4:50 am. 88 posts to go? Are ya’ kiddin’ me? No. you’re doing it. Hell or high-water as mom used to say. Every day. No excuses. OK.
Sleep is really important. For everyone:
“Twenty-four hours of sleep deprivation can lead to conditions in healthy persons similar to the symptoms of schizophrenia.” University Bonn- Science Daily 7/7/14
Been hospitalized 3 times. All locked ward kind of hospital. Once at 26 after taking a few inhales of a joint laced with angel dust (didn’t know about the angel dust) which messed with my internal clock. And then again both Decembers 2009 & 2010- the aftermath of a manic episode triggered by the anti anxiety drug Lexapro (prescribed) that began in 2007. Funny. In ’07 I was able to get my sleep pattern back (with the help of my most excellent Dr.) and got to skip the fun on the ward that year.
Each hospitalization was preceded by an extended lack of sleep. In ’07 I was diagnosed with an underlying bipolar disorder. Told it was made more severe by the prescribed crap and that “it”would require a cocktail of psychotropic drugs to manage. For the rest of my life. Thanks.
But no thanks
Alcoholics can display a wide range of psychiatric disorders. A lot of the time if you take away the alcohol the disorder goes away as well.
I began this post to give myself permission to just show up -“Hi, I’m here, but I’m not posting tonight”- not to post anymore than that when I’m really tired. Bone tired. Being on the computer at night affects my sleep. The mornings are my time for prayer, exercise and daily mass. Then I go to work.
I’m sure I’ll find a rhythm. God? help. please. soon.
So for now, during the work week, I give myself permission.
Just show up.
I shouldn’t be here. I really shouldn’t. I don’t mean sitting here sober, I mean living and breathing. Should have been called home more scary times than I care to give thought to- but I will. Give lots of thought. Because it will keep my “forgetter” disabled as does posting on this blog and reading Belle and now that I’ve explored the sober community here I’ve got loads of inspiration.
The first 19 years of my drinking. 12-31 years of age. I feel a little sick even going there right now. Blackouts were normal. Driving during blackouts was too. Putting my young self in compromising and promiscuous positions got me real bad. Bouts of violence- mostly with the current boy/man in my life. Me against him. But the walls, glass table tops, anything within reach was also at risk of being smashed. I was trying to self destruct but it came out at everyone and everything around me. Yeah, anger’s like that.
You know I have never gotten a DUI/DWI? I’ve never killed anyone either driving drunk……that I know of.
Then add in the drugs. At least they were somewhat safer in terms of purity than the street drugs available now. So my first bout with sobriety at 31 left me asking…… why?
am I still here?
Just thought I’d show up. Still here but bone tired. Today was rough but I handled things like someone else. Someone steady, calm and in control of her emotions. wow. Only got cranky and snappy once instead of what would have easily been too many times to count. Not even the interior grumbling. I was actually happy and joking with customers in the midst of chaos. And I didn’t even hear the wine calling. Miracle.
The last two weeks of official summer. In the shop, it’s a fine food frenzy for those hosting end of summer soirees…. wonder how you get that little mark that’s supposed to be above the first e. I’m fixated on trying to figure that out and it’s really not a good time. Great analogy for how I can obsess about something that doesn’t amount to squat.
Moving on… the specialty food business is as about as challenging as you can get if staying sober is the goal. I’ve been working at this shop for 6 years and managed to keep sober for the first year. Once I gave in to the alcohol call, I continued to go to meetings but constantly raising my hand every other day, as Day 1, got old quick. I lasted another year but eventually gave up. But I didn’t just go off into the sunset drinking. I knew I needed God more than ever.
He knew it too.
I’m sitting here all critical and judging of this post so I’m putting the critic to bed before she deletes it. Frustrated. Bone tired is not good for staying sober.
It’s like there’s 10 people in my head and they see that my eyes are beginning to open and they all want their chance to be heard. Mass confusion. No raising of hands, taking turns. If I could just reach inside my brain and heart and grab it all- throw it out on a great big canvas in front of me. Seems it would much easier to sort through and put in order. All those fragmented and disjointed thoughts vying for my utmost, creating overwhelm.
I am going to try to write “morning pages” again. Used to write them but as with any other good habit it fell away. Good habits have been so hard to sustain while the bad ones seem effortless.
I shared this project with 4 friends for accountability. BFF type friends. Now I just need to make sure I am writing for me and not them. Not be afraid to say something I need to say because “what would so and so think!”. Yes I can see that happening.
“Little me” wants to be clever and cute. I would rather be honest and authentic.
Do I really know how?
I woke up at 4am this morning with adrenaline pumping. Drink dream. Salvador Dali like drink dream. I don’t know if I drank or not. I poured myself a seltzer and went out on my deck with a journal. I journaled for about 10 years a long time ago and one day pulled them out to read and all I read was “poor, poor, pitiful me crap”….. 10 long years worth. I think it was around journal 8 or 9 that I just ripped every one of them apart. Probably should’ve saved them for later. Possibly a few nuggets were worth saving but at the time I just didn’t have it in me to dig through the garbage.
I haven’t really written much since.
I’m keeping tonight short and sweet because I’m exhausted. Eat dinner. Go to bed and read although I’m pissed that I left my iPad at work. Haven’t read Belle’s blog yet today and I’m too tired to sit in front of this screen.
BTW, I need to mention she has the best sober site I’ve found. The one that got me here. It’s called- tired of thinking about drinking. Here.
I think wolfie’s at the door. The back door. Sneaky devil dog he is.
I took the recyclables out a few minutes ago and I don’t remember ever not having even 1 wine or beer bottle among the other stuff. Usually it’s 3, most times it’s more. At times maybe even lots more. It’s been a lovely weekend with chores and pleasure in balance. I actually woke up this morning thinking it was Monday because time has really seemed to slow down. Definitely more in the moment.
Yesterday was a little rough but just in the sense that physically and mentally I felt all hee-bee jee-bee like. No desire to drink (so grateful for that) but just like I wanted to unzip my skin and step out of it. But this is what I don’t get- I realized that feeling was familiar just not to the degree I was feeling it and in the past, at the first hee bee I would be heading for the packie. I don’t feel deserving of any pats on the back because there were no cravings to get through- just kind of like a physical, mental and emotional withdrawal.
I have prayed my butt off for probably a good 7 or 8 years or so to have this obsession removed. No good fortune there and I just figured He was saying to me like He said to Paul-“My grace is sufficient for you“.
I feel like I’m experiencing His grace right now to be 7 days without wine and no whining. I’m also waiting for the ease of all of this to end. And if I give that thought space in my head it won’t come to any good. Right now it’s grace.
Actually I am surprised by the ease with which I came to day 5 which as it turns out ended in Friday night. I was amazed first off that I did not go directly from the shop where I work (specialty food…more about that later) to the “packie” (CT lingo for package store) and pick myself a nice bottle of wine. I mean this was Friday night. Secondly, I didn’t have the slightest interest. Not only lack of interest but a touch of repulsion at the thought. I firmly believe what is different this time is that all week I had been reading a sober blog by an amazing woman. It was her first 30 day journey without alcohol and she blogged every day. Her posts were so matter of fact and down to earth and insightful. Raw honesty.
I could relate so well that it kept my “forgetter” from working. You know how easy it is to forget the crap, especially with regard to alcohol?
Well day 6, Saturday is here and it’s around 2pm. Suddenly some anxiety and emotions I can’t quite get a handle on are emerging. Feel like crying. Scared? Apprehensive? Buyers remorse with regard to the 100 Day Sober Challenge I signed on for? Hope not. I knew earlier in the week it wouldn’t all be as easy as it seemed now. I had set up this blog last night so I’d be good to go today. When those feelings hit me, I was running errands and just tried to distance myself from them until I could get home and write my first post. Although I’m still feeling all those emotions, posting has definitely calmed me. Now I think I’ll go sit with them and listen to them and see what they are trying to tell to me.
And I promise to be kind to myself.
So….. this IS the beginning.