Sobering Journey

What the hell is so hard about the late afternoon, the drive home from work, and taking that first step into the house? I know they call it the witching hour for sober folks, cocktail hour for drinking folks, but it’s my Screw You Leave Me Alone Hour. I have a friend that once told me she demands that everyone leaves her alone after she comes home from work. She’s a nurse, and has a glass of wine in her kitchen while she starts dinner before anyone can really talk to her. I totally relate, although I haven’t told anybody to leave me alone. In the past I’d just pour myself a glass of wine while listening to all the stories about my family’s day, and all the things I needed to do. Then I’d pour another glass of wine as I got overwhelmed, and then I’d pour another glass of wine while I became anxious, and then I’d pour another glass of wine and not eat the dinner I prepared. You get the picture.

Lately the Screw You Leave Me Alone Hour has been driving me a little nuts so I’ve been having to really plan my evenings. I couldn’t make it to yoga in time after work, so I called my husband and told him to put the meal we bought already prepared from the butcher shop in the oven, pronto! I don’t know what it is, but if I eat a decent meal all the desire to drink goes away. What a simple and rather pleasant solution. Eating = not drinking. At least that’s how it is for me anyway.

When I got home the dinner was not quite done, so I grabbed my son and got him a much needed hair cut. We all ate together, then I took my son out to practice for his driving test. My thoughts about drinking were in the background of my life once again, not sitting in front of me shouting in my face. I took a warm shower, put on some comfy clothes and watched a movie. I slept like a baby. I’ve woken up grateful this morning instead of hating myself this morning. I’ve said it before, but I’ll say it again. Those lousy 3 hours, 5PM – 8PM make all the difference. They are powerful hours, life changing hours. But when I just see them as 3 hours in a 24 hour day they become more manageable, and hell, that’s dinner time so I may as well eat dinner………..

Yesterday my sobriety plan was hot yoga after work. By 4PM I was making excuses not to go. I’m tired. My son will be home alone (he’s 17!). I’ll have to change out of my work clothes at the studio. I forgot my sweat towel……. blah blah blah.

But I went. It felt relaxing once I settled in. I chatted with a few of the other women which I usually don’t do. The lights dimmed, and the heat felt so good. And the music began. What the hell? The music was all Disney themed! The yoga instructor warned us we’d be in for a surprise, but I certainly didn’t think this would be it.

We warmed up, and the memories inside me swelled. Songs from The Jungle Book played, and I remember so many moments with my oldest son. This was his favorite movie, and I had forgotten so many of these songs, and they brought up all the images of holding him next to me as we watched his favorite movie together and I watched him and couldn’t imagine my heart being more full of love. I remember him snuggling next to me, and then I remembered when my drinking would disappoint him. Sweet images and images of regret strewn together. It was messing with my brain as I went through my movements.

I was sweating now, and the dimness of the room, my sweat, and my memories were starting to sink deeper in. Songs from Mulan came on, which conjured up so many moment with my daughter. This was her favorite movie. We would watch it together, wrapped up in each others arms after a day at the beach. It always made me cry, and as I was in downward dog, child pose, dolphin, etc. I could feel the sweat mingling with my tears as the sweet images swirled with images of regret for drinking around my children.

I wouldn’t have traded all these emotions for anything, regardless of the pain in my heart, because there was more love than pain. I think I left a piece of me in that yoga room. I felt a shift, a realization, a sense of forgiveness for myself as my body, mind and spirit were taken to a different place. It began putting things in a better perspective for me. Those songs transported me to another time, but it was like I was watching a movie, a movie of one of the most difficult times of my life. Divorce, heart break, fear, drinking, love, all mixed in with a big heap of forgiveness for myself. As I was watching the movie I was weeping for the girl in the middle of it all, simply trying to do her best as she struggled to raise 3 small children alone. And I finally felt sorry for her, and began to understand that she sure could have used some compassion during those days………

Happy Sober Tuesday,

KB

This weekend was rather shaky as I rumbled along on the sobriety bandwagon. I’ve heard some great advice this past month or so, and it’s all sinking in as I continue to grow and learn. What I’m learning is that this sobriety path is not a path that is sure footed and easy to follow. At least not for everyone. There are forks in the road, there are logs to jump over, there’s bushes that need to be cut, and along the path all of a sudden there’s a beautiful vista, made for just your eyes and journey. And when that magical meadow, that gorgeous sunrise, or that sparkling lake reveals itself after all the hard work it’s hard not to take it in and just BE IN AWE.

That happened to me this weekend. I had that danger time again as I wobbled along the sobriety path. I woke up yesterday invigorated and rested, sober and happy. I went to yoga in the morning, and was feeling rather pleased with myself. I did some reading before the sun rose, and thanked God for another sober day.

But the day wore on. I needed to do the tedious task of grocery shopping to get ready for the week. I needed to put laundry away, I needed to do more laundry so I could put it away, I needed to cook a couple things so we could have a decent meal or two throughout the week. You get the idea. Chores that need to get done, but I don’t know. I kind of resent them on the weekend. I really should work more on getting my act together through the week and do a few of these things instead of saving them all up for a Sunday. But I digress.

So my husband leaves soon after I get home from yoga to go skeet shooting with his friend which will inevitably turn into drinks, so I have his buzzed return to look forward to. Later my son goes with his friends to see the school play, and I continue on with my chores. And then my addict voice erupts. “This would be so much more fun with a little wine. Just a little…… We can cook a beautiful meal for when the boys get home, we can sit on the deck in the cool air and enjoy a cigarette. Nothing crazy. Just a bit of time to relax on the weekend. Come on, you deserve it.” I sit and listen and become mesmerized by the voice and I can physically feel the switch in my body. I can feel it revving up. Yep, just a little wine. What harm can there be?”

But I broke the spell. I recognized the addict voice, that whispering little fucker in my ear. Like so many I’ve given him a name, stolen from a sobriety book I read. My addict’s voice is Voldemort. I stole this name because it reminds me of another villain in my life that was no good for me. The two share a lot in common which includes things such as self loathing, self destruction, lack of self love, and bad influences. I somehow separated myself from the addict voice, and I stopped my chores. I laid down on the couch with a cup of tea and watched a movie. Blue Jasmine. It calmed me down, and if you’ve seen the movie you see Cate Blanchett’s character spiraling down, down, down. Popping pills, drinking vodka, and unraveling. “My god” I thought. “She’s a complete mess.” I don’t want to be like Jasmine.

After watching the movie I grabbed the dog, went for a walk. I’ve learned that being outdoors is another sobriety tool. The sunshine, the cool air, are all therapeutic. When I returned from my walk all sunshiny and bouncy stepped I picked right back up on my chores. I finished the soup I was making, and was putting laundry away as my boys started arriving home. And it was a nice day all in all. I flexed my sobriety muscles, and they got a bit stronger……….

Happy Sober Monday,

KB

My son goes on a Kairos Retreat with his school later this month. It is a spiritual retreat, and the kids receive letters from people that most influenced them. This is a secret, and the kids are not supposed to know about it, so I’ve been secretly contacting people in his life that I think have most influenced him, cared for him, and have shown him love and have been asking them to write him a letter.

One such person was a teacher my son had in elementary school. This woman got it. She not only took care of her students’ education, but she looked out for them emotionally as well. She had a bunch of 5th graders meditating on a daily basis! And my son loved her and she loved him. So I asked her to write him a letter for him to read at the retreat.

I met her for lunch on Friday to pick up the sealed letter. I felt like one of her students, just loving to be around her vibrancy, warmth. We hugged, and when she hugs you she does it deeply, and she has this earthy, pungent delightful smell. I’ve always remembered that smell, and it is so her that it is something you will never forget.  

Usually when we’ve seen each other over the years it is at a school fundraiser, function, or with a group of people. This time it was just the two of us, and we talked and talked and talked. She’s a great storyteller, and she told me stories of the kids in her classroom, how my son and his buddies always stayed in her room and had lunch with her. She always let them, and she said that’s when she learned about who they really were. They opened up, and talked about things that sat at the top of their hearts and it would teach her how to help them, understand them, and to protect them.

We ended up moving the conversation to adult things. She led the ebb and flow, and I followed around, wanting to absorb all these moments with this woman. She told me about her life, about how her husband was an alcoholic and they suffered in the early years because of it. She told me he gave up drinking while her kids were still young, and how she fought so hard for him to do so so the cycle would be ended. She told me stories about how one of her sons, despite having this amazing woman as a mother and a father that gave up alcohol for their family, still fell victim to prescription drugs and became an addict. God took this family in his hands though, and through 4 months in inpatient rehab he was able to get the help he needed, and was able to put together a lovely life in time. 

I was quiet, and just took it all in. It’s amazing what we can learn from other people. All these years, in my mind, I never would have thought this woman had so many problems. I saw her as this free spirit, with a perfect marriage, who loved her adult sons and has always shown so much pride in them. When I would meet with her, or other teachers at the school, I would feel like a wounded dirty bird. That although I was dressed nice, smiling, and saying all the right things there was a deep hurt behind my smiling eyes. I used to wonder if people could see it, because I could. There are many pictures of me that if I look close enough I can see a sadness that is buried deep inside me. As I left that lunch feeling warm and grateful for spending such a lovely hour with this woman I began wondering if she shared with me her stories that were not made up of fairy tales of a perfect life because she knew all along that there was something not quite right with me, that there was a hurt, and in her wisdom by sharing she was giving me a gift. 

To be honest with everyone I have not been completely alcohol free lately. I am slipping here and there, and it has given my husband relief, but it is making me feel terrible about myself. I feel in limbo, trying to decide how I can do all of this because I really don’t want to cut out my dear dear friends that make me feel loved and a part of a life we have created. We have a wedding next Sunday that is over 3 hours away so I have volunteered to be the designated driver for everyone because we will all have to drive home that night so we can go to work on Monday, so I am shielded from that event.  But I can’t shield myself forever, and I know I need to get back in a better frame of mind. I don’t want to just sit around thinking about not drinking, and I’ve received many sage words of wisdom from you women, letting me know this will get better. That it becomes a new normal, that I won’t be consumed with these thoughts. I love knowing that, and I’m probably foolishly trying to speed it up just by shear willpower. But I think I have learned that shear willpower cannot last forever. So I’m going to go back to basics today. I’m going to take it one day at a time, and I will not drink today. I am going to going to go to work as I finish out this last week at my old job. I’m going to take the time to go to the gym on my lunch hour, and I’m going to yoga after work. And I’m going to be grateful for a new day.

Happy Monday!

Well, it’s been a long time since I’ve written here. I will peak from time to time at others’ posts, and my heart will lend itself to the stories that are told. It is such an amazing place for all of us to come together to share our world of trying to conquer the things that are causing us harm. But I struggle knowing what to say, to give advice. I always think that I am not qualified because I’m just trying to figure out each day myself at this point. 

I was becoming obsessed with this non drinking world I was living. It was taking up most of my moments. I delved deeper into myself and I was analyzing most of my time. I was either loving my non drinking self and wanted to wear a t-shirt that said “Non Drinker, High on Life!”, or I was in the depths, wondering how I was going to live my life as an outsider, how am I going to save my marriage, how am I going to explain to clients that I do not drink. Sure, there were times that I thought I could handle it, and I felt that I had the magic key to clarity and true living. But there were many times that I thought my obsessiveness was ruining my life in a different way. So I decided to back off. To try to  learn how to just be me, and to be forgiving, non judgmental, and to just do the next right thing. I tried to focus on my work during the day and not just on being sober so that I could learn to live a normal life. So I’m trying, and a lot of time I’m succeeding, and some of the time I’m failing. 

I overcame a huge hurdle this week. I accepted an offer at a new company which is like a dream come true! I will be leaving my high stress sales job for a new position that will offer a bit more of everything, and I can’t wait. I am one luck sober girl this morning, and I’m hoping to handle being on this site a bit more again, to be able to join you sober sisters with truth telling and encouragement. Thank you to all who share. There’s so much learning that takes place when we open our hearts and minds to others.   

I was reading Unpickled, Jean McCarthy’s blog, and in a recent post she mentioned the Pink Cloud phase of sobriety. Wow! There was a name for that euphoria, that intense OH MY GOD I’M SOBER AND PROUD AND FEEL GOOD AND AMAZING which was waaayyyyy better than any cocktail or glass of wine that I’d ever had! But now those feelings are gone, and I’m waking up every morning not hung over, but not especially feeling so great either. Not having those feelings of feeling like a bad ass makes it more difficult not to drink, and that, my friends, really sucks.

When I quit drinking I thought everything was going to get better. I thought my sales at work would go through the roof, and I saw promotions, pats on the back, an employee of the CENTURY plaque at my desk and my very own parking place. But that didn’t happen. Actually I’ve been in a bit of a slump lately, and at my revenue driven company that is not okay. Perform, perform, perform or get out of the way because somebody’s ass will be sitting in your seat if you don’t press on the gas! So that’s been a real bummer, and I’ve been thinking lately,”Hey Sobriety, I thought you were going to solve all my problems, and Hey Drinking, I thought you caused all the problems? What the hell is going on here and where did my pink cloud go? If my pink cloud was around me I wouldn’t care about work, I’d figure I’d manage my relationship with my husband some way somehow, and I’d keep on spreading good cheer and cheerleading a life of sobriety. But my pink cloud zoned out on me, or I zoned out on it and the skies are gray.

I mentioned my relapse recently in another post. That really sucked and I haven’t felt the same about myself since. I know I need sober people in my life, and although this group has been the biggest support I’ve ever gotten in any attempt to stop drinking I realize I need real people. But I’ve been lazy about that too. I’m tired. I’m tired of thinking about drinking, not drinking, sobriety, maybe I can drink at this occasion, maybe I’m not alcoholic, maybe I am an alcoholic, maybe I should see a therapist, maybe I need to go to AA, maybe I need to get away from here, maybe I need a new job, and on and on and on and on. I want to stop focusing so much on all of this and just get on with it already, and when I say IT I just mean life.

I have this habit of shutting down when things get to be too much. I retreat, and just go through the motions. I’m afraid I’ve been doing this lately, and I am recognizing it threatens my sobriety. I am in awe of the women in this group that reached out to me to see if I’m okay since I’ve been quiet lately. Thank you, thank you, thank you. That act of kindness, that realization that somebody was thinking of me and my sobriety meant more than you will ever know. It was exactly the kick in the butt I needed to pull myself out of the gray skies. I’m realizing the skies of sobriety may not always be full of pink fluffy clouds, but even when the skies are gray the skies are always blue, and the sun is always shining once you bust through those gray clouds. So this morning, for the first time in a long time, I’m feeling rather cheery, and happy happy happy about another sober morning.

Happy Sober Thursday Everyone!

I came home from work on Friday and I’d had it. I was emotional, raw, hurting, scared, frustrated, and charging into my head with absolutely no love or compassion, especially not for myself.

I have been struggling lately and I am letting my head get the best of me, and even when I know I need to put on my gratitude big girl panties they are falling down around my ankles, like even the elastic is too tired and saying, “I can’t hold you up anymore, this is just too hard.” I’m tired too because I’ve been letting my feelings back away, as if they aren’t important anymore and I have to keep trudging forward even though I’m going to fall off a cliff, despite the fact I know better. I’ve been feeling like anything I talk about nobody cares about so all I’ve been doing is listening and once again forgetting that I matter.

I came home from work on Friday a shaky miserable mess. A week or so ago I found an old stale pack of cigarettes in my glove compartment. I can’t even remember when they were bought, but when I saw them they made me look hard. But I didn’t toss them out. They stayed in my glove box, just in case. So in my sorry state of feeling sorry for myself on Friday I took them inside the house so I guess Friday was my just in case. I believe I didn’t throw them away to erase who I was, but I kept them and brought them inside the house so I could remember. I poured a glass of juice and soda water, and took my 2 cigarettes outside to sit on my deck to try and feel. It didn’t work.

I smoked those 2 cigarettes and they made me feel queasy. As I was smoking and sipping my pretend cocktail I was trying to conjure up some fake drinking time. I was polluting my body again, and here it was feeling so strong and healthy. Or at least it did on some days, but on other days I was getting tired of feeling so damn good all the time. Where was the euphoria of being in my sober strong body? When did that leave me and was I really going to make it feel like shit again just so I could get that back?

There was a can of beer in the fridge, which has been there for a long time. Beer isn’t my thing, and through all of these sober days it held no threats. But somewhere lurking in the depth of my mind I knew it was there all along. And the house was still empty.  I knew what I was supposed to do. I knew to have something to eat. I knew to get out of the house, go for a walk, go to the library, call a friend, eat something. But I did none of that. I was caught up in my alcoholic sister and her poor little daughter, my aging mother, my friend dying, my job eating me alive, my indifference, my anger, my boredom, my resentment to my husband and it all took hold of me and whispered devilish things in my ear.

So with the devil on my shoulder howeling nonsense I finished my 2 cigarettes and got in my car and bought another pack. I came home to a still devoid house, and cracked open the can of beer. I took my first sip. Nothing. It didn’t taste good, and it didn’t take my feelings away. nor did it give my feelings back. I lit another cigarette. It tasted like shit too, so nothing was working. And then my husband came home. He opened the sliding glass doors, and just looked at me and said “What are you doing?” “I’ve just had a really bad day.” I said, and he closed the door while shaking his head. I wasn’t sure if he was coming back to talk to me, or if this was it for the night, so I just sat still, secretly hoping he would come back outside so I could talk to somebody. I was tired of being strong, I was tired of being a good listener. I needed somebody to listen to me. He did come back outside, and his eyes were softer, kinder. “I’m going to the store to get something to drink.” he said. I asked him to get me a bottle of wine.

And so we went back to our normal behavior for a small space of time; sitting on the deck, drinking, smoking, and talking. For the first time in a long time I opened up to him about everything, and he told me everything was going to be alright, and a piece of me wrapped into the words and I believed them and him.

The next day I tortured myself. I woke up in the morning and began my assault, but my husband held me tight, and told me not to beat myself up, that maybe that was my whole problem, this constant beating I am always taking. So I stopped the abuse and started trying to put things in perspective. I don’t miss drinking do I? Was there anything miraculous that happened while I sipped a beer, had a glass of wine and smoked the cigarettes? I replayed the night, my feelings, over and over and over again, and I made discoveries. I discovered the allure lies in the movie that runs in my head, and not in the actual act. It lies somewhere in between the lines of remembering and romanticizing a moment, but that moment never truly exists. It is a notion, a trick of a memory. And now I pray I know this.

These last few days I’ve discovered I cannot do this alone. I need somebody sober in my life, so I’m going to have to reach out, go to meetings perhaps, or reconnect with my one and only sober friend. I am isolating in my head and in my emotions, despite my physical body is here there and everywhere. And it is not good.

My worries are tight that I am seeing that the only time I really talk with my husband is when we are drinking. I’m constantly scared that drinking is the only thing that held us together, and he did not plan on a life with a non drinking wife. My sober self watches him, judges him, and I’m ashamed to admit that beneath my constant thinking, my so called wisdom filled sober thoughts, that I brush him underneath because surely he is not understanding. In my sobriety I have been shutting down the rest of my life and the balance is not balanced at all but leaning to one side which leaves me stumbling. Because there is nothing else to hold on to. Just me, me not drinking, memories. So my relapse was small, but made me feel like shit, but I’ve forgiven myself because it took the mystery away and left me naked and open to what was really happening. All these years I’ve been telling myself that if I just quit drinking my entire life will get better. Well, I quit drinking, but problems still exist and there is still work to do.

These past few days I’ve been trying to understand the lessons I learned and paid for. I’m going to remember to put things in perspective. I’m going to try and not focus on the negative, but remember the positive. I’m going to remember to believe in myself, and to give everything and everyone a break around me. I’m going to remember I’m able to imagine all kinds of things and worst case scenarios, but that is my imagination, and perhaps not my reality. I’m going to try and learn the difference.

Happy Sober Wednesday