Saturday, August 18, 2012
Sitting here in the wee hours of the morning just...being. I'm up early with the dogs because the hubs was up late waiting for the teenagers to get home. You think you lose sleep when they are infants and then they become teenagers. I sleep way less now.
Haven't turned on the TV yet. That's unusual for me. I normally need it for background noise. When I travelled it was the first thing I did when I walked into a hotel room. The simple act of turning on the TV accomplished so much. It made it feel more like home. It filled the quiet. It kept me company because I couldn't stand my own. I wasn't someone with whom I wanted to spend any quality time.
It didn't happen when I first got sober, it waited until I was well into recovery. It happened gradually, little snippets of time when I didn't mind being alone, in the quiet, with only my thoughts to keep me company. Those times grew, came more often and somehow felt like it was the right way to be. Like it was what I needed.
Eventually I began to crave the quiet time. The solitude.
I remember when I used to be like this. I always say that I'm not a morning person, but I remember a time when I was. When I was the first out of bed. When I craved that little bit of morning time before the hubs woke. It was a time to sit quietly with my thoughts. To just be. Over the last several years, I've often wondered what happened to that woman.
Then kids came along and there is no solitude when you are raising little ones. I used to put my novels in the bathroom and read them a chapter at a time while I was...well...you know. There were times when I would escape to the potty and I didn't even have to go! It was just the only place and the only time I was truly alone. But I wouldn't have had it any other way.
As the boys grew and the drinking escalated, I stopped wanting to be alone anymore. I dreaded traveling because it meant that I'd have to be alone with myself. I didn't know why at the time. I just chalked it up to changes. I slept late telling myself I deserved it. That I was no longer a morning person. Let the hubs take the morning shift, I'll take another hour or so of sleep.
Plus I was usually hungover...duh...
Then I got sober and still I couldn't stand to be alone. TV went on as soon as I entered a room (even to clean it). Meditation and yoga were out of the question because they made me sit quietly with my own thoughts. I couldn't do that. I was too busy beating myself up and going several rounds with the Boxing Bitch and just generally doing penance to even think about any quiet time...let alone solitude.
Slowly I started to recover. I learned how to let go. I started listening to what God had to tell me (or at least trying to). Most importantly, I learned how to forgive...even myself. And slowly, very, very slowly, I'm learning to sit with myself and my thoughts and enjoy the time. To savor it. To crave it.
I'm getting to know my sober self. So far I like what I see. I can sit with her and be quiet and let God speak and we both listen...me with my head and she with her heart. Together we're a pretty good team.
And that my friends, is nothing short of the miracle which is sobriety and recovery.
Labels: alcoholism; recovery; motherhood; addiction; women and alcoholism; aa; clinical depression; do i have a drinking problem; am I drinking too much; coping with motherhood, recovery; alcoholism; moms; motherhood; depression; women's issues; growing older; middle age; women in their 50s; empty nesters