I'd like to take this moment to talk about something's that has been bothering me. At Target, in the concession area, there hangs a poster close to the fountain pop. Some probably walk by without noticing a thing. Not me, no not me at all. You see, it's a giant blown up poster of a glass of coke. Not just any glass of coke. Hell, the untrained eye may even mistake it for a root beer. I'll let you in on a little secret. Its a Rum and Diet Coke. Its caramel color proves it's mixed to perfection. It's life size bubbles of carbonation almost tickle my nose as I walk by it. There's just enough ice. Some days I think it may even whisper my name. Me going through Target and seeing that Van Gogh is like a dehydrated poor soul in the desert seeing a mirage.
The color of a drink can tell you a lot. You should really pay more attention to them. If your drink is less than that caramel color and more like the color of a beer, it is 'burnt'. This is a term use when you first arrive at a bar and the tender mixes your first drink way to strong. There's roughly 3 oz. of alcohol in a burnt drink. These drinks actually serve a purpose too. The bartender uses this as bait. It screams, "We'll take care of you!" What the patron doesn't realize, whether sober upon arrival or not, the tender will wean you off slowly because the drunker you get, the less you can taste. If the drink is dark and syrup-looking, this is very weak. There is hardly any alcohol in these drinks. These are served to the drunken veteran to save the bartender's butt when he drives home. It you are served a dark drink when you first arrive at a bar, either the bar tender doesn't like you, they're giving you a hint to leave, or their just really cheap.
So next time you are in a bar, look around. You can tell who's comin' and who's going just by the color of their drink. It took years of practice to see these things you know. It just doesn't come to you overnight. So don't be hard on yourself if you're not the 'drink whisperer' your next trip to the saloon. This is how I know the color of the 'coke' at Target is all wrong.
I thought I'd lighten today's mood with a little alcoholic humor. I thought I'd give everyone a break and make this one short and sweet. I promise tomorrow will bring more tears and sorrow. This is Survivor signing out. Bring it on Day 8!
Wednesday, March 31, 2010
Tuesday, March 30, 2010
Day 6
Life without alcohol is so relaxing and laid back. I'm finally feeling some benefits I've been seeking. I'm never in a hurry. I'm never rushed or anxious. I don't mind if I have to stay a little longer or be up a little later. I'm not worried about that next drink all the time.
For years, I've felt guilty because I'd cut family gatherings short. I'd miss the opportunity to visit with my dear elderly great aunts because I 'had to get home'. On Day 1 I not only got to visit with my great aunts, I had the pleasure of driving them home to their retirement village. I even got the grand tour of their apartments. This has been on my procrastination list for years! Alcoholics are some of the worst procrastinators.
Arriving at their apartment felt great. I was eager to see what was inside. Were their apartments similar to what their homes were like? I had this picture in my head of each. Both were delightful memories from when I was a child.
The first stop was humbling. She proudly showed me her little apartment, even the bathroom and bedroom. It was all one needed, so simple and quaint. Neither of them ever married or had children. It wasn't as cluttered as I remembered. Just a simple shrine of old black and white wedding photos of her parents nestled near some religious artifacts decorated her shelves. What a relaxing life. Just my great aunt, her memories, and clearly the Lord. I think my other great aunt sensed my disappointment as they dismissed me. She asked me if I'd like to see her apartment just a few doors down. I told her I'd be delighted. As we entered her apartment it was just as I imagined! She always had very feminine taste. Curio cabinets full of crystal, doilies, and China dazzled the room. It was like I had entered the story 'A Cup of Christmas Tea'.
Her bedroom had a ruffled peach bed spread. Her vanity had an antique hand-held mirror and matching comb and brush, and a quiet old lady whispering hush. Sorry, I got a little carried away there. I've never wrote anything like this before, so I often feel so 'cheesy' when I use descriptive writing, hence the sarcasm from 'Goodnight Moon'. Focus. Continue. She too had a religious shrine near her nightstand. It had a beautiful picture of Jesus, a braided palm, and a prayer. That's it! The missing link! The wonderful women didn't need things to fulfill their lives, they just needed the Lord. One of the 12 steps of recovery is surrendering to a higher power. I get the hint Lord. I have a lot of work to do.
Now, back to my version on 'A Cup of Christmas Tea'. I complimented my great aunt's amazing collections. One curio was filled with hundreds of bells. Some were crystal, some gold, and most from her travels around the world. Priceless! The other was filled with years of heirlooms. One serving dish was actually given to her by her own grandmother. What precious treasures. She couldn't believe my reaction. If she only knew I spent hours admiring similar pieces at antique shops and estate auctions.
She slowly reached down and gently lifted a piece from the cabinet. It was a beautiful white glass candy dish. It was a 'Fenton' with raised bumps on the outside, three legs, and a ruffled brim. She told me I should have it. I couldn't believe it! What a wonderful gift that I will treasure forever. An heirloom from my Great Aunt Marie. A reminder and a symbol from Day 1 of my amazing journey.
For years, I've felt guilty because I'd cut family gatherings short. I'd miss the opportunity to visit with my dear elderly great aunts because I 'had to get home'. On Day 1 I not only got to visit with my great aunts, I had the pleasure of driving them home to their retirement village. I even got the grand tour of their apartments. This has been on my procrastination list for years! Alcoholics are some of the worst procrastinators.
Arriving at their apartment felt great. I was eager to see what was inside. Were their apartments similar to what their homes were like? I had this picture in my head of each. Both were delightful memories from when I was a child.
The first stop was humbling. She proudly showed me her little apartment, even the bathroom and bedroom. It was all one needed, so simple and quaint. Neither of them ever married or had children. It wasn't as cluttered as I remembered. Just a simple shrine of old black and white wedding photos of her parents nestled near some religious artifacts decorated her shelves. What a relaxing life. Just my great aunt, her memories, and clearly the Lord. I think my other great aunt sensed my disappointment as they dismissed me. She asked me if I'd like to see her apartment just a few doors down. I told her I'd be delighted. As we entered her apartment it was just as I imagined! She always had very feminine taste. Curio cabinets full of crystal, doilies, and China dazzled the room. It was like I had entered the story 'A Cup of Christmas Tea'.
Her bedroom had a ruffled peach bed spread. Her vanity had an antique hand-held mirror and matching comb and brush, and a quiet old lady whispering hush. Sorry, I got a little carried away there. I've never wrote anything like this before, so I often feel so 'cheesy' when I use descriptive writing, hence the sarcasm from 'Goodnight Moon'. Focus. Continue. She too had a religious shrine near her nightstand. It had a beautiful picture of Jesus, a braided palm, and a prayer. That's it! The missing link! The wonderful women didn't need things to fulfill their lives, they just needed the Lord. One of the 12 steps of recovery is surrendering to a higher power. I get the hint Lord. I have a lot of work to do.
Now, back to my version on 'A Cup of Christmas Tea'. I complimented my great aunt's amazing collections. One curio was filled with hundreds of bells. Some were crystal, some gold, and most from her travels around the world. Priceless! The other was filled with years of heirlooms. One serving dish was actually given to her by her own grandmother. What precious treasures. She couldn't believe my reaction. If she only knew I spent hours admiring similar pieces at antique shops and estate auctions.
She slowly reached down and gently lifted a piece from the cabinet. It was a beautiful white glass candy dish. It was a 'Fenton' with raised bumps on the outside, three legs, and a ruffled brim. She told me I should have it. I couldn't believe it! What a wonderful gift that I will treasure forever. An heirloom from my Great Aunt Marie. A reminder and a symbol from Day 1 of my amazing journey.
Monday, March 29, 2010
Day 5
When you quit anything that has been a part of your life for 15 years, it's just like grieving the loss of a dear friend. It's bittersweet. It's also like grieving the loss of family member you held resentment against but never had a chance to make amends or say goodbye. Almost every memory, good or bad, is somehow linked to my old friend. In fact, when I decided to say goodbye for good and went on mission 'find the flasks' around my house, I actually considered a funeral. I threw away each bottle. I actually felt bad. I even took a picture of them in the garbage. I thought they deserved a little better after all we had been through. Alcohol tucked me into bed every night. It was my date to every wedding, gathering, dinner, party, graduation, and every holiday for many years. It comforted then numbed my thoughts when I was upset, sad, lonely, or mad. It was the first to know when it was time to celebrate anything great that happened. If someone died, it held a toast to celebrate that person's life. I considered burying the bottles in the backyard for a symbolic farewell and some closure. The disturbing thought of me barefoot, in my pajamas, screaming and crying as hail pelts against my bareback and head, clawing at the surface of the burial site frantically like i was saving a kitten that had been buried, quickly changed my mind from that crazy idea!
On a positive note, I've bounced back from many unfortunate losses in my life, so what's one more? I just need to learn what people do that don't drink. How do they deal with their anger? How do they conquer their fears? How do they handle disappointment? Does dealing with normal issues in life have a big impact on normal peoples' personalities? Will I change? Will I age? Will people still like me? Can I still strike up a conversation without a 'can of confidence'? These are all questions all addicts need to ask themselves. I think a good answer to everyone including myself at this point of sobriety should be, "Who cares!?" It's very easy to think like this.
I need to stop worrying about myself and worry about my family. My daughter will love me unconditionally if I'm alive and well enough to care for her, love her, and provide for her. She'll thank me one day for being me. The greatest thanks and reward for being sober will be who my daughter becomes. She tells me daily she wants to be just like me. I don't ever want her to go through or feel any of the pain I've been through in my life. I pray she isn't like me! I need to get better so she has the role model she deserves.
I not ashamed of where I'm at in life. I actually walk taller with pride and better posture these days. I'm adding years to my life. Everything I've encountered over the years and all of the mistakes I've learned from make me who I am today. My destiny is so close I can smell it. I think I'm closer to my 'purpose in life' than I ever have been. I will use everything I learn on this big journey as tools to help others. Maybe it's some twisted sign that my dad once gave me the book 'A Purpose Driven Life', and my alcoholic genes.
On a positive note, I've bounced back from many unfortunate losses in my life, so what's one more? I just need to learn what people do that don't drink. How do they deal with their anger? How do they conquer their fears? How do they handle disappointment? Does dealing with normal issues in life have a big impact on normal peoples' personalities? Will I change? Will I age? Will people still like me? Can I still strike up a conversation without a 'can of confidence'? These are all questions all addicts need to ask themselves. I think a good answer to everyone including myself at this point of sobriety should be, "Who cares!?" It's very easy to think like this.
I need to stop worrying about myself and worry about my family. My daughter will love me unconditionally if I'm alive and well enough to care for her, love her, and provide for her. She'll thank me one day for being me. The greatest thanks and reward for being sober will be who my daughter becomes. She tells me daily she wants to be just like me. I don't ever want her to go through or feel any of the pain I've been through in my life. I pray she isn't like me! I need to get better so she has the role model she deserves.
I not ashamed of where I'm at in life. I actually walk taller with pride and better posture these days. I'm adding years to my life. Everything I've encountered over the years and all of the mistakes I've learned from make me who I am today. My destiny is so close I can smell it. I think I'm closer to my 'purpose in life' than I ever have been. I will use everything I learn on this big journey as tools to help others. Maybe it's some twisted sign that my dad once gave me the book 'A Purpose Driven Life', and my alcoholic genes.
Sunday, March 28, 2010
Day 4
Day 4 is quite an accomplishment. The last time I went this long without, was when I was pregnant with my daughter. I'm proud of myself but I'm really lonely. I've distanced myself from my social circle for obvious reasons. I feel empty inside. I'm bored. Other than my regular anxiety med, there's not a mood altering drop in me. I've been medicated so long I'm not sure what normal is supposed to feel like. So far, I admit, I don't like it. It's boring and uneventful. There's no spontaneity. There are no 'highs'. I'm not sure my body even has adrenaline in it. This is how it feels to be in the early stages of sobriety.
Listen to me! I sound like a whiner. I need someone to slap me and ask me if I'd rather be dead or in jail. I need someone to ask me if I ever remember those false senses of euphoria the next day. I need someone to drag me out to the garage and tighten my head in a vice, put an air compressor hose up each nostril, dry my mouth out with a leaf blower, and spin me around until I'm nauseous. Why don't those awful mornings, the ones where you swear you'll never drink for as long as you live, etch a permanent warning in your conscious? I think this is yet another unfortunate symptom of this disease.
I'm starting to see why they say you need to make lifestyle changes when you conquer an addiction. Whether it be losing weight, quitting smoking, alcoholism, or drug addiction, you need to learn how to live again. You need to learn how to feel without. You need to learn how to cope without. You need to start over and change the entire routine of your life. You may need to change your route home from work so you don't pass a liquor store. You may need to stay away from people who stress you out, or encourage you to relapse. Conquering addiction isn't just quitting. So many people don't understand why the 2 pack a day smoker with family history of lung cancer just doesn't up and quit. People look down upon others who get DWI's and continue to drink. People laugh at the 'idiot' who takes prescription pills as their drug of choice.
These people all have serious underlying conditions and it makes me sad that a large percent of them will die as a result of their illness.
My heart goes out to the millions of people that just cannot take it and the economy pushes them over the edge. I wonder if this 'Health Care Reform' will include mental health benefits because our nation will need it. Statistically it's hard to see the percentage of Americans who are alcoholics. Many do not seek medical help for fear of what the doctor will find. Many end up dying of liver failure. Many doctors diagnose them with diabetes and/or high blood pressure but fail to see the underlying problem. I admit a big part of my urge to quit is my health. I've had borderline high blood sugar for a couple years and my blood pressure has gone from a steady 105/70 to averaging 150/90. I'm 70 pounds overweight. My heart gets stuck in arrhythmia a couple times a week. Although it's hereditary, I know it's a big part of withdrawal. My heart gets a marathon work out when I have a huge 2-3 day bender, and then quit for a day or 2. By day 2 I can physically feel the effects it had on my body and my body yearning for more. I'm only 30 years old.
If this were a reality show, I'd quit taking my Antabuse, wait 12 hours, get completely annihilated, and justify my actions by keeping up ratings. Unfortunately this isn't a reality show and it is my very serious life. I owe to myself, my husband, my daughter, and my family to at least give this everything I've got.
Hopefully tomorrow's post provides a little less seriousness and more laughter.
Listen to me! I sound like a whiner. I need someone to slap me and ask me if I'd rather be dead or in jail. I need someone to ask me if I ever remember those false senses of euphoria the next day. I need someone to drag me out to the garage and tighten my head in a vice, put an air compressor hose up each nostril, dry my mouth out with a leaf blower, and spin me around until I'm nauseous. Why don't those awful mornings, the ones where you swear you'll never drink for as long as you live, etch a permanent warning in your conscious? I think this is yet another unfortunate symptom of this disease.
I'm starting to see why they say you need to make lifestyle changes when you conquer an addiction. Whether it be losing weight, quitting smoking, alcoholism, or drug addiction, you need to learn how to live again. You need to learn how to feel without. You need to learn how to cope without. You need to start over and change the entire routine of your life. You may need to change your route home from work so you don't pass a liquor store. You may need to stay away from people who stress you out, or encourage you to relapse. Conquering addiction isn't just quitting. So many people don't understand why the 2 pack a day smoker with family history of lung cancer just doesn't up and quit. People look down upon others who get DWI's and continue to drink. People laugh at the 'idiot' who takes prescription pills as their drug of choice.
These people all have serious underlying conditions and it makes me sad that a large percent of them will die as a result of their illness.
My heart goes out to the millions of people that just cannot take it and the economy pushes them over the edge. I wonder if this 'Health Care Reform' will include mental health benefits because our nation will need it. Statistically it's hard to see the percentage of Americans who are alcoholics. Many do not seek medical help for fear of what the doctor will find. Many end up dying of liver failure. Many doctors diagnose them with diabetes and/or high blood pressure but fail to see the underlying problem. I admit a big part of my urge to quit is my health. I've had borderline high blood sugar for a couple years and my blood pressure has gone from a steady 105/70 to averaging 150/90. I'm 70 pounds overweight. My heart gets stuck in arrhythmia a couple times a week. Although it's hereditary, I know it's a big part of withdrawal. My heart gets a marathon work out when I have a huge 2-3 day bender, and then quit for a day or 2. By day 2 I can physically feel the effects it had on my body and my body yearning for more. I'm only 30 years old.
If this were a reality show, I'd quit taking my Antabuse, wait 12 hours, get completely annihilated, and justify my actions by keeping up ratings. Unfortunately this isn't a reality show and it is my very serious life. I owe to myself, my husband, my daughter, and my family to at least give this everything I've got.
Hopefully tomorrow's post provides a little less seriousness and more laughter.
Saturday, March 27, 2010
Day 3
Day 3 sucks! Sucks I tell you! I thought I was clear from withdrawal symptoms and they've only just begun! I was fine until I went to check on my mom. She wasn't feeling well and I was worried about her so I thought I'd kill two birds with one stone and check on her and use her computer to journal day 3. Her internet pissed me off so bad. I could get to my blog but it wouldn't allow me to add a post. Some jackass repair guy changed all her settings and you cannot even Google! Arrgghhh! And so it begins.
I drove off and my heart is racing and I'm raging pissed. I'm salivating and the back of my throat has an annoying film. My salivary glands coating the soft tissue of my mouth to protect it from the poison. I can practically taste it! A nice icy cold blend of Aspartame and liquor are just the medicine I need to calm me down and everything would be fine. My kidneys joined my body's preparation now. When my body releases the hormones when I'm anxious my kidneys begin to throb. I can physically feel the pre game warm up. My throat is burning as if I've taken that first burning sip. God help me this is hard! If I didn't take an Antabuse on my way home I'd so take the projectile vomiting and violent shakes as a side effect just to have one more drink. Why can't I just have one more? Why?
I guess this question calls for embarrassing reminder number one. Let me remind you young people out there who only drink if there is a party or on the weekends that it only gets worse! My first horribly embarrassing alcohol black out was back in 1996. I went to a party with friends, drove them all home, then I woke up in my friend's NEIHBORS house. Yes, I admit, I woke up on a Sunday to a nice family having Sunday breakfast with grandma. According to them I walked in a stumbled around, folded all their laundry in their laundry room, and passed out on their living room floor. They covered my in a blanket and provided me with a puke bucket. I used to laugh about the laundry to cover the humiliation I felt. They went to my church! Their daughters went to my high school! It could've been a house full of drunken college guys. They could've called the cops. This horrible experience didn't slow my drinking down even a little. This is another great example of the power of this horrible disease.
I feel better. The craving went away a little bit but now I feel shame. Shame is a very common feeling of an alcoholic. For anyone listening who is thinking about quitting smoking, drinking, drugs, prescription drugs, shopping, or over eating, please talk to your doctor about an anti-depressant or anti-anxiety medication. It really helps some huge melt downs. It does not help cover up the little things that piss you off though. For instance:
God, grant me the serenity to accept the things I cannot change, the courage to change the things I can, and the wisdom to know the difference. For anyone who doesn't know, that is the serenity prayer.
I drove off and my heart is racing and I'm raging pissed. I'm salivating and the back of my throat has an annoying film. My salivary glands coating the soft tissue of my mouth to protect it from the poison. I can practically taste it! A nice icy cold blend of Aspartame and liquor are just the medicine I need to calm me down and everything would be fine. My kidneys joined my body's preparation now. When my body releases the hormones when I'm anxious my kidneys begin to throb. I can physically feel the pre game warm up. My throat is burning as if I've taken that first burning sip. God help me this is hard! If I didn't take an Antabuse on my way home I'd so take the projectile vomiting and violent shakes as a side effect just to have one more drink. Why can't I just have one more? Why?
I guess this question calls for embarrassing reminder number one. Let me remind you young people out there who only drink if there is a party or on the weekends that it only gets worse! My first horribly embarrassing alcohol black out was back in 1996. I went to a party with friends, drove them all home, then I woke up in my friend's NEIHBORS house. Yes, I admit, I woke up on a Sunday to a nice family having Sunday breakfast with grandma. According to them I walked in a stumbled around, folded all their laundry in their laundry room, and passed out on their living room floor. They covered my in a blanket and provided me with a puke bucket. I used to laugh about the laundry to cover the humiliation I felt. They went to my church! Their daughters went to my high school! It could've been a house full of drunken college guys. They could've called the cops. This horrible experience didn't slow my drinking down even a little. This is another great example of the power of this horrible disease.
I feel better. The craving went away a little bit but now I feel shame. Shame is a very common feeling of an alcoholic. For anyone listening who is thinking about quitting smoking, drinking, drugs, prescription drugs, shopping, or over eating, please talk to your doctor about an anti-depressant or anti-anxiety medication. It really helps some huge melt downs. It does not help cover up the little things that piss you off though. For instance:
- I don't understand why we had to suffer so bad in the 80's with safety pins and denim! We were actually late for the bus to get them pinned just right. And God forbid we run out of safety pins. It's frustrating that it took 30 years for designers to come out with skinny jeans!
- Oh, and anyone who fell for the new Snuggy; it's called a frickin' robe! Try wearing it backwards!
- Just an FYI for you teenage boys out there with the 'Cousin It' bangs in your eyes and horse shit posture, you don't look sexy! The hair actually irritates your acne! Oh, and BTW, bigfoot shouldn't wear skinny jeans.
- I could not be anyone's friend, not even via text, if they wore a Bump-It!
God, grant me the serenity to accept the things I cannot change, the courage to change the things I can, and the wisdom to know the difference. For anyone who doesn't know, that is the serenity prayer.
Friday, March 26, 2010
Day 2
Day 2 went fine until my drive home from work. This is when I start thinking about what I'm going to make for supper. The problem is, I like cooking with wine. I don't mean marinating steak in a little cabernet, or adding a little sherry to some chicken. I enjoy a glass or 4 of wine while I prepare supper. After dinner, I use being full to justify a caffeinated beverage, to wake up of course. A Bacardi diet becomes dessert.
In treatment, these thoughts that lead to drinking are called stinkin' thinkin'. You are supposed to recognize these thoughts and have a plan to think of something else to break your routine. That is why I take my Antabuse on the way home from work. It reminds me I cannot drink.
I'd like to talk about the definition of an alcoholic. Clinically, they say you are an alcoholic if you black out 2 or more times a month. They also say if alcohol has led to 2 or more bad decisions you regret, you might be an alcoholic. Many people are confused what an alcoholic really is. Just for shits and giggles, Google-image 'alcoholic'. I promise my picture won't pop up. There are the typical pictures of homeless men tattered and torn. There's a silhouette of a man in deep regret with the bottle against his forehead. I wish I could photograph what symbolizes all kinds of alcoholics.
Many of you who know me pretty well may be shocked by the news that I'm an alcoholic. Let me help you by defining what kind of alcoholic I am. They call me a 'functioning alcoholic'. I'm the kind of alcoholic who can hold a full time job, pay bills, be a mother, a wife, a friend, and still have time to find time for hobbies.
Sounds great, right? Well, the functioning drunk also tucks her daughter in at night, waits for her husband to fall asleep, and binge drinks to forget all of the stress of the day. A functioning drunk takes care of everyone but them self. They cry themselves to sleep some nights because they hate who they've become. A functioning drunk thinks of how overweight they've become. We are disgusted by ourselves and wish we could stop. A functioning drunk wishes they had a Face book but doesn't want anyone from her past to see how horrible they look. We repeat "God help me quit!" over and over in our heads while we shower. We binge drink to forget.
I also have recently fallen into a deeper stage of alcoholism I like to call 'the narcoleptic alcoholic'. This is one of the most embarrassing stages of alcoholism. I used to laugh at the people in treatment that got a DWI because the officer found them asleep at a stop sign. I regret that. A few cocktails towards the end literally shut my body down in the middle of everyday activities. This is where honestly meets humility. Yes, I'm talking about passing out in a car, on the phone, during conversation, on the bar, going to the bathroom, standing up, or even in the middle of a sip of a cocktail. This is so humbling, wow! To put a positive spin on a disgusting illness, I believe God turned me into a narcoleptic drunk to save me from dying. Unfortunately, I've never been a 'puker'. This is a healthy person's body saying it's had enough. Part of my illness is my body doesn't know when it's had enough.
Heredity is also a huge factor of this disease. I come from a long line of alcoholics. My paternal grandfather drank a pint of Vodka a day. I remember as a kid going to flush the toilet and it would either want to overflow or the chain would fall off. Grandpa always kept a bottle of Vodka in the tank of the toilet. Not only did he think it was a good hiding spot, it was icy cold every pull. (For grandpa! I didn't start THAT young.) That's probably where I got my hiding idea though. You see, towards the end my husband was so fed up I had to hide little bottles wherever he wouldn't look so I could get my fix without him yelling at me. When I decided to quit it took me forever to remember where all the bottles were. I only found around 8. Thank you grandpa. Oh, just an FYI, my grandpa finally quit drinking when he put his car through two buildings at 11 a.m. one morning leaving the bar. I'd like to meet these wackos who think alcoholism isn't a disease and isn't hereditary.
Personality type is another great factor. I am the youngest child and I have an addictive personality. I also want to be the best at everything I do. Here's an example of why this can be a bad personality trait. When I asked the doctor about antabuse, I also asked him about medicine for withdrawal symptoms. You see, they say when you quit drinking you can get severe withdrawal symptoms. They call them DT's I guess. When the doctor asked me how much I was drinking, I honestly told him 6-10 drinks daily. He told me I'd be fine and I wouldn't need any withdrawal meds. I wasn't sure if I was offended or relieved. I wasn't the best alcoholic? Hell, if I had known that I would've stepped it up a notch the last couple of weeks.
For anyone reading this who gets the wrong idea, for any young person out there who likes the idea of the 'functioning alcoholic' or gets the wrong idea that 6-10 drinks is okay, you're wrong! You may party only on the weekends, never black out, and gets straight A's. You may only drink 2-3 glasses of wine a night and think you are fine. Ask yourself if you have a family history of alcoholism. Do you have an addictive personality? Do you have any regrets caused by drinking? Do you have any injuries due to drinking? Just take a good look in the mirror and picture yourself older, uglier, worn out, and 50 pounds overweight. Picture yourself full of regret and anxiety. Picture yourself spending less time with people you love and more time with a glass of poison in your hand. It will eventually get to all of us. It is a slow killer.
Please cut back or stop while you're ahead. It gets harder every time. This is my 5th good attempt to quit drinking.
Day 2 was a good day. Thank you to all who made such encouraging comments. I appreciate all of you!
In treatment, these thoughts that lead to drinking are called stinkin' thinkin'. You are supposed to recognize these thoughts and have a plan to think of something else to break your routine. That is why I take my Antabuse on the way home from work. It reminds me I cannot drink.
I'd like to talk about the definition of an alcoholic. Clinically, they say you are an alcoholic if you black out 2 or more times a month. They also say if alcohol has led to 2 or more bad decisions you regret, you might be an alcoholic. Many people are confused what an alcoholic really is. Just for shits and giggles, Google-image 'alcoholic'. I promise my picture won't pop up. There are the typical pictures of homeless men tattered and torn. There's a silhouette of a man in deep regret with the bottle against his forehead. I wish I could photograph what symbolizes all kinds of alcoholics.
Many of you who know me pretty well may be shocked by the news that I'm an alcoholic. Let me help you by defining what kind of alcoholic I am. They call me a 'functioning alcoholic'. I'm the kind of alcoholic who can hold a full time job, pay bills, be a mother, a wife, a friend, and still have time to find time for hobbies.
Sounds great, right? Well, the functioning drunk also tucks her daughter in at night, waits for her husband to fall asleep, and binge drinks to forget all of the stress of the day. A functioning drunk takes care of everyone but them self. They cry themselves to sleep some nights because they hate who they've become. A functioning drunk thinks of how overweight they've become. We are disgusted by ourselves and wish we could stop. A functioning drunk wishes they had a Face book but doesn't want anyone from her past to see how horrible they look. We repeat "God help me quit!" over and over in our heads while we shower. We binge drink to forget.
I also have recently fallen into a deeper stage of alcoholism I like to call 'the narcoleptic alcoholic'. This is one of the most embarrassing stages of alcoholism. I used to laugh at the people in treatment that got a DWI because the officer found them asleep at a stop sign. I regret that. A few cocktails towards the end literally shut my body down in the middle of everyday activities. This is where honestly meets humility. Yes, I'm talking about passing out in a car, on the phone, during conversation, on the bar, going to the bathroom, standing up, or even in the middle of a sip of a cocktail. This is so humbling, wow! To put a positive spin on a disgusting illness, I believe God turned me into a narcoleptic drunk to save me from dying. Unfortunately, I've never been a 'puker'. This is a healthy person's body saying it's had enough. Part of my illness is my body doesn't know when it's had enough.
Heredity is also a huge factor of this disease. I come from a long line of alcoholics. My paternal grandfather drank a pint of Vodka a day. I remember as a kid going to flush the toilet and it would either want to overflow or the chain would fall off. Grandpa always kept a bottle of Vodka in the tank of the toilet. Not only did he think it was a good hiding spot, it was icy cold every pull. (For grandpa! I didn't start THAT young.) That's probably where I got my hiding idea though. You see, towards the end my husband was so fed up I had to hide little bottles wherever he wouldn't look so I could get my fix without him yelling at me. When I decided to quit it took me forever to remember where all the bottles were. I only found around 8. Thank you grandpa. Oh, just an FYI, my grandpa finally quit drinking when he put his car through two buildings at 11 a.m. one morning leaving the bar. I'd like to meet these wackos who think alcoholism isn't a disease and isn't hereditary.
Personality type is another great factor. I am the youngest child and I have an addictive personality. I also want to be the best at everything I do. Here's an example of why this can be a bad personality trait. When I asked the doctor about antabuse, I also asked him about medicine for withdrawal symptoms. You see, they say when you quit drinking you can get severe withdrawal symptoms. They call them DT's I guess. When the doctor asked me how much I was drinking, I honestly told him 6-10 drinks daily. He told me I'd be fine and I wouldn't need any withdrawal meds. I wasn't sure if I was offended or relieved. I wasn't the best alcoholic? Hell, if I had known that I would've stepped it up a notch the last couple of weeks.
For anyone reading this who gets the wrong idea, for any young person out there who likes the idea of the 'functioning alcoholic' or gets the wrong idea that 6-10 drinks is okay, you're wrong! You may party only on the weekends, never black out, and gets straight A's. You may only drink 2-3 glasses of wine a night and think you are fine. Ask yourself if you have a family history of alcoholism. Do you have an addictive personality? Do you have any regrets caused by drinking? Do you have any injuries due to drinking? Just take a good look in the mirror and picture yourself older, uglier, worn out, and 50 pounds overweight. Picture yourself full of regret and anxiety. Picture yourself spending less time with people you love and more time with a glass of poison in your hand. It will eventually get to all of us. It is a slow killer.
Please cut back or stop while you're ahead. It gets harder every time. This is my 5th good attempt to quit drinking.
Day 2 was a good day. Thank you to all who made such encouraging comments. I appreciate all of you!
Thursday, March 25, 2010
Day 1
I'm sitting in the doctor's office waiting for the most important appointment of my life. This appointment will be the key to my survival. When he comes in he asks me what I'm here for. I reply with, "I'd like a prescription for ant-abuse." Before my eyes even fill with tears of relief, he hands me a Kleenex.
I did it! For the first time in my life I finally admitted to a health care professional, without being court appointed, that I have a big problem. I think I like the idea of e-AA because I am held accountable for my day to day actions. It forces me to practice integrity daily.
So ever since I decided to quit for good, everything I see or hear reminds me of alcohol. It's kind like when you become pregnant and every woman you see for the next 9 months in a 10 mile radius is also pregnant; and you never noticed a pregnant lady in your life before. You could also compare it to when you get engaged and you suddenly become a clarity expert and notice every ones carat size comparing it to your own. I'm sure you get it by now. I've got alcohol on the brain.
Do you ever notice how much alcohol they pound down on the Today Show? My God! I don't think I can take it if I hear Willard announce that some 110 year old Smuc
It's one thing to ask a doctor for a very serious drug that disables your liver's ability to metabolize alcohol, hence making your deathly ill if you consume a drop; it's another to go to a small town pharmacy to fill the prescription. You should have seen the looks I got from the assembly line of drug dealers disguised as small town housewives behind the glass. Despite the stares I walked around shopping and then I made my way to the card section, or as I call it, a relapse waiting to happen.
The first card that caught my eye was a 'get well soon' card. The picture on the front has woman lying in a hospital bed and the IV bag is an upside down bottle of Gin. WTF! As I walk quickly out of the 'aisle of temptations' the pharmacist calls me over. "Have you ever taken this medication before?" What kind of question is that? What do I look like, an alcoholic? Did I mention a withdrawal symptom is loss of memory?
Speaking of memory, the first pharmacy I went to said it will be ready in 10 minutes. I anxiously walked around the store and when I came back the pharmacist says with a megaphone, "The only ant-abuse we had in stock expired so we had to throw it away." Great! I'm the only alcoholic in this town in the last century. This day just gets better and better.
It's evening now and instead of having a cocktail I wash dishes, do laundry, clean my room, closet, my daughters room, bathroom, upstairs, downstairs, van, car, refrigerator, and still have time for 'Cougar Town'. How ironic that tonight Jules decides to quit drinking wine. Her friends have an intervention because they all want her to start drinking again.
I've come to the conclusion that everything for the rest of my life will remind me of alcohol. Thank God I didn't name my daughter Morgan like I had planned back when the 'Captain' first came out.
Day 1 was a success and I look forward to tomorrow. I can do this! We can do this!
I did it! For the first time in my life I finally admitted to a health care professional, without being court appointed, that I have a big problem. I think I like the idea of e-AA because I am held accountable for my day to day actions. It forces me to practice integrity daily.
So ever since I decided to quit for good, everything I see or hear reminds me of alcohol. It's kind like when you become pregnant and every woman you see for the next 9 months in a 10 mile radius is also pregnant; and you never noticed a pregnant lady in your life before. You could also compare it to when you get engaged and you suddenly become a clarity expert and notice every ones carat size comparing it to your own. I'm sure you get it by now. I've got alcohol on the brain.
Do you ever notice how much alcohol they pound down on the Today Show? My God! I don't think I can take it if I hear Willard announce that some 110 year old Smuc
It's one thing to ask a doctor for a very serious drug that disables your liver's ability to metabolize alcohol, hence making your deathly ill if you consume a drop; it's another to go to a small town pharmacy to fill the prescription. You should have seen the looks I got from the assembly line of drug dealers disguised as small town housewives behind the glass. Despite the stares I walked around shopping and then I made my way to the card section, or as I call it, a relapse waiting to happen.
The first card that caught my eye was a 'get well soon' card. The picture on the front has woman lying in a hospital bed and the IV bag is an upside down bottle of Gin. WTF! As I walk quickly out of the 'aisle of temptations' the pharmacist calls me over. "Have you ever taken this medication before?" What kind of question is that? What do I look like, an alcoholic? Did I mention a withdrawal symptom is loss of memory?
Speaking of memory, the first pharmacy I went to said it will be ready in 10 minutes. I anxiously walked around the store and when I came back the pharmacist says with a megaphone, "The only ant-abuse we had in stock expired so we had to throw it away." Great! I'm the only alcoholic in this town in the last century. This day just gets better and better.
It's evening now and instead of having a cocktail I wash dishes, do laundry, clean my room, closet, my daughters room, bathroom, upstairs, downstairs, van, car, refrigerator, and still have time for 'Cougar Town'. How ironic that tonight Jules decides to quit drinking wine. Her friends have an intervention because they all want her to start drinking again.
I've come to the conclusion that everything for the rest of my life will remind me of alcohol. Thank God I didn't name my daughter Morgan like I had planned back when the 'Captain' first came out.
Day 1 was a success and I look forward to tomorrow. I can do this! We can do this!
Subscribe to:
Comments (Atom)