*it blunts, numbs, fills time…*

i called this blog “tired of thinking about drinking” because there’s a lot of noise in my head about booze. when to have it, how much, how close together, did he get more, will there be enough.

but i’ve never come across text that explains this ‘noise’ better than my new friend Cleo:

She writes:

“Moderation does not work for me. Been there so many, many times. My brain is addicted to wine and the addicted brain needs absolute clarity. *Maybe just one* starts up too much discussion between all my selves.  *None* is easier for all of us to understand.”

I’m going to print this out and tape it to the edge of my computer monitor so that i can stare at it. My selves. yes, the noise in my head is my rational self talking to my addicted self. and yes, firm boundaries and absolute clarity means no bargaining.

this new note will go up next to the one that’s already attached to my monitor.

I wrote this (to myself) in the fall (perhaps mid-october-ish), i wrote this after consuming my 3 drinks:

“It gets between me and my life, between me and you, between me and serving, between me and fun.  it affects my weight, my sleep, my enthusiasm.  it blunts, numbs, fills time, expands into the space allowed.  adds nothing, feels bad, sad, argumentative, irritated.  this isn’t the real me.  And escape? There’s nothing to escape from, it isn’t bad here, there’s joy and beauty and ease here. don’t need to ‘go’ anywhere else.”

Day 14. I always feel better when …

today begins day 14 of Dry July.  i do love a (nearly) half-way point.  even in running, on a long run i love the ‘turn around point’ because then it’s all downhill in my mind. in the second half, i don’t have to check my watch, i just run until i’m home again.  the second half is sooo much faster than the first half.

running and being sober. hmm, similarities?

  • when running, especially on long runs, i often feel like a bag of shit for the first 20-3o minutes, and i now know that’s normal. i know to just keep going through the crappy part and then it’ll feel better
  • never quit during those first 20-30 minutes, just wait for it to feel better.  it always does.
  • i don’t always feel like going for a run but i always feel better when it’s over
  • some runs give me that amazing runners high, and some don’t. can’t tell which will be the ‘good’ days. just have to do them all.
  • always feel better on the days when i run than the days when i don’t
  • i eat less on running days than other days (hmm…)
  • listening to This American Life on my tiny shuffle can pass the longest hour, running uphill, in the cold pouring rain. (i should use this diversion more often in real life)
  • if I start with walk 2, run 2, eventually i can do a marathon (i started sobriety with 2 days on, 2 days off, then worked up to a week off, 2 days on.  now i’m doing 30 days off.  i guess my marathon is coming up!) i know this analogy won’t work for everyone, super problem drinkers probably can’t practice being sober.  i could. i’m one of the lucky ones.
  • during a marathon, i will be looking around on the side of the road for a place to puke (i won’t puke, but i’ll feel like it) … but once i cross the finish line, i will be soooo elated; i slept that night for 12 hrs and I was on a super-big-high that lasted two weeks, and it truly changes your life and changes your belief in yourself and what you CAN achieve

god and computers

This is the beginning of day 13 in my Dry July.  And while yesterday was a shitty day, i made it through.  in fact, the computer problem is slowly resolving itself, and the family illness seems to have improved overnight.

I subscribe to Notes from the Universe and on wednesday, when faced with the worst aspects of my dead computer, I got this message:

“If you knew I answered whenever you spoke to me, Belle, would you be still enough to hear me? Prepare to be amazed, [signed] The Universe.  PS/And if you knew I was listening, Belle, to everything you thought or said, might we talk again like old times?”

I have to tell you this made me smile. I began to prepare myself for a miraculous computer recovery. Low-and-behold, when the new part arrived yesterday, i plugged it in (after leaving the machine off for 4 days), and … yes, it worked.  it’s limping along a bit lop-sidedly, but it’s open enough for me to get access to my most important client files.

Now I don’t want to freak anybody out here, and i love and respect everyone.  Really I do.  but I don’t believe in god. I love and adore people who do believe, and one of my best friends for the past 20 years is an evangelical christian who often covers me in ‘angels’ when i go on car trips. To her, I say, bring on your angels, i can take all the help i can get.  but me, personally?  well, I believe in me, and the power that I have to make changes in my life.

that said, i kinda believe in the universe.  does that even make any sense? i believe in some kind of shared ‘good vibes’.  i believe that i create my own reality. me. me. but i also know that if i ask my husband to ask for better weather, then better weather arrives (for some reason it doesn’t work if I ask myself).

i believe in synchronicity, i believe in making your own luck, and i believe that sometimes – occasionally – the universe lifts you up.  I got such love and support from the online community yesterday, that i think you’re part of my collective universe. that and a delivery of a computer part from Amazon, combined with a text from my sister that family is doing better… All is well this morning.

Thanks for being part of my universe 🙂

crying seems to help

this is day 12 for me, and i’m having a weak day. i know that there will be good days and bad days.  and that bad days don’t mean that i am going to drink.  it’s still my first impulse, though. i know that sometime that will fade. but not yet.

i am having lots of things in my life that are making me sad, all on the same day. family illness, computer failure, crummy not-summery-weather. i also slept in today, perhaps too late, and so i’ve been dragging all day.

crying seemed to help. and it’s 6 pm here, european time. it’d be normal for me to have a glass of wine right now.  more than normal, it’s what i’ve always done. instead. instead i’m trying to rescue a dead computer, i’m going to roast a chicken for dinner. i’m going to drink some more tea. i’m going to have a bath. and i’m going to count on tomorrow being easier.

i’m glad i’m on day 12 and not on day 2.  but i do feel like going to bed and crawling under the covers to HIDE…

 

what if alcohol was a ‘place’

alcohol is like a place.  it’s where I go after dinner.  it’s where I go on vacation. it takes me to a tunnel of fuzzy numbness. it takes me away from here. it’s a place I go in my mind.

if alcohol was a place, I want to say now that I DON’T GO THERE ANYMORE.

i don’t go to the fuzzy, hiding, numb place. I don’t go to the artificially loud, thinking all of my jokes are hilarious, place. I don’t go to the place where i feel crummy the next day – both physically and emotionally.

I’m not sure all the time where i’m going instead, but not knowing — and occasionally feeling completely lost — has to be better than going THERE.