mommy" blogs dedicated to alcoholic moms. And their stories are too close to mine. They aren't degenerates with criminal records and broken relationships. They have it all together on the outside, and like me, they fall apart on the inside when they are all alone and no one is watching.
That's what happened today. Sunday and Monday were easy days not to drink. My husband was off work and hanging around the house. Tuesday, I had an event to attend after work that ran until late in the evening. But today, today was quiet. I worked from home (didn't even need to get out of my pajamas), but felt busy and occupied -- until my husband left for work. I lasted about an hour before I cracked open the bottle of wine. Instead of having dinner, I finished the half-bottle left over from the weekend.
Now I'm here...feeling defeated, a failure...but too drunk to do anything about it. So I'm drinking water, lots of water, in hopes of being sober by the time my husband gets home. If not, then I hope to be in bed so he doesn't notice.
Tuesday, November 27, 2012
Reluctant Writer
I hate this blog...or the idea of this blog, I should say. I hate that I think I have a problem I can't solve, and I really hate admitting that in public. Nobody even knows I have a drinking problem. My husband suspects, but he doesn't say anything. Maybe he's afraid of what I would say. For the last month, I've been on eggshells waiting for him to say something about that night last month...or the two similar nights since. But he doesn't. The closest he's come to confronting me is to ask me Saturday on our way to church if I had been drinking. I had...a lot. I thought I had started early enough to be sober by the evening, but the alcohol seemed to hit me all at once about 30 minutes before we walked out the door. Actually, he walked. I stumbled.
I lied and said I had a couple of glasses (try 5) and asked, "Why do you ask?" He said he could tell. I was acting "too chill" and, "well, I can kinda smell it on you." Nice. Not good at all. We didn't discuss it after that.
The only reason I started this blog was because of my sister. She's been sober over 2 years, though I didn't have a clue until she hit the six-month mark. She kept her sobriety a secret because she was afraid to fail. She's never set foot in a meeting, never told anyone about her struggles. Only her husband and I know she's in recovery. I asked her over the summer how she flipped the mental switch. How she went from drinking two bottles of wine and a six-pack a day in hiding to nothing all on her own.
Then she confessed her secret. She blogged. She has a random, secretive blog that she started at the beginning of her journey to sobriety. She says she doesn't post daily but as often as she needs to. She writes about her urge to drink instead of giving in. Those urges are less frequent now. But the blog -- the online record of her recovery -- keeps her honest about how far she's come.
She says she can tell it took her a full month to detox from the alcohol coursing through her body. Her posts were scattered, erratic. She still held onto the fantasy that her drinking problem was temporary, that she just needed to get control before she went back to drinking. Now, when she looks back, she sees the disease talking -- the alcohol-induced haze. She's reminded not just of who she was back then, but who she has become now. And, according to her, that's enough to keep the urges at bay.
So, I figure if it works for her, it might work for me, too. Even if I don't make it to sobriety, I'll have these posts to remind me that right here, right now, I think I have a problem. And really, that's the definition of a problem, isn't it? If you think you might have one, then you know for sure you do.
The only reason I started this blog was because of my sister. She's been sober over 2 years, though I didn't have a clue until she hit the six-month mark. She kept her sobriety a secret because she was afraid to fail. She's never set foot in a meeting, never told anyone about her struggles. Only her husband and I know she's in recovery. I asked her over the summer how she flipped the mental switch. How she went from drinking two bottles of wine and a six-pack a day in hiding to nothing all on her own.
Then she confessed her secret. She blogged. She has a random, secretive blog that she started at the beginning of her journey to sobriety. She says she doesn't post daily but as often as she needs to. She writes about her urge to drink instead of giving in. Those urges are less frequent now. But the blog -- the online record of her recovery -- keeps her honest about how far she's come.
She says she can tell it took her a full month to detox from the alcohol coursing through her body. Her posts were scattered, erratic. She still held onto the fantasy that her drinking problem was temporary, that she just needed to get control before she went back to drinking. Now, when she looks back, she sees the disease talking -- the alcohol-induced haze. She's reminded not just of who she was back then, but who she has become now. And, according to her, that's enough to keep the urges at bay.
So, I figure if it works for her, it might work for me, too. Even if I don't make it to sobriety, I'll have these posts to remind me that right here, right now, I think I have a problem. And really, that's the definition of a problem, isn't it? If you think you might have one, then you know for sure you do.
Monday, November 26, 2012
Enough is Enough?
I woke up the next morning with a throbbing head, throbbing knee and no memory of much else. I hobbled to the bathroom and this is what I found when I dropped trou.
I don't remember how it got there. I assume I fell. I must have fallen. It hurt like hell but I didn't have much time to think because I was starting a new job that day. I snapped this photo in the office bathroom as a reminder of what happens when my drinking gets the best of me.
A month later, my knee is still bruised. Whatever happened, nobody saw. My husband hasn't mentioned it. My daughter is too young. I tried to piece together what happened but I've since given up. I wear long pants 24/7, hiding evidence of my over-indulgence from everyone -- including my husband.
I wish I could say this photo also marks the last day I drank. It's not.
It just marks the first day that I realized I have a drinking problem. I've spent the last month trying to wrap my brain around this problem. When it did it start? When did I lose control? Why? How? How did I have self-control at one point and then lose it all? I have no answers. All I know is that a year ago, I could stop at one glass of wine. Today, I will drink until every bottle in the house is empty or I pass out. I've tried controlling it. Tried abstaining. To have "just one." But the wine calls to me now, beckons me. The sound of its siren's call is deafening. I can't drown it out.
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