Celebration - Part I

Thank you to everyone for your responses to my last two posts.  The fact is that I would write this blog even if no one read it.  It's way cheaper than therapy and it works.  But the fact that I know you guys are out there, cheering me on, supporting me when I'm low and laughing at my stupid jokes has made this blog a part of my life and you all a part of my family.

And if even one person gets even an ounce of comfort from my words then it's worth every keystroke.

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Yesterday got me thinking about the word "celebrate".  The meaning of that word has changed so much in my sobriety.  Believe it or not fellow alkies, everything is not cause for celebration!  I know!  I was shocked too.

See, when I was drinking I was constantly on the lookout for situations that would make me feel normal AND allow me to drink as much as I wanted.  The key was to celebrate something so that everyone was drinking and I didn't feel so alone.  The words "Let's Celebrate" rolled off my tongue like "What's for dinner?" and "Do you have any cash?" roll of the tongues of my boys.  Anything was cause for celebration for me.  Anything to keep me from feeling like I was drinking too much.

Because I knew I was.  I just was not ready to admit it.

This process worked fine, for awhile.  I was able to drink only while celebrating and my normal life just kept going.  I held down jobs.  I parented my children.  I loved my spouse.  I hid.  I lied. 

I drank.

And somewhere along the way it all went wonky and I found myself celebrating alone more and more.  I mean, why go out and pay for wine when I could get much greater quantities much cheaper and stay home?  Plus, going out meant I'd have to bring my mental calculator so I could keep track of how many I'd had, how many my nearest competitor had, how much was left and whether or not I was slurring yet.

Sheesh!  Way too much work!

So I just stayed home and drank by myself.  I'd still celebrate the stuff I used to celebrate, (you know, like the laundry being done) but I did it alone so that I wouldn't have to expend so much energy thinking and I could just concentrate on drinking.

Because drinking "moderately" was hard work.  In fact, it's fucking exhausting!  Keeping track of all that crap, worrying constantly that I'd be found out, that someone would notice how much I had to drink, that someone would judge.  Nope...just too much to do and it ruined my happy time.  So I preferred to just sit home alone and drink.  Because I deserved it.  Because I was celebrating!!!

And then one day it was not so much fun anymore.  In fact it was painful.  I was full of shame and remorse and guilt.  It was hard to get out of bed every morning and keep that life I loved so much together because I was sick.  Not just sick from being hungover, I was used to that.  Sick from being in so much pain all the time as a result of the thing that was supposed to numb the pain!

Now no one was celebrating.  Not my family who were concerned but tired of seeing me slurring and incoherent every night.  Not my friends who wanted to see me but I'd isolated myself so much I turned down every invitation.  Not my colleagues who saw me sick and pale every morning but, since they were the last to know anything, thought I might be ill.  Not my wonderful and loving husband who would have done anything for me but was so tired of rehashing the same arguments, night after night, when he should have been sleeping.

Damn I'm glad that's not me anymore.  {shudder} 

Namaste

Where The Fault Lies

Cassius:
"The fault, dear Brutus, is not in our stars,
But in ourselves, that we are underlings."

Julius Caesar (I, ii, 140-141)

Lisa Neumann over at Sober Identity wrote this incredibly inspiring post yesterday which, if you want some valuable insight, you'll read.  She really is genius.

Anyway, it got me thinking about how we are programmed, at a very young age I suspect, to react to things that happen to or around us.  Lisa writes about how, as she progressed through her drinking career, found things to be everyone else's fault. 

"It was always someone else’s fault that I hadn’t reached my potential. The sadness is … I really, really, really believed this nonsense. Denial is the word most often heard in recovery. I was in denial about who I was long before I was an active alcoholic. Alcohol was simply the substance that brought me to my knees. I could have redirected course anywhere along my path."

I find this fascinating because I can't fathom blaming anyone else for what happens to me.  I can't even fathom blaming anyone else for things that happen around me.  It always has been and always will be...my fault.  I am responsible for everything that happens to me.  While that might sound healthy and normal on the surface, down deep, where it really matters...it's (to paraphrase a poorly written but engaging and entertaining series of novels) fifty shades of fucked up.

Sometimes it's not my fault.  Sometimes things are done to me.  But when you are raised as I was, it's hard to believe that it can be anyone else's fault.  It's a very self-centered way of thinking.  Who am I to believe that I am so important that everything that happens is my fault.  Seriously?  I really am not that pivotal to the world...not even my world.  I'm just...me. 

As I get older and further into my recovery however, I find that my brethren fall into either Lisa's camp or mine.  Either it's someone else's fault or all their fault.  There are no "shades of grey" (sorry).  It's either black or white; all or nothing.

Why can't we learn to just be?  To just accept what has happened for exactly what it is, namely, a series of events that has resulted in an outcome.  Some are likely our fault, some are likely someone else's fault.  Some are just a result of the universe turning and changing, and some are just plain God doing what He does so well.  As my husband says, "It is what it is and that's all it is."

I will bravely accept responsibility for that which I am responsible.  But I don't know where to stop.  Before I know it, I'm taking on everyone elses missteps as well.  Nope...I need to learn to only own what is mine and to leave what isn't alone.  Otherwise, it's stealing and I'm just not that kind of girl.  I don't take responsiblity for good things that are done by others, why would I take on the bad stuff?

I don't have the answers but at least I'm learning to ask the questions of myself and really think about the answers.  And that is progress and that's all I can hope for because progress moves forward.

Namaste 

PS - Yes...I did quote Shakespeare and E.L. James in the same post - get over it.  I'm a complicated woman.

Roll Call

My second Whole30 isn't as...um...dramatic as the first time around.  This time is actually kind of boring.  It's like I've been eating this way all my life so now it's just...well...normal.  I'm remembering what my eating habits used to be like - minus the bread.  I've always loved bread...I still love bread but it's the way I love wine...It doesn't love me.  At least with bread if I eat some I'm not going to wake up wondering who put the little sweaters on my teeth and who I may or may not have pissed off the night before.

But to tell you the truth, I don't miss it.  Not only that...I don't miss chocolate.  After only 30 days of abstinence.  I don't know about my fellow alcoholics out there but I could NOT say that about my beloved Chardonnay after only 30 days.  At 30 days I was still trying to call myself a "problem drinker" and figuring out how long I could be abstinent before I could officially be cured and have a drink on "special occasions".  Hey, you guys know me, I tell it like it is and that was how it was.

It wasn't like that when I quit smoking.  Once the nicotine had left my system and I had gotten over my emotional addiction I was DONE.  There was no way I was going through that hell again.  No fucking way.  That was the worst withdrawal I've ever been through and I didn't want to go back.  Every day clean was one more day of healing for my lungs.

That kind of commitment didn't happen with the booze for...um...a while.  I'd say, honestly, it was after I reached a year of sobriety.  That was about the time that I figured out that I was an honest to goodness alcoholic (although, I have to admit that I still really hate that word) and that there was no going back.  I think that's when I really started to enter recovery.  It probably would have been easier if I'd gone to AA but we all have to take our own paths through this quagmire and I did what worked for me.

ANYWAY (I do tend to go on don't I) sugar has been the easiest of all.  The withdrawals were shorter (although intense) and the benefits became evident within the first two weeks.  More energy.  Better sleep.  No hunger between meals.  No ravenous hunger....well...if you've been on this thing for more than two weeks then you already know.  If you haven't, stick with it...you will.

So how are you doing?  Let's have a roll call.  Who's still in and how many days do you have under your belt?  AND...what's the best benefit you've found?

Namaste

Back To One

I am shutting down my other blog.  I thought I could handle two blogs and posting to each about different subjects but I was wrong.  Dead wrong.  Face palm wrong.

My brain just doesn't operate that way.  My thoughts flow fast and furious and, right now, everything is so interconnected that it's hard to separate, categorize, sort and then write.  Plus, my recovery from alcoholism is also about everything else in my life and so I have to be able to write freely about all of it and let the consciousness flow naturally.

That sounds way more deep than it really is.

In addition, I'm not an expert at anything.  Some say I should write a blog about raising kids because mine turned out so well.  Yeah...that's the ticket.  A recovering alcoholic who is 51 years old and is just getting her shit together???  Oh yeah...that works.  My kids are the way they are because I put them first above everything else in my life, they have an amazing, not-screwed-up dad, and we are lucky. 

That's not to say that they don't turn up in this blog from time to time because they do - but I would never put myself out there as any kind of expert on raising them and would never violate their privacy by talking about things best left at home.  For example, "There was this time when the twins went running through the house naked...."  Um...not so much.  Besides, I'm saving those stories (and the pictures) for their graduation parties and the toasts at their weddings.  I don't want to use up all the good stuff before it's time.  Heh heh heh. 

So for now I'm going to stick to writing here...about everything and anything.  I hope people keep reading and commenting (I love comments.)  When I get an email with one I get all warm and fuzzy and excited.  I don't even mind the spam and trolls.  (Is that wrong?)

So if you read this blog, thank you so much.  If you were a fan of the other one, thanks for reading and I hope you follow me here.

Namaste