Six Months and Counting

Wow. It's really been six months since I've had a drink. I've been sober for half a year.

Has it been easy? In some respects yes, in others, hell no.

My life is in upheaval. I lost my job, and money is really tight. There isn't much out there for a lowly LPN. I'm facing the prospect of no longer being able to afford the medications that keep my fibromyalgia at bay. I'm thinking about how much pain I will be in when this cycle of meds runs out, and how quickly my health will deteriorate. This terrifies and angers me. I'm still pushing my way through school to get my RN, even though I don't know how I'm going to continue to pay for it. We're counting every penny, and just praying that we don't come up short.

Do I want to drink? Yeah, sometimes I do. When I start thinking too much and start to despair, I remember how a couple glasses of wine used to shut off my brain and stop the despair in its tracks for a little while. I think about how a little shiraz took the edge off my fibro pain so that I could move and function. I think about how a couple shots of Jag in the middle of the night enabled me to fall back asleep and stop me from tossing and turning in bed all night, worrying about the future.

Oh yeah, booze helped me through a lot of tough times.

But then I think of the other side of that coin: The horrible hangovers that only more booze could cure, ignoring my children because I was too drunk to deal, the blackouts, caring about nothing more than when I could get another drink. Drunken meltdowns, idiotic arguments, thinking I was in control and making sense, only to find out that I was acting insane. Spending food money on booze. Nearly getting my car repo'd or my electricity shut off because I spent the money on booze. Half-assing my job because I was so hung over I could barely function. Keeping my hands in my lap during meetings and care conferences because they shook so badly.

Homer Simpson said it best: "Alcohol: the cause of, and answer to, all of life's problems."

I choose not to drink. I choose to live. Right now life hurts, and feeling the burn sucks ass, but the alternative to feeling it is far more dismal to me than what I'm going through.

Two men in my home group committed suicide in the last week. Both had relapsed, and the shame they felt was overwhelming. I'm quite sure both were hammered when they made the final decision that they couldn't go on.

Alcoholism is deadly. Come hell or high water, I choose to live.

Long Time No See!

Hey. How ya doin' there? Yep, it's me.

Sorry I've been under the radar for a while... I've been doin' stuff. First, I'm starting school next week, going to get my RN. So I've been busy getting prepared for that. Second, and this is the Biggie.... drumroll please.... I finished my Fourth Step!!!!!

That's right, folks. The Supreme Empress of Procrastination got off her ass, dug in, and finished her 4th step. I did a lot of soul searching, really realized what my character flaws are, and how they've contributed to my resentments, fears, and harms to others. What a huge revelation. I was surprised at some of the things I learned about myself, especially about some of my motives.

Now that I know what these flaws are, I'm ready for the 5th step: admitting to myself, God and another human being the exact nature of my wrongs. I have an appointment to do this TONIGHT. I am going to admit to this person secrets I thought I would take to my grave. Then I am going to let them go and move on with my life. I'm actually going to light my chronicle of sins on fire and give them up to God as I watch them burn.

Funny thing: as I've been working on the 4th and 5th steps, I've come to the realization that I've been working the 6th, 7th, 10th and 11th steps also. I've become entirely willing to have God remove my flaws (6), ans as I list them, I've given some of them to him immediately (7), absolutely positive that I do not want the responsibility of harboring these cancers inside my soul a minute longer. As I learn and understand what my character flaws are and what triggers me to act upon them, I pay a lot more attention to how I behave and how I react to others throughout my day. I've started looking back at the end of the day, asking myself what I did well, what I sucked at, and if there's anyone to whom I owe an apology (10). As I'm doing this daily inventory, I'm practicing the 11th step by being in conscious contact with God.

It's strange, startling and amazing how this Program unfolds, how it comes together, how it REALLY WORKS when I earnestly practice the steps to the best of my ability. Progress, not perfection.

Another super cool thing: I got a new sponsor! She is fabulous, and she has time and energy for me! What's even cooler is that apparently we've been on eachother's radar since Mike and I started in our home group. We got together last weekend and talked nonstop for three hours. This is going to be a very symbiotic relationship, I think.

So... I'm starting to get a little nervous about laying all my garbage out in front of a total stranger tonight, but it needs to be done. I need to be free of the baggage of my past so thaat I can move on and grow without the weight of past sins.

Guess what's coming down the recovery pike, though??? Making my list of people to whom I need to make amends, and then putting my money where my mouth is and actually making those amends. Can I do it? Yes I can! Do I really want to? Yes and no.

Stay tuned... this is getting interesting.

Four Months

This sobriety thing gets easier as you go along.

I find I don't think about booze very often anymore. In fact, I had a technical glitch at work last week that made me FURIOUS. One of my coworkers said, "Wow, after that I'd need a stiff drink!" I kind of laughed, because that hadn't even crossed my mind as an option or a desire. The only thing that came to my mind was, "Man, I'd like a smoke!"
I guess that's what you'd call progress.

Here's a bummer: I'm sooooo stuck on my 4th step! It was easy to make a list of people I have resentments toward, and to work through that list to discover what my part in the situation was, what part of myself was threatened, and how I contributed to the negativity of the situation. I can be pretty objective about that stuff when I'm sober. Here's the really tough thing: Delving into my fears. What they are, why they are, how I feed them. I can't do it! I cannot face my fears! Don't ask my why. I can't look at my fears without becoming emotional.

Progress, not perfection. I just have to keep telling myself that... Progress, not perfection.

Three Months!!!

Yep, three whole months. And life just keeps getting better.

I had a nightmare last week, and it seemed so real that it freaked me out. In the dream, I was at a party and someone was encouraging me to have a beer. I finally gave in and slammed the beer. Instantly, in my dream, I felt ashamed, guilty, disappointed, sad, angry, lost. Somehow I knew I had to pick up my kids, and I tried to figure out a way to sober up before I went to get them. Then I started thinking about how I'd have to confess to Mike, my sponsor, and the whole AA club. I was so ashamed of myself. So ashamed that I'd thrown away the trust, belief and reparations I'd been trying so hard to build. I saw, in my mind, the faces of those I love: Mike, heartbroken; the kids, confused, sad and mistrustful... oh, the kids..... that's what broke my heart the most.

I was so thrilled when I woke up and figured out that it was a dream. But those horrible feelings about drinking lingered for a few days.

I am more committed than ever to stay sober, and to never go back to being the selfish, inconsiderate, mean, oblivious, over-dramatic bitch I used to be. I want my partner, my kids, my friends, my coworkers, my family to be proud of me, and to have confidence in me. I want to be known as someone who can be counted on, who follows through, who is available, gentle and inviting.

This is the person I'm becoming, and this is the person I want to be.

Thank you, God, for these last three months of awakening, thank you for serenity, courage and wisdom, and thank you for the continuing and increasing clarity and understanding.

Can't wait to see what happens next.

Two Months!

Today I have been sober for 67 days. Mike too. This last month was difficult on an emotional level, but we managed to stay sober.

Sorry I haven't been very good about the updates. I've been exhausted and uninspired for a month straight. I'm in the middle of another fibromyalgia flare-up, and it really, really hurts. In the past, I drank until it didn't hurt anymore. Now all I can do is take Tylenol, which doesn't even touch the pain. I won't take Lyrica, because it has addictive properties. That's the only drug out there that can touch fibro pain, or so I've heard. Thankfully, Mike understands my pain and exhaustion and is very gentle with me, protective of me, and very caring. I appreciate him more and more as time goes on.

By the way, I got my hair bleached out. I decided it's time for a little sun and lightness in my life. I'm turning in dark and dangerous for light and fun. I've been toying with the idea of going platinum blonde for a couple months, and decided now's the time. Pictures to follow.

I've also found that three meetings a week just do not fit into my lifestyle. I'm a busy single mom, and I have errands to run and appointments to keep, on top of caring for and nurturing my children and spending time with my partner. I'm finding that two meetings a week, and sometimes only one a week, is about all I can manage without totally exhausting myself. Especially now, when I'm physically feeling like crap and all I can think of at 4 PM is going home, putting on flannel jammies, and laying on the couch to watch TV and nap and try to regain some of the strength and energy that have been sapped during my work day. My sponsor aggrees that it's okay to fit the Program into your life, instead of making your life (and everyone in it) revolve around the Program. I've seen moms who are so engrossed in the Program, that their children are kind of getting lost. One plays Texas Hold'Em at the club several times a week until midnight or 1 AM, while her 5 yr old wanders aimlessly around the room, sometimes being called on to collect or hand out poker chips. I always feel bad for that kid. Most of his life is spent up at the Alano Club, and he is getting molded into his mother's program. I wonder if it's messing him up. When does he get to do kid things? Does he have any friends who aren't recovering adult alcoholics? Does he get to play with kids his own age?

Anyhow... enough of my musings. Life is manageable, even happy a lot of the time, and I am in recovery. Two months and counting.

Yuck, but I'm proud of myself too.

One thing I have learned: I have no clue how to deal with negative emotions without drinking.

A month ago, whenever I was hurt, angry, stressed, sad, whatever, I drank until the bad feelings went away. Now I have nowhere to hide, nothing to do but FEEL it. Ouch. It does not feel good. I don't like it one bit.

I had a crappy, stressful weekend that went from bad to worse and ended hideously. Last night, I just had to get away from the apartment to sort out my head. I could not sit there one more second.

I wanted to go to Big Louie's so bad... it was Karaoke night and everything... I wanted to go so bad I could taste the Jag running down my throat. I wanted to drink my anger, hurt and feelings of betrayal into oblivion like I always have. I almost turned into the parking lot.

Almost.

Instead, I went to the Alano Club and hung out with sober, recovering people for a couple hours. One of the ladies held me while I cried and even rubbed my neck, and then I watched a group of people play Texas Hold 'Em for a while. They invited me to play, but I don't know how.

Anyhow, all that to say that I stayed sober. Thank God, I stayed sober last night.

Things don't feel any better at home, but I am still sober one more day.

Hmmmmmm.....

So my chem dep counselor is suggesting that I may have ADD. Funny, I would never have thought of myself as an ADD type... but she says that even my freakish organizational skills and anal-retentive nature could very well be my way of coping with ADD.

So I guess I'll let her test me and see what comes up... what if I end up on Ritalin or something???

While we're at it, may not be a bad idea to test Mike too.....

One Month

As of yesterday, Mike and I have been sober for one month. Yay us.

I tried that Addiction and Recovery Bible Study last Saturday... soooooo not for me. It was totally geared for people who have several years of sobriety under their belts and are sponsoring newcomers. The leader even went so far as to poke fun at newcomers for being "honeymooners" and "pink cloud people," meaning that we're so enamored with our new found sobriety that we lose touch with reality and are sure to relapse, and hit bottom hard. He went on and on about how none of his sponsees have stayed sober, and about how the more excited a newcomer is about their sobriety, the more likely he/she is to crash and burn. I was actually quite offended. I thought the guy was kind of an arrogant prick. I wanted to ask if he's ever considered the fact that his sponsees are more likely to relapse because of his own obvious douchebaggery.

His study sucked ass to boot. His Scripture references had nothing to do with his proposed topic. He rambled, got off topic, whatever the hell his topic was supposed to be, and basically ended up trying to seem super cool and special, as in, "God gave me a great gift in my ability to preach, and I'm here to share my gift with you." Yeah, Dillhole... I got your gift right here. I could've taught a more comprehensive, meaningful Bible study falling-down drunk.

And just being in the church in a capacity other than to pick up my kids made my skin crawl. Needless to say, I did not go on Sunday morning. I just could not muster it up.

Bad Christian? Yeah, probably. Am I apologizing? Hell no I'm not. Not ready is not ready. When I am ready, and that means when the thought of sitting through a Sunday morning service doesn't cause me to hyperventilate and feel like hurling, I'll get off my ass and go to church. I'll be the one who sneaks in ten minutes late, sits in the back corner with sunglasses on the whole time, and leaves the second the closing hymn starts. You'll know me by the lightning rod strapped to my back.

I know of a few people who will read this and sadly shake their heads at my spiritual depravity. Pardon my French, but those people can bite me.

Not a great day.

I started taking Campral, which is supposed to keep my cravings for alcohol down. Here's why Campral sucks:
1. It costs $35/month because there is no generic. Ouch.
2. They have to be taken 3 times a day, which puts a monkey-wrench in the flow of my day.
3. Apparently, they make me depressed, anxious, weepy, with acute feelings of dread and inability to cope. I've been crying over stupid stuff that would've rolled off my back last week, freaking out about things that I know, at heart, absolutely do not merit a freak out, and doubting everything I know.

I know it's the Campral, because nothing has happened in my life this weekend to suddenly make me take this horrible, snotty, whiny, helpless turn.

My doc told me to stop taking it immediately. She'll call me tomorrow to see what else, if anything, needs to be done. In the meantime, however, I just want to curl up on my couch in my pink flannel sock-monkey jammies with a blanket over my head and make the world go away.

My son just got suspended from school for five days for fighting. This is not the first time this has happened, but I definitely handled it differently this time. I started bawling on the phone with his teacher. I was horribly embarrassed... I hate, hate, mcHate crying in front of people. It makes me feel awkward, weak and messy. Yet I couldn't help it. I know it will all be handled, yet I just had this overwhelming feeling of defeat and despair. Then I sat and bawled at my desk for another 15 minutes once I got off the phone. So not like me.

Plus, on the back burner, I am starting to doubt my relationship with Mike. Since alcohol has been a large part of our relationship from the start, can we maintain it and grow it without booze? I really don't know. I'd like to try, but it seems so hard and kind of forced at this point. We don't know how to have fun together, be intimate or passionate, have interesting conversations, you name it without booze. We're like two strangers on an awkward first date. Do we really have what it takes to have a sober relationship? Are we right for each other when we're not in a drunken stupor? I'm seeing things in his personality that are starting to grate on me, and I can only assume he's seeing the same types of things in me.

Too many questions today. Too much to think about. I need to be quieted, soothed and stroked. With a blanket over my head, on my couch, wearing my pink flannel monkey jammies.

And some chocolate would help too.

Last week

I had a fabulous week with my kids.

My alone time with my youngest son was spent either being tutored in Godzilla Unleashed for PS2, or watching ghost hunting shows with his head on my lap and me rubbing his head. My time with my youngest daughter was spent playing Cooked or Be Cooked, Bowling or Golf on the Wii. Both kids were calmer, happier and better behaved than I've seen them in a long time. Hell, I was calmer, happier and better behaved than I've been in a long time.

On Friday, my little girl told me she's much happier to come home to me now that I'm not drinking. I'm much happier, too.

Maybe too happy. Is there such a thing???

I seem to have this freakish joy that just bubbles over all day. Even when my day is kinda crappy, I can find something to be happy about. There are a few people at work who are looking at me strangely, like I have a booger hanging from my nose or a huge zit between my eyes. I can assure you, I have neither. I check multiple times a day. But it's that, "Okay, there's something going on here, but I'm afraid it may be a huge breach of etiquette to ask you why you're grinning like a demented jack-o-lantern" look. Maybe I need to tone it down a notch... I wonder if I could....

I feel different. People are telling me I'm different. I'd love to know just how I've changed, but I'm afraid to ask.

I feel an overwhelming need to deepen my reconnection with God. I'm considering trying out an addiction/recovery Bible study this weekend. I'm even considering showing up for church on Sunday. (Crap... did I just hear thunder rolling in the distance???)We'll see what happens. Even though faith is nothing new to me, it's harder to find this time.

As for my health, I'm sleeping well, eating okay, and physically feeling much better. I've been off Ativan for a week or so, and I'm following the strict vitamin/mineral regemin my doctor prescribed. I've been trying to keep up with the Wii Fit, although I missed most of last week because I wanted to spend time with the kids instead. According to the Wii balance board (what an annoying voice that thing has), I've lost a couple pounds. This is a good thing. I have to lose about 7 more to reach my fitness goal, but I have another month to work on that. As I write this, I'm eating stale Twizzlers... I suppose that really doesn't help much.

Next Wednesday I will have been sober for 30 days. It seems so unreal. I haven't gone this long without drinking in YEARS. It feels really good to be present each and every day. Thank you, God, for this new lease on life.

Wow....

So I sat down with my two youngest kids yesterday and had a talk with them.

I apologized for all the times I've ignored them because I'd been drinking, and for all the times I got annoyed and angry with them for trying to get me to pay attention to them. I told them that they are the most important people in my life, that I love them with all my heart, and that I'm going to try to be a better mom to them.

They forgave me. They said, "At least you're not drinking anymore, Mom. Things will be better now." And they both hugged me.

Then I told them that part of my trying to be a better mom will include something called YAMA time (You And Me Alone time). Each child will have my undivided attention for 15 minutes a day, just the two of us, doing whatever activity that child chooses.

You would've thought I'd handed them each a million dollars. They each hugged me tightly, saying, "Thanks, Mom! That's the best present ever! Really? I get you all to myself? Wow, Mom! Thanks so much!" It made me feel great that they were so happy, but at the same time it made me feel like crap.

How neglected and unloved have these kids felt??? It breaks my heart to think that my kids felt unwanted and unimportant. When 15 minutes of my time seems like Christmas morning to them, what does that say about me as a mother?

I am so grateful that these children aren't holding a grudge, and that they're willing to give me another chance. I'm not going to blow this one.

TWO WEEKS SOBER TODAY!!!!

That's right. Neither Mike nor I have had a drink in TWO WEEKS. This is huge.

I've gotten through Step Three in my workbook, where I read something that really helps me grasp the idea of surrendering my will to God. It says that Step Three is simply being willing to give control of my will and my life to God. The actual surrender comes slowly as I work through the next eight steps. Okay, that I can handle. I can handle turning over a little at a time. I am willing. Three steps down, nine to go.

The next one scares the crap out of me. It involves taking a fearless, honest moral inventory. Crap. I am a degenerate... an honest inventory could take a damn long time. It will be volumes of character flaws that need to go away. And I will probably feel bad about myself in the process. I don't like feeling bad about myself.

One downfall of not drinking: I am so frickin' HUNGRY. When I was drinking, I rarely ate. I had liquid breakfasts on the weekends, no breakfast during the week, and liquid dinners almost every night. Now I am starving. I've gained a pound or two, which is entirely unacceptable. I have a damned muffin top. Yuck. I've been working out on our Wii Fit, which hopefully will help. Today my abs are burning from Super Hula Hoop, and my arms are burning from Rhythmic Boxing. I actually worked up a sweat for the first time in a long time. Doing actual exercise, anyway.

I'm picking up my little ones in about an hour. I'm excited to see them. I miss them. This is a far cry from when I was drinking; then they mainly annoyed me because they harshed my buzz. I feel bad about those times. I know I can't erase them, but I can start over and try to be a better mom. I hope my kids will forgive me enough to let me try.

Anyhow, 2 weeks sober and not looking back, except to make that damned moral inventory.....

Get this:

I'm allergic to one of the anti-anxiety drugs I've been taking! I mentioned to my doc that I have horrible nightmares every night, and that I itch all over all the time. She told me it's the stupid Buspar!!! Dammit!!! So she took me off that and put me on good ol' Trazodone for sleep. Trazodone and I have a long history... it usually works well for me. Last night I had total nightmares, and I was FREEZING all night. Poor Mike... I was trying hard to leach heat from him all night long. I think he was hanging off the edge of the bed a little cuz I kept trying to get closer.

I met with my sponsor last night after my meeting... what a great woman she is. I really think she is a good fit for me to walk me through the steps of AA and help me learn how to live sober.

Today I saw my chemical dependency counselor for the first time. I was totally, brutally honest about my alcohol use, and I made no excuses. She asked me what I am grieving, and I kind of lost it.

Know what I grieve? All the time I've lost to alcohol. All the memories. All the time with my wonderful kids. All the late-night conversations with my Love. All the time when I could've and should've been present, savoring every moment with my family, and instead all I cared about was drinking. That's what I'm mourning. That's what I've lost, and it's my own fault.

I can never get that time back, but I can start over and try to rebuild my relationships. That's what I'll be starting to work on as I work the steps to sobriety.

Another alcohol-free day, another day to learn and grow.

Today I feel...

Present. Intentional.

Does that sound weird? I feel like I'm more "here" today than I've been in a long time. I feel more aware of my surroundings, more aware of who surrounds me.

I feel more intentional in my interactions with the human beings around me. I am making more of an attempt to connect on a positive, gentle, "real" level.

Last night when we were doing our devotionals, Mike read this statement: "So we think, so we are." That got me thinking. If I am thinking mean and sarcastic, if I am thinking about others in a superior, belittling way, no matter what I think I am projecting, I am probably projecting this negative way of thinking. I like thinking mean things, I won't deny that. But I never intend to hurt or demean anyone with my evil thought life. It honestly didn't occur to me that people might be able to read me no matter how well I think I am hiding my thoughts or feelings.

I am making an effort to intentionally appreciate the good in people today. Even people I don't necessarily like. I am looking hard to find something to appreciate in the people who bug the crap out of me. This is not like me.

Could this be God showing me that He's still willing to work on me? Maybe. I think I probably need a bigger sign than a lowering desire to think mean things, if that's the case.

I know that my coworkers don't think that I appreciate them. I've recently figured this out. So, this week, I've been making an effort to take each home health aide aside to tell them privately what I like about them, and that I appreciate the hard work they do. I think it's a start. I know I have a long way to go, but it's a start.

I'm seeing my doc again in about an hour. I'm going to ask if she can give me anything to stop this incessant itching. Stupid liver. Also, I really think I'm ready to leave the Ativan out during the day, and just use it to sleep at night for a little while longer. We'll see what she says.

Anyhow, still sober, still learning the steps, still going to meetings, still trying to rendezvous with my Higher Power.

The Heathen Speaks!

Are you there, God? It's me, Boozehound...

I just can't figure out how to open up this conversation with God in which I admit that I fucked up royally and beg Him to make it all better. I got nothin'.

I turned my back on Him years ago, and have been happily living a godless life. I haven't really even missed Him.

So now that I need him to save me and fix me, how do I come crawling back and take back the last few years? How do I relearn a trust that I tried so hard to abandon? How do I reopen a relationship that I slammed shut without a single backward glance?

I don't even know where to start. Do I open the Bible (after I wipe the years' worth of dust off it)and hope that something jumps out at me? Do I get out my old Christian CDs that used to speak to me and see if anything triggers? Do I just start talking, hoping that Someone is listening, and hoping that I don't get struck by lightning? Do I seek out a "Good Christian" whom I used to trust and ask him/her where to start?

I don't know I don't know I don't know!

All I know is that we need to talk, and soon.

How's this for a start: God, if you're out there and you still love me, please help me figure out how to come back to you, and how to approach this third step to sobriety. I guess I'll just wait to hear from you...

Fatigue

Today it is entirely overwhelming. I feel like I could go home right now and sleep through until tomorrow.

Last night after work, I crashed on the couch until it was time for a meeting, then after the meeting I picked up Mike. I was still just exhausted. We took a nice, hot bath and went straight to bed. I don't think I was even awake 10 minutes once my head hit the pillow. I felt bad for Mike... I'm sure he felt kind of lonely last night... but I didn't even have it in me to carry on a conversation. I just had to crash. Then, today, it was almost impossible to wake up. I am absolutely dragging.

I guess this is to be expected, but I have so much I need/want to do that I just don't feel up to tackling. This is frustrating and crappy. I have laundry to do, meetings to attend, errands to run, appointments to keep, and all I want to do is lie down somewhere, pull a blanket over my head and sleep. I can't think straight, and every step I take feels like I'm wading through quicksand.

Coffee doesn't help at all. Caffeine just makes my eyes hurt.

I guess it's just one more crappy consequence that I have to deal with, but uuuuuuuugh. Enough already.

You know what else massively sucks?????

The constant, deep itching that comes with liver disease. It's not the kind of itching you can nonchalantly scratch away. It's a scratch-until-your-skin-is-gored-off-and-your-muscles-are-exposed itching. Nothing helps... not lotion, not Benadryl, NOTHING!!!!!!

Oh, I am such a tard for letting things get this bad.....

Day 7

Mike and I have been sober for one week! I think this is the longest I've gone without alcohol in YEARS.

After our AA meeting last night, we went out for dinner to celebrate. We've been talking a lot about how not drinking changes our relationship, changes the way we interact. Mike is a lot stronger than I am... he's always so positive. When I'm in tears, wondering how I'm going to cope, he's the one holding me in his arms, telling me that we can do this together, and that everything will be just fine.

Obviously, we have to rediscover who we are, as individuals and as a couple, without the blanket of alcohol over our minds. We have to learn how to have fun without booze. This is tough. At least we have each other... we both keep saying that neither of us could commit to sobriety the way we are without each other's support.

We bought a Wii Fit Plus yesterday... I think it will be good for us to get our bodies into shape as we get our minds and hearts back in order. Unfortunately, that stupid machine told me I should lose 10 lbs!!! Okay, okay, I have gained a few pounds since I quit smoking 6 months ago... anyhow, I'll try this Wii Fit thing and see what happens. Once the weather gets nicer (like in 6 months, stupid Minnesota), we'll be going for a lot of walks and spending more time outdoors too.

Another thing we've started doing is reading to each other from a couple of the AA devotional books: Keep It Simple and Twenty-four Hours a Day. Each one has a meditation, a thought for the day, etc. Twenty-four Hours a Day has a daily prayer, and Keep It Simple has a daily action. The funny thing was that, last night, the page Mike read was what I really needed to hear, and the page I read was something he really needed to hear. So, today I am trying to pray for faith, and Mike is trying to accept and embrace change. I hope he's doing a better job with his task than I am.

Anyhow, another sober day, and another day to relearn.

Day 6 - Okay, Higher Power...

I think I'm about ready to deal with you. Not today, though. I think I have some things to say, and I think we can come to some understanding about my relinquishing some control. But before I deal with that:

RICKETS?????? REALLY???????? I'm not homeless, I don't live in a third world country, yet I have severe rickets. Look it up sometime. It's pretty pathetic. That's what I get for choosing to have Jagermeister for dinner and Bloody Beers for breakfast on a regular basis. One of these days I'm gonna be walking down the street, and that creepy bearded guy from Save the Children is going to sidle up alongside me and ask people to contribute pennies a day to cure my malnutrition. FML.

I just can't believe I fucked myself up so very royally. I mean I guess I can... I never do anything small. I do everything in life in a huge, loud, excessive, obsessive/compulsive way. So I guess it stands to reason that I can't just go, "Huh. I think I'll stop drinking," and quietly hit up AA. NOoooooooooo. I have to totally fry my liver and wreck my metabolic system, which will take months to improve. If I can't stay away from booze, I will be strong-armed into in-patient treatment.

RICKETS?????? REALLY?????????? I felt like such a boob when I looked up Vitamin D deficiency. I'm a total retard for letting my life get so out of hand.

Day 5

And now the depression sets in. The dreaded emotional volatility I've been warned of. The crying at the drop of a hat over things that shouldn't matter.

Last night I was trying to tell Mike about my doctor's visit and about my fears about the mounting costs and co-pays on the way to the grocery store. There's a stupid 4-way stoplight right by Rainblow that is ALWAYS empty at 9:30 at night, so I frequently just coast through it. As I'm trying to talk to Mike, I coast through the light as usual, and he interrupts me and makes a comment about the fact that I ran the red light again. Well, I lost it.

I clammed up, started to cry, and cried on and off for the rest of the night. I just felt despondent and depressed.

This all seems so stupid... even now, writing about it, knowing how ridiculous it all sounds, I'm tearing up. He apologized and everything last night, but I'm still a snotting, whining mess.

Last night my doctor called me "fragile." That's hardly a word most people would use to describe me. I didn't like the sound of it, and I still don't. The thing that sucks is that, right now, it's an entirely accurate description. I am an emotional mess. An overly-sensitive, touchy, weepy, irritable, vulnerable, weak, snot-dripping, chin-quivering, whining emotional mess. Yuck.

Poor Mike... he's going through the whole withdrawal thing too, but he's handling things much better than I am. I hate that he has to deal with my issues on top of his own stuff. He told me that his way of getting through cravings is to think about me and my failing liver, and how it's so much worse for me than for him. That's not okay with me. He should be thinking of himself, taking care of himself, not putting himself second to me. I should be supporting him, not wallowing in my own "fragility."

We're going to our home group AA meeting tonight. Maybe I'll get some gleaning of wisdom on how to work through this crappiness without dragging my boyfriend down into Snot City with me.

Today I am not drinking. I am a whimpering mess, but I am a sober whimpering mess.

Do you want the good news, or the bad news???

Good news: My MRI hasn't changed since the last one, so no MS.

The bad news: Alcoholic liver disease, pernicious anemia and extreme Vitamin D deficiency (Rickets). Now I'm on huge doses of Vitamin D and Vitamin B12, along with all the anti-anxiety stuff I'm already on to control alcohol withdrawal. And double-doses of multivitamins and calcium daily.

The somewhat good news: All my current acute health problems have symptoms like the ones that have been attributed to possible MS. Some of this crap may be able to be corrected, and may have nothing to do with neurological disease at all. After 6 years of tests, some pretty humiliating, for every neuro disease under the sun...

Crappy: I have to check in with my doc weekly for the next month (at $30 a pop) and have lots of labs drawn to see if my B12/D levels are coming up and if my liver levels are going down. Plus I'll be seeing a drug/alcohol counselor (also @ $30 a pop), probably weekly, for god knows how long. Plus I have 6 new prescriptions ($10 each, $60/month) that I'll have to take to get healthy.

Yay, drinking! Oh Jagermeister... father, brother, secret lover... you were so worth all this shit.

Day 5

I went to a great meeting last night. There was a guy there getting his 30 year medallion THIRTY FRICKIN' YEARS!!!!! Here's his big secret: "I'm just not going to drink today. Maybe tomorrow I will, but not today. I can't worry that far ahead. I know it sounds like a cliche, but I'm proof it's true. I've had 30 years of single days at a time." So fricking simple... yet too much to wrap my head around. Really??? Could it all be that easy??? Could I really one-day-at-a-time my way into 30 years or sobriety? I'd like to think so...

Mike and I are still trying to find ways to keep our booze-less evenings from getting boring and retarded. We've been drinking hot tea and chatting, and it's still been good, but I have such a fear of becoming boring. So far so good, but we're only a week in... Dear God, don't let us become a boring couple with nothing to say to each other...

I have another MD appointment in an hour... maybe I'll get the results of my MRI and find out whether or not I have MS. I have a feeling this appt is more to keep tabs on my rampant alcoholism, however...

Thank you.

From the very depths of my heart, thank you to all my friends and family who have offered words of love and support. Your concern and gentleness has touched me deeply, brought me to tears, and made me realize how very lucky I am to not have to fight this battle alone.

When I was a child, I was convinced that Witchiepoo from H.R. Puffinstuff was in my closet, ready to jump out and claw my eyes out when I fell asleep. My older sister would get up, look in the closet, and pretend to chase Witchiepoo away for the night. I remember many nights falling asleep holding her hand. As she said in a reply to my Facebook message, this is, by far, my biggest Witchiepoo yet, and this one ain't so easy to chase away.

With the love and support of my friends and family, I just might be able to scare this one off myself someday.

I'm not a lesbian, but I play one on TV...

Maybe I took the Power Dyke look too far. A new home health aide who's training in just asked one of my coworkers if I'm gay. Nice.

Day 4

One week ago today I saw my doc and she informed me that I couldn't drink anymore. There the journey begins.

Last night I fell asleep totally defeated and woke up feeling small and powerless. I couldn't figure out what to do to get my mojo back for the day, and then it hit me: Dress How You'd Like To Feel.

So I went Power Dyke.

I put on a black business suit with a brightly-colored scarf, stiletto-heeled leather ass-kicking boots, lots of eyeliner, and dark lipstick. That, along with the short purple hair, screamed, "Don't fuck with me, bitches!" It did start to make me feel better almost immediately.

I still want a drink, though.

I'm going to a meeting tonight. It's the same group as the first meeting I ever went to, so I feel good about it. I'm actually looking forward to it. And it coincides with my kids' church schedule, so it works out even better.

One more sober day, one more day of "working the program", even though I'm still not sure what all that means.

Day 3 - I think I'm in the wrong room...

So I find that there are AA meetings just blocks from where I work, and on my lunch hour no less. I decide to check one out.

I felt like I needed to take a shower by the time I left.

It was a handful of old, grimy dudes who looked like they live in empty Kenmore boxes under bridges, and most of them had to have slips filled out by the moderator to show their parole officers that they were actually there. They smelled funny, and none of them could hold a coherent thought. There was indeed a topic at hand, but none of them could stick to it to save their souls. All they wanted to talk about was how much they love to drink, and how much they hate their halfway houses.

I couldn't wait to get out of there! The one guy there who I thought might be in kind of the same situation as me (normal person trying to squeeze in a meeting during lunch) kinda looked like that creepy Shamwow/Slapchop guy from the infomercials, and when he opened his mouth he started sounding like the Shamwow guy on crystal meth. Lord, help me.

I used probably a half bottle of hand sanitizer when I got back to the office, and I will never set foot in that building again. Ew. Ew. EEEEEEEEEWWWWWW.

The crappier thing is, I felt so deflated. Defeated. And all I could think about the rest of the day was how much I wanted a nice, big glass of rich red wine. I could not get the thought out of my head.

I went to get my hair done last night, which usually makes me feel great. Last night it didn't, because all I could think about was how much I wanted a drink. My hair looks fabulous as usual, but all I could see was a hopeless drunk with awesome hair. No swagger, no warm, happy feeling. Just, "Wow. it looks great. I need a drink."

So I went home, and Mike and I sat and watched TV while I cried. He rubbed my feet to try to make me feel better, but it didn't help. All I could think about was that I was starting to loathe the russian tea, and would much rather have a glass of shiraz.

Then my ex called, and it was a really depressing conversation. He's miserable, and things aren't going that well for him. I wanted to be helpful, wanted to be sympathetic, but I just couldn't muster much up because I am so miserable myself. I felt so horrible. Here he's coming to me for support, and all I can think about is that my liver is failing, I'm malnourished and anemic, my hands are shaking, I'm nauseated, I'm depressed, and I need a drink. I really, really need a drink. I probably have MS, and I want a drink. I'm sorry you're hurting. I need a drink.

You get the picture.

These steps!

1. Admit that I am powerless over alcohol, and that my life has become unmanagable.
Check.
2. Come to believe that a Power greater than myself can restore me to sanity.
Ummmmmmm.....
3. Make a decision to turn my will and my life over to God as I understand him.
Whoa, whoa, whoa!

Yes, I am powerless over alcohol. Yes, my life is unmanageable.

Yes. I believe there is a God. Obviously my Lone Ranger status has not been working wonders for me, and I most likely need a hell of a lot more help than mere mortals can offer.

Turn everything over to God "as I understand him?" Okay, now we have a problem. See, I DON'T understand God. There was a time I thought I did, thought he and I were on the same page, and then I decided to study theology. Now I know nothing, understand nothing. God and I have not been on speaking terms for MORE THAN TWO YEARS. How do I turn everything over when my faith is shot and I am distrustful of everything religious? How am I to be expected to hand over control to a God who is fine with letting people run about willy-nilly, spouting whatever sounds good at the time?

Telling me to go back to the Bible opens up a whole new can of worms. After spending two years picking apart the Canon, how it was formed, how it was translated, etc... you have no idea how very skeptical I am of the fact that The Bible as we know it is truly the living, immutable Word of God.

So, tell me this... how do I continue this journey in this vein? Do I remain stuck here until I come to some profound, divine revelation, or do I try to crawl under the radar of this part of it? Or do I accept that God is not my Higher Power at this point and choose a proxy?

I want to figure this out, I really do. How do I "Let go and let God" when I've turned my back and mistrusted him for years?

I want to dive into this stuff, really do the steps, really work the program, really recover... but I'm so stuck on this ONE HOOK!!!

Day 2 - Ativan and Hot Tea

This is the longest I've gone without alcohol in my system in several years. Thanks to my new best friend, Ativan, and Buspar the Bouncer, the nausea, vomiting, violent shaking and hallucinations I experienced the last time I tried to quit aren't happening. As soon as I start to get twitchy, nervous or agitated I just pop a 1/2 tab and all's right with the world.

Today my son woke up hurling, so he couldn't go to school. Consequentially, I couldn't go to work. I was bummed, because I can't afford the lost wages, but it also allowed me time to make some calls about treatment and get some stuff put into place.

One, I am definitely not even doing facility-based outpatient treatment. That will run me $1000 BEFORE my insurance kicks in, and I would have to have the cash up front! Like who has a cool grand laying around their house for just such an occasion??? Not someone who would rather drink than eat, I can tell you that. so ix-nay to treatment.

However, I made a couple other calls and found out that I can get office-based chemical dependency counseling for just the office copay cost. Yeah, I'd much rather shell out $30 per session than shell out a grand I don't even have! My first appointment is next week.

I also asked the wonderful lady who took me to my first AA meeting if she'd sponsor me, and she said she would. I think she and I have a lot in common as far as where we are in life with kids/career/relationships etc, except that she's way more sober than I am. I'm looking forward to getting to know her and learning from her.

Tonight I'm going to another AA meeting. The kids can tag along... there's a great room with vending machines and couches and such... I figure they can bring their Game Boys and books and entertain themselves for an hour...

Last night...

Last night was strange. Mike and I put the kids to bed as usual, turned on the Yule Log on TV as usual, dimmed the lights... but there were no glasses of wine to reach for. We weren't sure how to start out the conversation without it. This was a big, scary first. I ended up making hot tea, just so we'd have a beverage to sip on. We got out our Big Books and read Bill's Story out loud and then discussed it. In case you don't know, Bill was one of the founders of AA. It talked about all the times he decided to quit, only to end up with a drink in his hand and a load of troubles to clean up. The story detailed how he finally figured out how to kick booze for good, and how these ideas have helped millions do the same. It was an inspiring read.

Then Mike and I talked about the things we're afraid of in living sober. My fears are not being as funny or interesting, not being as bold or daring, and losing that connection with Mike... my fear that those late night conversations that keep us so in tune with one another might not happen, or may feel forced. He fears not having the power to say no when around the drinking side of the family. He's afraid of having to explain the fact that he's an alcoholic to his relatives. Those aren't conversations I'm relishing either.

I wonder how well Mike will do this whole thing... I'm encouraging him to find a sponsor, but it's hard for him to get to meetings and appointments since he can't drive yet. I think maybe he's holding off until he has more freedom to get around, or maybe he's just not as gung-ho about making this change as I am. One of my fears is that he's doing it more for me than for himself, since I have health issues caused by my drinking. I really hope that's not the case, because it could eventually drive us apart. I really want him to succeed, for himself, not for me.

Anyway, we talked until about 11:30, and then I had to ask him a very strange question: "What time do we usually go to bed?" See, I pretty much passed out every night for the past two years, and Mike put me to bed, so I honestly had no idea. He chuckled and answered, "Usually right about now." I actually remember turning off lights, getting ready for bed, climbing under the covers and finding the man I love and snuggling up with his arms around me. So ordinary, but in so many ways, so new. Saying goodnight, saying I love you, kissing goodnight before sleep finds you. I think this is the way it's supposed to be.

I wonder where my friend Alice's recipe for Russian Tea is? I think it may replace Tisdale Shiraz as our late-night conversation drink. I think I'll go look for it...

Day 2, still sober, starting to put a plan into place.

Day 1

Last night Mike and I said goodbye to alcohol, and let me tell you, we did it in our usual style.

We went to our usual licka stow and got 2 bottles of wine. Not the usual $3 Tisdale that we've come to love... no, we went with a nice Palo Alto and our favorite Fuego. Here's the stupid thing: walking up to the counter, I started tearing up a little. Over Wine. It felt like some kind of bittersweet breakup. Mike rubbed my back and said we'd be just fine, but I couldn't keep it together. I went out to the car to wait. I felt so stupid. This is going to be a lot harder than I thought.

We enjoyed our last 2 bottles on wine by the roaring yule log on TV. I don't remember a whole lot... just good conversation, good wine and quiet.

Then somehow I went into the kitchen, fell, and dented the dishwasher with my head. Tadaaaaaa!!!!! See??? THIS is why I can't drink anymore.

It sucked, but it was like putting an exclamation mark on the end of a sentence: "And now you are DONE!!!" Tadaaaaaa!!!!

There are other reasons I can't drink: my liver is enlarged and damaged. My labs are all out of whack because of poor nutrition, mainly because I would often rather drink than eat. My fibromyalgia is out of control, and my doc can't get it under control while I'm drinking. I have to go back to school to get my RN in order to keep my job, and I won't pass if I'm loaded. I have risked getting picked up for DUI more times than I can count... I'm just one of the lucky few who never got caught. I've said things and done things under the influence that I would never in a million years have said or done sober. Things of which I am deeply ashamed.

Mainly, I want control of my life back. I hate forgetting entire conversations, even forgetting that I saw someone at the bar and talked for an hour. I hate knowing Mike and I made love the night before, but not remembering. I hate knowing that Mike had to put me to bed because I passed out. I hate thinking about the time I've lost with my kids. I hate driving to work every day with a hangover. I hate getting the shakes every day around noon. I hate knowing that my life revolves around that next drink. I am a control freak, and I am not okay with this much of my life having escaped my control. I want it all back.

Here are my fears on Day One: Can I do this? Will I fail miserably? Will the physical withdrawal kick my ass? How am I going to make time for AA meetings with all the things going on in my life? Will I still be funny? Will I still be likable? Will I still be attractive? Will I be interesting? Will I still find life interesting, funny and fun? Will I be less tolerant of others if I don't have the booze to take the edge off?

That Big Book stares me in the face all the time... I want to start reading it, but something is holding me back. Is it fear? I think it is. I want to go to a meeting today, but just don't know how I'm going to swing it with the kids. I suppose I could ask the ex to keep them a little while longer today.... but that doesn't seem fair.... although, someone at the meeting I went to on Friday said, "Sobriety comes first. Always." I'll have to think about that one.

So, for today I am sober. For today I'm not going to drink. Today I'm going to "work the steps," as the AA folks say, even though I'm not sure what those steps entail.

Hi. My name is Donna, and I'm an alcoholic.

Hardest words I've ever said out loud. Words that brought out all my shame, self-hatred, embarrassment, fear, insecurity. Control freaks like myself don't like to admit we can't control things. We'd rather die than be at the mercy of someone/something else. Yet, here I stand, forced to admit that I am powerless over alcohol, and that my life has become unmanagable.

I'd been feeling for weeks that I wanted to stop drinking. I knew alcohol was controlling me, not the other way around. I'd go to parties and drink until I did or said something foolish or just passed out. I could never have just a couple drinks. I slammed the booze until it was gone or I got cut off, or I passed out. I drank alone, I drank with friends, I drank with strangers, I just DRANK.

My first thought every day on my way to work was wondering how long it would take for my hangover to go away, and if anyone would be able to smell booze oozing out of my pores. The rest of the day, my next drink was always in the back of my mind. I couldn't wait to get home and slam that first beer to stop my hands from shaking.

The shakes usually started around lunch time, and progressively got worse until I got home and started drinking again. I'd feel jumpy, sick to my stomach, and just overall miserable.

The final straw for me was the night I got wasted and fell into the Christmas tree. Ornaments everywhere, bent branches, crushed boxes. My wonderful boyfriend, Mike, cleaned up after me and made sure everything was back to normal. He and I were the only ones who knew what happened. However, the idea that I could've wrecked Christmas for my hopeful, innocent children make me sick to my stomach. How do you explain to a child that her keepsake ornament from her dead grandma is cracked, and the present she so carefully picked out for her Daddy, wrapped and put under the tree, is destroyed because Drunk Mom got a little wild? Luckily, neither of those things happened, but the "what if" was killing me. I kept picturing my kids' sad looks of disappointment, and it made me want to throw up.

So I went to my doctor last week for help. I know I will never stop drinking without help, and I knew that if I went to Jeanne she would hold me accountable and help me quit. She helped me formulate a plan: Ativan 3 times a day to control the shakes, Buspar to control the depression that will hit once all the alcohol is out of my system, and weaning off alcohol slowly over a few days to avoid hallucinations and convulsions. Along with that, a meeting with a chemical dependency counselor to research my treatment options, and Alcoholics Anonymous.

I've been weaning down the booze, have done everything she told me to do. I've been to 2 AA meetings, and even bought the Big Book. I met with the counselor, who recommended a chem eval and outpatient treatment, which I am looking into.

Where is Mike in all this? Right alongside me. My wonderful man has also come to the conclusion that his drinking is out of control, and we are walking this road together. He went to an AA meting with me last night, and it was a really good experience for both of us.

So tonight we are saying goodbye to alcohol. We are buying one last good bottle of wine, savoring it together, and then turning our backs on alcohol once and for all. We are nervous and scared, but we both know we have each other.

I'm taking the first step on this long journey, and I don't know exactly where it will lead. All I know is that I will try my best to be brutally honest, and I will try, as always, to keep my evil sense of humor alive. Wish me Bon Voyage, and don't get too far behind... you just might miss something!