Mellow May

So for some reason, I had a very angry day when last I posted.

 

 

 

I had to get reconnected, to my sobriety, to my relationships with my family, and with God.

Sometimes I am the angry alcoholic, and sometimes I am focused and happy-go-lucky...

Live and learn, right?  And meanwhile, I have gone through a lot of things sober that I never would have imagined possible without drinking.


This has been a great month.  
♪ ♫ I love Spring ♫ ♪

Yes, Still Sober and Alive and...kickin'

So I have been trying to just get by in my life...

Alive and kicking, so they say...

Doing my job, eating, breathing, going to the grocery store, seems like boring stuff to most, but to me it's just holding on to the sanity of sobriety.

People feel they need to know something more...I do.
Why is it so much of a struggle to get where I do.  
To do my daily shit and just fucking get through one damned day...why should it be so damned hard?

Guess fucking what? If you don't get it, you are not an alcoholic.  You don't get it cuz you aren't what we are. 

Sorry, not trying to exclude you, but you just "never gonna get it".

And Life goes on.............♥ ♥ ♥

Another Sober Saturday

It was so dark and cold all day today, but I really enjoyed a day off.  

I haven't really written much, but I would really like to make more of an effort.  My intention in blogging was to hopefully let someone out there see that there's hope for anyone who is sick and tired of a life of being a slave to the bottle.

So, in case you didn't already know, I have a facebook page.

If you are more of a Twitter person, I am also on Twitter @A_Saving_Grace

I have an e-mail too, so if you prefer, I am at DrunkDiaries@hotmail.com

I had a nice talk with my son today.  He is really excited and sounds so happy to be reconnecting with his friends here in town.  

I haven't been going to meetings much lately and having him around makes me want to set the example, so I guess that's a good thing.

I know I jumped in my blog from the getting sober part to present day, and I will get back to that.  I just thought that you should know that as you progress in your sobriety, things do get back to normal and you can be an asset to others.

When I first got sober, I wondered what I could ever have to say that would benefit another person?  The truth is, you never know.  

When I go to a meeting, I may share, and after the meeting someone comes up to me and thanks me for my share.  Funny thing is, even now, I don't really remember what I said.  That's God, speaking through me, telling someone just what they need to hear.

Pretty fucking cool, eh?

Have a good night. ♪ ♫ ♪

I'm Still Here

I am still sober.  I haven't written for a few weeks, but I wanted you to know...I haven't fallen off the map.  Work, home life, "me time", family troubles...it's a tightrope sometimes, a balancing act.

I have passed on my disease to my child, and have been concerned with his well-being.  I am glad that I am in a position to be present and supportive of him.  I thank God for that.  

I also thank God for my wonderful boyfriend, who has taken to my son, and is a great mentor for him as well.  And is always there for me, to remind me what a great mom I am - because I wasn't always.

To anyone who is new in sobriety, it does get better, and you get the gifts over and over as time goes on. 

Tomorrow, I get to just hang out with my son and enjoy a beautiful day...


Keep coming back.

Please check out my Facebook Page and follow me on Twitter

Sober Saturday

So, here I was in rehab.  I was the complete opposite of "all dressed up and nowhere to go."  I had my grey sweats, plaid flannel p.j.pants, four pairs of socks, four pairs of underwear, a bra and some tennis shoes.  

So I thanked God when I was one of the other residents said she would take me shopping during free time.  "Yeah, you can't go by yourself, cuz you just got here, but I'll take you.  You got money, right?"  I didn't have much, but one of the other girls said Old Navy was having a killer sale.

So after what seemed like the longest orientation and group session, off we ran.  We only had about 2 hours, and had to walk at least 20 minutes to get there...it gave us a chance to talk a bit, and for me to thank her profusely for doing what I considered to be a huge favor for me, a virtual stranger.

As for the shopping, I was impressed.  I had never shopped at Old Navy before.  I got 2 pairs of jeans for 98 cents each, a jean skirt. and like 5 short and long-sleeved knit tops and t-shirts.  I also got a pair of flip-flops.  I spent less than sixty bucks.  Thank you, Old Navy.  =)

I have always been proud of my ability to stretch a dollar.  But I was more proud of the fact that I was taking care of myself, doing something for me.  I picked up a little make-up, some shampoo and shower gel - things to pamper myself.  It felt really good.  I couldn't remember the last time I bought myself anything to help me feel nice. 

And I had never made such an investment of my time and resources as taking a month off work.  But this was an investment - in me.  And I damned-well deserved it.  It may be a while before I believe that I deserve it, but that doesn't mean it's not true. 

Those comfy new clothes came in handy on Sunday...I took my free time and went for a walk on the beach.  It was amazing to enjoy the sand, the surf, the sea gulls, just the freedom that was beginning to wash over me.  


I never had to drink again, if I so chose.  And the idea of living a life free from the bottle sounded pretty friggin' awesome to me.

 

Coming Out Of the Haze

After a few days of eating right, sleeping and NOT drinking, I was beginning to come out of the haze I'd been in...slowly.  I found that I was so used to isolating, I was now resisting invitations to "socialize."  

When I say socialize, I mean to attend self-help groups.  I barely remember the first few groups.  Right now, I am trying to think of something we discussed or did.  Oh, I remember that we stood and did simple exercises, like rolling our shoulders and swinging our arms.  And when I say "we", I mean everybody else, and me a little bit, when I wasn't dizzy.

By this time, I honestly think that the alcohol was mostly out of my system.  I felt the light-headed-ness and wobbly knees were due to the damned meds.  Why the hell I had to feel so drugged-up, I still didn't get.  I was already sick of it.

By the time evening rolled around, one of the nurses poked her head into my room.  "Grace, do you feel like going to an AA meeting?"  

"Not really."  She strongly suggested that maybe I should go.  Dammit!  I wanted to be alone.  But I went to the meeting.

It turned out that the other three people attending the meeting were more out-of-it than me.  I couldn't believe it.  Wow.  And I thought I was fucked up.  

I listened to a young guy tell his story of addiction.  I vaguely remember it, but I didn't fall asleep, so I figured I was making progress.  Another woman around my age told a story I could more closely relate to, and I began to perk up a little.

They both had attended a local in-patient treatment program.  All I could think was how much I needed something like that, but how expensive it probably was.

The next morning, a hospital liaison called my insurance company.  I was covered for their 28-day treatment program.  I decided that was what I needed and wanted to do.  

By dinner time, I was settling into my new digs.  I had only my purse, cell phone, a few t-shirts, sweat pants and pajama pants, some underwear and socks, and my tennis shoes. Oh, and that pack of Marlboro Reds, bought during the "last hurrah."  And for the record, nobody was saying "hurrah" during my last days of drinking.  

After a brisk shower and a quick dinner, we were whisked off to an AA speaker meeting. 
Thank God it was a speaker meeting.  All I had to do was sit there and listen.  At the end, we said the Lord's Prayer.  

I had so much to be grateful for.

You've Benzo Good To Me

Benzodiazipines, (or "Benzos" as I came to know them) are the most commonly prescribed depressant medications in the United States today.  I was given Valium while I detoxed from alcohol.  I didn't like it one bit.


For one thing, because of my elevated blood pressure, they dosed me frequently.  I felt like I was being over-medicated.  My second day in the Detox wing, I slept for nearly 3 hours in the afternoon, and when I woke up, they told me it was time for my Valium.  


Really?  Seriously?  I told the nurse I didn't want it, because I just woke up from what felt like a coma.  "Okay," she said, "but if your BP goes up..." Yeah, blah, blah, blah.  


I wanted what was best for me, but I wanted to be conscious.  I mean, wasn't that a point of getting sober, to NOT feel totally fucked up?  On the other hand, I did let them take my BP frequently.  I mean, I didn't wanna seize either...

I also wanted to eat.  Oh, God, how I wanted food! 

When I was drinking, I was always broke.  I wasn't earning a lot of money, and was barely getting by.  And alcohol is not cheap.  I was having a lot of stomach problems, so I wasn't eating right.


But in the hospital, I got three hot meals a day, and the food was really good.  Also in between meals, we had snacks - half sandwiches, cheese, apples, yogurt and lots of juice - that was available around the clock.  I was refueling at a healthy pace, and I needed it.  It felt so good to have food to eat.   And it was such a relief to finally be putting my dirty little not-so-secret behind me, one hour at a time.


I took a walking tour around the ward.  Down the hall, there was a neon red sign on the door to another patient's room.  "Fall Risk" is what it said.  WTF?  Through the door, I saw a guy pulling himself up using a walker.  I thought he must have had surgery of some sort.  I could see that he had a huge abrasion on the side of his face.  I found out later that he had fallen while in a blackout from drinking.  Wow.  


Another woman had a swollen face and  two black eyes.  I assumed that someone beat the crap out of her, perhaps an abusive spouse.  She had actually fallen and hit her head on a curb while drunk.

I was beginning to realize just how lucky I was to have walked myself into the hospital.  


I felt so grateful to have taken this step, and to be participating in my treatment plan.  I would continue to monitor the administration of my meds closely.   I was scared shitless of pills.  I wanted off the damned things ASAP.

But right now, I wanted some vanilla Yoplait yogurt and another string cheese.