i’m enjoying rereading my journal from 2004, it’s quite entertaining, especially my thoughts pre-husband, when i was single for such a long time. In February 2004, I was doing a week without TV and without reading, and here’s a bit of my thought process, seems to fit today:
“It’s a transition, so some parts are harder than others, it’s about feeling uncomfortable temporarily. If we always want to feel good, then we’d stay well in from the edges of life so that nothing ever sticks us. Or [we can choose] a short-term discomfort for a longer-term gain. It’s not about helping me to ‘feel’ good, it’s helping me to ‘be’ good.” (Feb 24, 2004).
hope you’re having an easy day. good food. a laugh or two.
I was writing about the ideas of early sobriety (when we are less than 15 days sober) on someone’s blog, but want to elaborate here …
Right when you first quit, there are lot of questions, a lot of unknowns. part of why we ALL struggle in the first days is because it’s all so new, so foreign to how we usually live.
Questions like: “How will i go to a party and not drink? I won’t be any fun! How will i manage sober sex? Sober dating? How will i deal with stress?” and my personal favorite: “Is this no-drinking thing forever?”
And so on.
The initial question-asking stage of sobriety is deafening. there are a billion things to consider. Or so it seems.
and yet, bit by bit, it gets easier. we read a few books and we blog and/or read other sober blogs, and we comment, and maybe we do a meeting (or not). We run more (or not), we sleep better, we begin to feel more comfortable in our own skin.
in a few more days, some of hazy grayness starts to lift. For me it was around day 34 but i started off intending to quit only for a month, and so i farted around a lot in the first month with what-if ideas, and maybe everyone does that, or maybe you’re more focused than I was and your grayness will lift sooner.
Now here’s my metaphor:
Sobriety is like a little car, rolling downhill, that gathers momentum as it goes. But if you stop the car too soon (by giving up, by having just one drink), then you never get to experience the momentum it can gather with time, and you’ll just get to experience (repeatedly) the ‘starting over part’. which we agree, stinks.
it doesn’t take very long to feel better and to have a clearer head. so keep the car rolling, and feel your way through the grayness.
Sobriety is like a little car, and if you’ve got the little car already on its way downhill,however slowly, don’t do anything to stall. don’t change your medication, don’t suddenly quit your job, don’t buy a dog, don’t stop going to meetings. You want the car to keep moving, right? Downhill, yeah? Slowly gathering momentum. Don’t get impatient that other people don’t notice how great you are. Don’t confront your spouse about their radically different life plan. Not now. Not now.
protect your little sober car.
(and now, to mix metaphors) You need to walk around like a blind person with your arms outstretched, saying “don’t come near me with your drama, your shit, your demands. Stay the fuck away from me. I’m protecting me. See my outstretched hands grasping for the wall, grasping for something solid? Stay over there and gently guide me if you like, but do NOT dare come inside my arms-stretched-out space and fuck with my sobriety. Don’t tease me, don’t cajole me, and don’t bait me.”
(back to our regularly scheduled metaphor)
“Because i’ve got a little car of sobriety rolling downhill,” you say. “And some days it’s all i can do to keep going. but i ain’t pulling over. Not now, not for you. If this car stalls, it might not start again.”
Get out of my way. Sober car coming through …
sober art. for support. thanks to mr.belle, who supports me. you support both of us. then we send you art in the mail. it’s win-win-win-win 🙂 if booze is an elevator that only goes down, you find the exit. and sometimes the exit is in french. www.artsober.com
day 45. all is well. i haven’t had any of the “holy shit i had a drink” dreams. Instead i dreamt that i was handed a glass, and had a sip of wine and then spit it out, shouting to the hostess who served it to me: “I don’t drink!”
not only is “all well” with me today, but i’d like to continue feeling like this please. yesterday and today (so far) have been surprisingly settled, calm, happy, even days. Better than i’ve felt in a LONG time. Maybe the best that i’ve felt, ever. happy but not manic. content but not wacky. just good.
Now let’s talk about the 3 very small slices of chocolate cake i had yesterday. miniscule, really, but 3 nonetheless. I did mention that i wanted to do some baking during this vacation, and yesterday i got down to business.
i know that running 5 days a week, at my slow pace and for short distances, is all about mood control and not about weight management. I’m completely fine with that. I love running, and I don’t need to change anything about how i’m doing it. But my level of running does not permit me to eat ANYTHING i want.
yes, early days of quitting booze meant that i really didn’t have any choice. I needed the sugar and the calories and i needed it a lot.
but today is day 45 and i’m feeling good. so i’m going to slowly and gently begin to rein in the cake.
need a t-shirt made up:
“Must Eat Less Cake”
on my run today, i decided it will be best (for me) if i do something ‘out loud’ and accountable. Since i know from the law of attraction that what we focus on EXPANDS, then i will focus on pounds lost, so that i can watch that number grow.
Since quitting booze 45 days ago, as of today, Tuesday morning, I am down 2.2 pounds. not bad considering said cake. Every Tuesday morning for the next several weeks, i will post my total weight loss so that I can watch the number increase … sort of like watching my sober days increase. My current sober goal is 90 days (and beyond). my current weight goal is 15ish pounds (possibly beyond, i’ll see when i get there).
If you’re interested in joining me, you can go and weigh yourself now (2.2 pounds = 1 kilo). Yes, you can weigh yourself now, even if you’ve just eaten. Think how low the number will be by comparison next tuesday when you weigh yourself first thing : ) There’s no right time to start. There’s just now, and i’m starting here. i didn’t want to take on too much in the first 45 days, but now i feel OK with charting my numbers. nothing strenuous. no big diet. just conscious awareness. and mindfulness. Are you gonna join me?
Day 44. I am well, i having nothing new to report. I’m not having cravings. I learned nothing yesterday.
Well, that’s not strictly true. I think i learned these things, but i knew them before, but yesterday i learned them again.
I feel better on days when i run (i’m running 5 out of 7 days now, sometimes only 20 minutes, but the 2 non-running-days stick out in the calm of the week).
The longer the run (40 minutes+), the better. Therefore, Sundays are usually the most calm and peaceful and resourceful and relaxed that i feel all week.
I used to really love adventures. Maybe moving to foreign-land used up my adventure quotient and then drinking buried the rest. This weekend, however, husband and I did two walking tours, one Saturday and one Sunday, and saw new and interesting parts of the city, discovered gardens, beautiful views, drank bottled water, took a gazillion photos, and enjoyed being outside in the sun.
Sunshine makes me feel much, much better. Living here is an improvement over our last city, and i hope our next move is another improvement again …
On our way to the walking tour yesterday afternoon, husband and I had a “joking” conversation on the train, but it might become real. I asked him what was the best part of our new lives here in this new city. He told me: his new favorite hobby, which costs quite a bit of money. The more money he has for it, the better. He can do it cheaply but would prefer to do it more often, more expensively. And he’d like a budget of maybe $300/month to go hog-wild (all-out). (god, what’s a universally understood translation of hog-wild?) (well, as much as he wants). My new favorite thing to do here makes money. it’s the coolest funnest thing ever and it actually generates revenue. The “Joke” was me saying: “we should figure out how you can have as much $ as you need to enjoy your hobby, and I’ll just do my hobby more often to pay for yours.” His eyes lit up, really, it was soo sweet. I don’t really think he’d enjoy me doing mine as much as i’d like to (it’s quite disruptive and sucks a lot of my time), nor would i really want him gone 4 out of 7 nights doing his… but i think we’re on the way to finding a good compromise …
i’m guilty on this one-month vacation of feeling bored, and that’s completely my own creation. beginning today, i want to get more done – even if it’s just cleaning, even if it’s just reading more books. i want to look back on the vacation and feel like it was worth taking the time off AND i want to fill up my time more, even if it’s just reading in the park, so that there’s less room for the demon bitchy booze cravings. Less time in front of the computer searching (for who knows what), and more time outside.
I’m in charge of how good I feel. Time to play that hand a bit better.
i am committed to posting something every day for the first 60 (or perhaps 90) days, and i do not want to devolve to just recounting my day and telling you “what i did yesterday” or “what i plan to do today”. I’m challenging myself instead to record insights, struggles, things i’ve realized, things i’ve learned from reading other blogs, and recording successes. Not just “we had company last night for dinner and i made roast chicken” … but instead “i was worried about not drinking last night and it turned out to be quite easy to have tonic and cranberry, what was i worried about?”
in fact, after the company left, my first thoughts were: it’s early (10:30 pm, that’s an early ending to a saturday night, especially if wine is involved; guest and husband shared one bottle, how tame, how lame, how ordinary).
And my Number #2 thought, shocking, was: “why did i think that i was going to trip and fall and drink this evening? is having dinner with friends some kind of battle that requires fortification? what was so bad about that, about having dinner, that i thought i might be tempted to drink?”
was it a battle that required strength? was it a hurt that required soothing? was it a not-nice-event that could be lifted with a shot or two?
it was dinner. roast chicken. big windows open. molten chocolate cake for dessert (the first trial didn’t work so well and poured out all over the counter, so i let the other one bake longer and it was perfect…).
i think, before, i drank for NO REASON. there’s nothing about having dinner with friends that is improved by wine.
thus begins day 43. and in the spirit of not simply recounting my day without insight, let me say i’m back from my sunday long run, it’s sunny, and my husband is – as i type – making us breakfast complete with homemade sausage that i pulled from the freezer. we are going out for a big long walk today. it continues to be hot and sunny (25C). we will be having white bean soup with fennel for dinner…
I probably don’t meet the definition of an alcoholic. No bottom, no disaster, just a slow erosion of quality of life.
but there was alcohol consumed in my immediate family, and i have watched the effects closely, all my life.
ok, i’m not a textbook alcoholic myself, perhaps, but did the consumption of alcohol negatively affect my life? definitely. i was grumpy when drinking, i slept poorly, and i still weigh more than i want to.
did i continue to drink for a long time after i knew that it wasn’t working for me? yes. i’ve been writing things in my journal like “drink less” for years. forever, it seems. i have a diary from 2004 and it’s right there in black in white.
Sober, I like the person i’m becoming. sure, i’d like to be able to have one glass of wine with dinner, but the noise in my head gets so loud that one drink would always turns into three. even when i have a big work gig in the morning, even when i know the next day would be a disaster.
I equate THAT with repeatedly slamming your hand in a car door. like, if you want to feel pain, there are easier ways to get it!
Yes, we can have a conversation about degrees. degrees of use, abuse, powerlessness. i never want one glass of wine, i want three. if i were to drink today, i would also drink tomorrow.
now that i’m not drinking, the noise in my head has mostly stopped. only about once a day, or less, do i think “i could have a drink now” and then i let it go. the noise is getting tamer. It doesn’t fight back so hard. and i’m smarter than the noise in my head. I’ve finally stopped slamming my hand in a car door. what a relief.
i am (finally) learning from my mistakes. i want to evolve.
I am now back to running 5 days a week, which is the level I was at before we moved here to foreign-land.
I set out to run 30 minutes today and at about 20 mins I was tired. I know enough to finish the run, and to do what I set out to do. Because the few times that i’ve given up early (in my 12 years of running), i always regret it terribly afterwards. As a result, since I don’t want to disappoint myself, I almost always finish the run, AND I’m super careful to not plan to run too far. In the mornings when I set out, I plan my run based on how i feel, how much training, i’ve been doing, how much sleep i had the night before, the weather, etc.
And so I knew that 30 minutes was completely within my ability today. I felt like stopping at 20 minutes, but I knew I could ignore those feelings.
[The parallels of running and ‘real life’ and sobriety are many. Don’t take on too much at once, we improve incrementally, don’t quit early, don’t quit at all if you can help it – even if you have to walk instead of run, it’s always better to finish no matter how you get there.]
So this morning, I was planning to do 30 minutes. Unfortunately, I went the “long way around” and at the end of 30 minutes I was NOT at the tram station where I hoped to end up, so that i could easily hop the tram and go home.
OK, no big deal. I decided to run from where I was to the tram (so my run was in fact 36 minutes … and I thought i was ‘too tired’ at 20 minutes … ha!)
On those last 6 “bonus” minutes, I had the coolest feeling. I know it’s in part from reading everyone’s brave and amazing comments on yesterday’s post. As I was running, I thought, I’m going to run this extra bit for all of the people who CAN’T. For everyone who wishes they could, but can’t (yet). And i got goosebumps, literally, like this really warm feeling of doing something for the greater good. I know, I know, it’s a bit metaphysical even for this chick.
But there are lots of people who’d love to be me (sober on day 40), so I just cannot fuck it up.
There are tons of people who’d love to live in this beautiful city and see what I can see. So i cannot hide in my apartment.
There are billions of people who’d give their left nut to run along the water and then take the tram home.
Last night, husband and i sitting at opposite ends of the couch, my feet wrapped around his legs. It’s 10 pm and we’re both … wait for it … reading. I’m reading jason vale’s book, and he’s (finally) reading the second stieg larssson book. The big floor-to-ceiling windows are open because it’s summer and a warm evening.
The last time we sat together on a friday night on the couch reading?
Maybe you had this experience as a kid, because maybe you had a completely fucked up childhood too. did you ever have the experience of trick-or-treating, or of driving by other people’s homes, and just getting the tiniest, thinnest glimpse inside, and instantly have a deep feeling of jealousy? i’d see a bit of someone’s living room, it looked tidy, nice couch, dim lighting, someone sitting in a chair reading … and i’d want them to adopt me. I want to live here, I’d think.
Or as an adult, driving through a neighborhood, brief glances into living room windows, i’d feel terribly jealous that i don’t live there. or there. or there. They’re all having such nice lives in there, I’d imagine. I wish i could go to bed and wake up in THAT life.
well last night, maybe for the first time in my entire life, i was having one of those moments that i used to feel jealous about.
i crawled right into the postcard ‘ideal’ life that i’ve been pining for. quiet people, together, having shared quiet time, in a clean home – no yelling, no cigarette smoke, no clutter, no chaos, no alcohol, no screaming. Nice yellow light, couple on the couch together. Reading.