Leaving It All Behind

Birthday

2011-06-28T21:08:00.000-07:00

May 24, 2011 was my first sober birthday in as long as I can remember and it was a more momentous occasion than I can express. Apparently. I say that because I have stopped and started this post more times than I can count. I couldn't figure out how to pull together into coherent sentences what my birthday party meant to me, what my friends meant to me and how that weekend was the genesis of a shift in my life that I didn't anticipate.

Five weeks later and I think I've managed to sort through it. I think. Let's see, shall we?

First thing's first: my party.

I wanted something intimate, so I had a dinner party at home with friends. It was a bit nerve-wracking, as I had never cooked for a group before and I wanted everything to be perfect. I also cringed at the thought that not everyone might click with one another.

Obviously, I had no reason to worry. To say it was a resounding success is an understatement. It wasn't just that the food was good or that everyone got along; it was even better than that. The energy in the room was so right, so warm. I've never felt anything like that before.

This is me opening presents.

Glowing much? This was the first time in my life I was excited opening presents. I didn't feel undeserving or self-conscious. I felt loved and I knew I was surrounded by women who wanted me to be happy.

That's Paola and Nina on the left. I am beyond blessed to have them both in my life, for many years now. And the one on the right, that's Kyle, also an old friend. She drove a couple of hours in traffic, 39 weeks pregnant, to be there for me. She rocks.

The two on the right in this picture, that's Amy and Krysta. I met them through, of all things, food blogging - Amy in 2009 and Krysta in 2007. They are now two of my best friends in the world. They live not so far from each other and had already met face-to-face a couple of times, but this was the first time I had met either of them in person. The morning of my party, they met up to carpool and then drove 6 hours to be with me for this occasion. I can't tell you how overwhelmed I am, still, that anyone would do something like that for me.

The whole night felt like one long laugh, one big hug. There was no drunkenness. There was no awkwardness. There was no judgment or conflict. I never knew this is how women could be together, but this is how women should be together.

The next morning, Amy and Krysta came for breakfast and a chat before departing for home and then I was left on my own to reflect. All I could think about the rest of the day was how grateful I was, how happy I was. Insanely happy. Like "being on vacation in Big Sur" happy, but with friends instead of with Steve. I didn't know birthdays could be like that. I didn't know friends could be like that.

I am thankful beyond measure.

However. In the midst of that most joyful weekend, the universe provided me a contrast that turned out to be a much needed lesson. On one hand, I had these amazing women show up to celebrate my special day, my sober life, my new-found happiness. On the other hand, I suffered a startling disappointment from an unexpected source, and one that set off a string of realizations that took me quite by surprise.

See, I invited someone else to my party, one of my oldest and, at one time, closest friends. She didn't show up. She didn't call or write, she simply didn't show up, and, when confronted about it, she told me lies. How do I know? As my dad always used to say, don't bullshit a bullshitter. There are a lot of little details that made me know, but they don't matter. The point is, it weighed heavily on me for weeks, even after finally seeing her and finding some closure about our now changed and diminished friendship. It wasn't that I was upset about her not coming. I was truly happy she didn't. The party would not have been the same with her there.

No, what was weighing heavily on me was the realization that the separation between us occurred because the life she is living right now is one I left behind and hadn't even realized it. It caught me utterly off guard, it did, when it dawned on me that it was gone. I don't mean a life with alcohol in it. Honestly, I won't go into the specifics of the life I am referring to in this space.

Suffice it to say that her current life represents to me the at times exhilarating life I once had that I will never have again and coming to terms with that brought up a lot of emotions. Those were times I still hold dear, more than I can explain. In watching her go through not-quite-the-same-but-similar times and how absorbed in it she is, it made me question what that life meant to me, if I had any regrets, whether or not I judge who I was and the things I did.

To be totally truthful, it also brought up a bit of envy and longing and sadness, for my youth (ack!) and for an old way of life that I can never have back. If you'll pardon the phrase, it brought about a mid-life crisis.

Now, I know I am not the first person to go through this, this mourning, nor will I be the last. As a matter of fact, Steve *just* went through this as well - very harshly - so, lucky for us, we got to work some of it out together.

Still. Common growing pain or not, it was a rough stretch getting through it. Figuring out how to leave my past behind without fully shutting the door on it. Figuring out how to incorporate the person I was with who I am now and the very different choices I have made for my future.

In the end, though, I kept coming back to one undeniable conclusion. If I am sure of anything, I am sure of this: I LOVE. MY. LIFE. NOW. I said those exact words out loud to Steve a few days ago and nearly burst into tears. I love who I am, I love my marriage, I love the friends with whom I choose to surround myself, I love the decisions I, and Steve, have made to provide ourselves with the future we truly desire.

I cherished my birthday party so, so much because it provided me with living proof of the stability and love I live in, but, in retrospect, it also served to intensely reinforce what my life is about now and why I have grown away from what it used to be.

It was a turning point, a shift in my priorities, my focus... it nudged me forward into true adulthood. In all these words and paragraphs, I still can't explain it as well as I wish I could. I really wish I could. It's just... I feel like a grown woman now. No longer crude and loud, needy or insecure, uncertain about who I am and what I want. I feel totally, deeply at peace. Happy birthday, indeed.

Every day, I bask in gratitude for this life I live now. I've said it many times before and will say it yet again: the life I thought I was waiting for is the one right in front of me. This "boring" life is anything but boring. It's fuller and more amazing than I could have imagined... I also know now, more than ever, that it's the only life I want.

I am happy.

Accepting Yourself

2011-04-22T10:11:00.000-07:00

"Every moment provides you the opportunity to move in the direction of your higher self or in the direction of stagnation or degradation."

A Dynamic Choice-Maker
Accepting Yourself
courtesy of Daily Om

There is no such thing as a good person or a bad person. There are choices and actions that lead us in different directions, and it is through those choices and actions that we create our realities. Sometimes we choose or do something that takes us in the opposite direction of the reality we want to create for ourselves. When we do this, we feel bad - uneasy, unhappy, unsure. We might go so far as to label ourselves “bad” when a situation like this arises. Instead of labeling ourselves, though, we could simply acknowledge that we made a choice that led us down a particular path, and then let it go, forgiving ourselves and preparing for our next opportunity to choose, and act, in ways that support our best intentions.

Many of us experienced childhoods in which the words good and bad were used as weapons to control us - you were good if you did what you were told and bad if you didn’t. This kind of discipline undermines a person’s ability to find their own moral center and to trust and be guided by their own inner self. If you were raised this way, you may find yourself feeling shockwaves of badness when you do something you were taught was wrong, even if now you don’t agree that it’s bad. Conversely, you may feel good when you do what you learned was right. Notice how this puts you in something of a straitjacket. An important part of our spiritual unfolding requires that we grow beyond what we learned and take responsibility for our own liberation in our own terms.

You are a human being with every right to be here, learning and exploring. To label yourself good or bad is to think too small. What you are is a decision-maker and every moment provides you the opportunity to move in the direction of your higher self or in the direction of stagnation or degradation. In the end, only you know the difference. If you find yourself going into self-judgment, try to stop yourself as soon as you can and come back to center. Know that you are not good or bad, you are simply you.

Yes. This.

2011-04-05T08:08:00.000-07:00

courtesy of my daily email from tut.com

If speaking to a spiritual novice during the darker days of human evolution, one might explain God, metaphorically, as if "He" were angry, testing, and judgmental.

To someone a bit more savvy, during easier times, one might explain God, metaphorically, as if "She" were always loving, nurturing, and forever conspiring on our behalf.

And to someone on the verge of a total breakthrough, during the latter days of human evolution, one might explain God by asking them to turn up the music, take off their shoes, walk in the grass, unleash the dogs, free the canary, catch a breeze, ride a wave, dance every day, get up early, take a nap, stay out late, eat chocolate, feel the love, give stuff away, earn it back, give some more, and laugh.... Really.

Really, really.

Catch a breeze -
The Universe

The Freedom To Be Myself

2011-02-20T17:45:00.000-08:00

In early October, I was invited to a dinner party in Los Angeles by a good friend who was visiting from out of state. The hosts were a rather popular couple of food bloggers and, along with me and my friend, the party was rounded out by another young, lovely couple and a sharp and funny gal who also happened to be a Los Angeles Times food writer.

I had a horrible night (sorry, Jen, if you end up reading this, but I did). For days and days afterward, I was absolutely traumatized. Socially traumatized. Over and over again in my head, I went through what I said, what I did, how I behaved. My stomach was in knots every time I rehashed it. I knew something was very wrong with that evening, wrong with me, and I couldn't quite figure out what it was.

It took me a good couple of months for it to really hit me: I wasn't myself. The entire night I acted how I thought I should act with these people, these "famous" bloggers, the writer. I wasn't at all me. And though I'm sure they don't realize that, I also know there's a good reason I have never been invited back, even though I live close by. I have no doubt the energy I gave off in their presence was not particularly appealing.

I'm not saying all this now to beat myself up. I grant that I was not quite a few months sober at the time. It was early. I was not feeling emotionally settled and, really, I don't think I knew who I was yet; I was still peeling away the false layers I piled on during my years of drinking.

Still. It was a lesson, a hard earned lesson. I must be myself. Because if I am not, my mind and body will stage an excruciating revolt.

This realization sat in the back of my mind for a few weeks and solidified itself, ultimately, in a dream. In the dream, I was speaking with a couple of girls I knew in childhood, telling them that I finally figured it out, that I don't have to have social anxiety any more, ever, because I know the truth. And the truth is that I don't have to be perfect.

When I meet new people (or hell, even when I get together with the old ones), I don't have to say all the right things or behave a certain way. I can say something silly and not panic that no one will ever want to hang out with me again. I can let the conversation lag a bit when I am trying to get to know someone new, since I don't have the ease of familiarity and time yet.

All of us are putting ourselves out there, just doing the best we can to connect with one another, aren't we? And I can, too.

I woke up smiling. I felt rejuvenated. Aware. Deeply happy. For the first time in years, I knew I could go out in the world and be with others in a state of serenity and trust.

I carried this truth with me for weeks and it only continued to get stronger. Then, a couple of Saturdays ago, Steve and I went down to San Diego for a good friend's birthday celebration. There was a great dinner and then afterward, we all headed down the street to a club where said friend was spinning a set around midnight.

So many times I danced and smoked and talked ever so loudly and incoherently with people in clubs just like this one. I would wake up the next day wondering if people thought I was an idiot, if I said ridiculous things, if I looked stupid on the dance floor. I hadn't done much of this music stuff sober yet.

We arrived at the venue around 9:30 and for the next few hours, we watched people drink and chat and flirt and dance and we listened to each of the DJs doing their thing. And yes, it felt like a different world without a drink in my hand. But somehow so good. And around 11, as I was bopping around to the funky tunes that were playing, I stopped, turned around and looked at Steve and said:

"I love being sober. It gives me the freedom to be myself."

God, what a gift.

I danced and danced the rest of the night away, not caring how I looked because the movement of my body was natural, spontaneous. I talked and laughed with friends and new acquaintances alike without worry because my words were coming from a clear heart, a clear head. I was being me, fully present, fully engaged. Honest. And silly. And having the time of my life.

And if people didn't like me after that? Well then it was definitely their problem and not mine.

Social anxiety, be gone. Be. Gone. And don't you ever come back.

Dirty Truths

2011-01-31T22:43:00.000-08:00

Recently I was having a conversation with a very close friend about her brother, who is addicted to opiates. We were discussing how he can't seem to get his head in the right place to find a solution - he thinks he's on the right track sometimes, he talks of getting away (hello, geographical cure), and of straightening up - but it's just... all wrong. Poor guy. Anyway, she was telling me how I am not the same as him because I was strong and knew what I had to do to stop drinking. I recognized that I had a problem and I did something about it.

And while I know she was saying that kindly and lovingly and she meant it, I also knew she was wrong. I am no different than he is. No different than any addict. Not then, not now. Put a drink back in my hands and I will turn right back into what I was: a sick, active alcoholic.

When I see other people out in the world struggling with alcohol, drugs, food, cigarettes, on and on and on, I remember to never look at the differences between them and me, but to look for the similarities, to practice infinite compassion. Because I must. Because I know we are all fighting the same fight. Yes, some addictions are a bit more grave than others, no doubt. And some of them wreck our lives harder and faster than others.

But the deep down uncomfortable truths of our lives are, in all likelihood, the same.

The truth is there was a lot of lying. A lot of daily white lies about why I was so tired, why I was so cranky, about how much I drank or didn't drink.

The truth is I carried around a massive amount of shame. Crippling shame. I could never look anyone in the eye when I spoke to them because when I did, I thought they could see right through me to what I was... nothing more than a sick, worthless, disgusting, stinky alcoholic. I felt ugly all the time, inside and out. Certainly not like a valuable human being. And most certainly not like a woman.

The truth is I was abusing my body to a horrific degree. I had sleep problems. Obviously. And skin problems due to constant dehydration. And respiratory problems from all the smoking I did along with my drinking. Stomach and digestive problems so painful they kept me out of work for two-day stretches. Kidney infections and bladder problems. And of course there was the panic and worry over all of those issues, compounding them, making them even worse.

The truth is that sometimes I would get so drunk so fast on any given night that I would throw up and pass out and wake up wondering how I got in bed, if I ate, if I got on the phone with some unfortunate friend and talked their ear off. I probably had dozens and dozens of blackouts in the course of a few years. I blanked them out. I made myself not think about them because when I did, I was immobilized by anxiety.

The truth is I used to bring home alcohol in the evenings and be itching to get into it, and I would drink and drink until I was head-spinning drunk, stuff my face, go to bed in a daze, wake up in pain, promise myself I would stop, berate myself and beat myself up mentally all.fucking.day.long., go home from work... and do it all over again. To paraphrase Tara, it was like living in a nasty version of Groundhog Day. Living the same day, the same awful day, for years on end.

I am constantly spouting joy in this space - and yay! there's nothing wrong with that! - but just because I have had, in my estimation, a very lucky, happy time of it being sober, that doesn't mean I have forgotten these truths. Like I said in my previous post, The Reality Of It, I have to remember the reality so that I have armor against the "I can just have one" mentality, if and when it surfaces in my consciousness.

And if I have to tell the truth now, I am putting them down here in this space not so much for me as for anyone who knew me before, reading this now, who didn't know how bad it was. Which is everyone, really. I was actually angry about that at first, that no one seemed to get it. But then, how could anyone get it? No one was here to see it.

But those are the dirty truths of what my life was. So yeah, I wake up happy as hell every single day now because you can't imagine how damn thankful I am that those are no longer my truths. I feel worthwhile now. I feel feminine. I feel healthy. I feel full of hope and love and laughter. And I am free of shame.

And I will keep fighting the good fight for myself, every single day, to make sure it stays that way.

Six Months

2011-01-28T22:33:00.000-08:00

It has been six months since I last had a drink.

As this milestone has approached, I have had a lot of different things on my mind - wonderful things! - recent changes, realizations, shifts in perspective. So much I have started writing about and haven't finished yet. But instead of pressuring myself to finish, instead of rambling on about all the change and junk... I'm just going to say this. For tonight, just this...

I am happier today than I ever thought possible. I knew. I always knew. That if I could just rid my life of alcohol, that underneath, I was a deeply joyful, optimistic, vibrant person. Someone who is not prone to melancholy or depression or getting lost in my own head. A peaceful, generous, happy happy happy woman.

Well, here I am.

I always thought I knew what it could be. But this is far beyond what I could have imagined. There are moments I am so happy I could burst into tears. Or burst into song. Or burst into spontaneous laughter.

Life is wonderful and awesome and everything and nothing like I expected it would be without alcohol in it. I don't miss it at all. I am proud of myself today, I really am. And, as always, so profoundly grateful.

Finding Our Life's Work

2011-01-25T13:08:00.000-08:00

I know I've been posting a lot of Daily Om's but I really want to save this one. This right here, this is how I feel about food and cooking. Whether or not I ever do it for money, it doesn't matter. It is deeply, deeply fulfilling to me in a way that nothing else is. I spent 11 hours in the kitchen on Saturday and, though tired and sore at the end of the night, could not have been happier.

And I must of course emphasize that, without sobriety, it would not be possible to have this joy in my life the same way. Sobriety has allowed me to devote so much more mental and physical energy to it than I ever thought possible. To flourish. To discover and to continue discovering. I am so grateful.

Feeling Our Life
Finding Our Life's Work
courtesy of Daily Om

Sometimes it takes us the better part of a lifetime to discover our life's work, even though we may have been doing it our whole lives without necessarily realizing it. Our life's work is not always what we do to make money, although we often think it should be, and sometimes this way of thinking prevents us from seeing clearly what it is. It may be the work of having children, caring for them, and running a household. The way we know our life's work is by how we feel when we are doing it.

When we are doing our life's work, we feel an uncanny sense of ease and alignment. This doesn't mean that the work is always easy, and it doesn't mean that it' the only work we have to do; it just means that there is a conviction deep inside us that tells us we are in tune with our innermost self. When we are engaged in our life's work, our bodies feel more alive, because our energy is devoted to a cause that, in turn, feeds us. We may be tired after engaging in our life's work, but we are almost never depleted. We feel grounded in the world, knowing that we belong here and have something important to offer.

When we are deeply unhappy, depressed, or subject to one illness after another, this may be due to a sense of disconnection from our life's work. At times like these, finding the work we are meant to do is an essential act of healing. Most of us remember a time when we felt fully engaged in some act of work, service or creativity, and it is here that we may rediscover the work we are meant to do now. On the other hand, it may be time to explore what inspires us through volunteering, taking a class, going back to school, or just doing whatever it is we long to try. We all have callings, and when we find them, we owe it to ourselves to nurture and protect them, because while they may or may not be our livelihood, they are the keys to our wellbeing.

Permission to Forgive Ourselves

2010-12-30T10:44:00.000-08:00

Permission to Forgive Ourselves
Releasing Guilt
courtesy of Daily Om

Learning to accept the things that we perceive as wrong can be a difficult task for many of us. Often we have been brought up to accept that it is normal to feel guilty about our actions and that by doing so we will make everything seem alright within ourselves. Even though we might feel that we have a reason to make up for the choices we have made, it is much more important for us to learn how to deal with them in a healthy and positive way, such as through forgiveness and understanding.

When we can look back at our past and really assess what has happened, we begin to realize that there are many dimensions to our actions. While feeling guilty might assuage our feelings at first, it is really only a short-term solution. It is all too ironic that being hard on ourselves is the easy way out. If we truly are able to gaze upon our lives through the lens of compassion, however, we will be able to see that there is much more to what we do and have done than we realize. Perhaps we were simply trying to protect ourselves or others and did the best we could at the time, or maybe we thought we had no other recourse and chose a solution in the heat of the moment. Once we can understand that dwelling in our negative feelings will only make us feel worse, we will come to recognize that it is really only through forgiving ourselves that we can transform our feelings and truly heal any resentment we have about our past.

Giving ourselves permission to feel at peace with our past actions is one of the most positive steps we can take toward living a life free from regrets, disappointments, and guilt. The more we are able to remind ourselves that the true path to a peaceful mind and heart is through acceptance of every part of our lives and actions, the more harmony and inner joy we will experience in all aspects of our lives.

Bursts

2010-12-25T23:09:00.000-08:00

Sometimes I have these moments, these little bursts of unbridled joy and I just have to jump up, find Steve, hug and kiss him and tell him how happy I am. As a matter of fact, I had one just now.

***********

Tonight seemed like a good night to drink. But I did not drink. Instead I enjoyed my first sober (and not hungover from the Eve) Christmas in many years. Gifts were great, food was spectacular.

We watched It's A Wonderful Life. Only last year did I realize how deeply meaningful that film really is. Not only because of the last part, the whole "what if you had never been born part," but because it talks about how we, as individuals, have dreams about what we think we want our lives to be and sometimes we have to sacrifice and change our plans, and our lives turn out far different than what we had hoped. And yet, of course, that life we end up living turns out to be everything we wanted, the source of our real happiness, and full of all the things we never even knew we should have been dreaming of in the first place.

I've talked about these things before in this space, and how only when I stopped drinking did I realize that the grand life I thought I dreamed of, that I thought I had been waiting for, was the one in front of me the whole time.

Today was a wonderful reinforcement.

I know today that I have a husband who loves me unconditionally, loves me not because of what I may accomplish or achieve, but just because... just because. Because he likes spending his life with me. I'm not sure when I started thinking that wasn't enough, that I had to be something more, but I laugh about it now, as I come back to the beautiful reality that is my marriage. And the reality that is my life. I have so many friends - god, so many friends. How in the world did THAT happen? Surely, I don't know. But I am so lucky to have them, all around me.

Merry Christmas everyone. And I hope your day was as lovely and peaceful and full of happy bursts as mine was.

Living Wholeheartedly

2010-12-10T22:11:00.000-08:00

"Vulnerability is the core of shame and fear and our struggle for worthiness but it appears that it's also the birthplace of joy, of creativity, of belonging, of love..."

To say this video is worth a listen would be putting it mildly. Please listen.

(Thanks for posting it Ellie.)

The Reality of It

2010-12-06T23:06:00.000-08:00

So, apparently, I've quit smoking. It's been a full week now. I hadn't intended to do it. But last week I was siiiiiick. Sickity sick sick. So I didn't smoke. And here I am. I was only smoking 3 or 4 per day as it was, so I'm sure I'm having an easier time of it than many of my amazing friends who have quit this past year (*waving at Jess*).

I worked out today, my first day back after being ill and holy f*&king criz-nap, I could BREATHE. I haven't breathed that well in years and years. All the junk I expelled with my cold plus the non-smoking and voila, respiratory revelation. I think my old friend Kerri was right - all these "allergies," all my misery... I just needed to give up the cigarettes. Duh. Well, I shouldn't say "duh" yet. We'll see. But it's looking good.

Seriously? I can't possibly begin to recount my worries about my breathing this last few years. This is a Christmas miracle in the works. Like, I could cry happy tears JOY JOY. *Deep breath* Ahhhh.

So. There's that.

Anyway, I was reading Ellie's post yesterday and it reminded me of something I wanted to get down on (virtual) paper...

I was in bed with Steve a couple of weeks ago and we were talking about it being 4 months for me now and how different things are. And suddenly, acutely, I remembered. I remembered the despair and the panic panic anxiety panic pain shame inside that I used to feel every single day. That my life was in ruins, that everything was bad. That I was losing hope. Me. The eternal optimist. It was SO SO SO bad. God so bad.

And what's weird about, well, in my opinion, not only addiction, but any terrible things that we as human beings go through, is that it's so easy to forget how bad it really, really was. But it was. There is no mistaking it. In that moment when the memory enveloped me, and that horrifying feeling came back to remind me of what it once really was, I said to my husband:

"If I had continued the way I was, I would have literally gone insane."

I believe that. I was already halfway there. If you've been reading me for a time, you know that when I finally stopped, I made the observation that the first month was very strange, very blank, that something different had happened with my brain chemistry - it had "dropped" another notch lower with the last few months of my drinking.

If I had kept drinking, I don't want to imagine how I would have ended up. Would I have killed myself? I'd like to think not, but I really have no idea. My thinking was so skewed, about everything and everyone. It's painful to recall the horrible things I thought about my husband, my friends, my family, my coworkers. All of it untrue. Blatantly untrue. And alcohol did that to me.

I poisoned myself. I poisoned my own mind and stole sanity and happiness away from myself. I am simply lucky that the damage I did was negligible. Having read so many stories now, I am luckier than I ever imagined.

I must never forget how deep the darkness really went. I must never forget the real truth. I don't need to rehash and I don't need to let it rule me, but I need not ever truly forget. Remembering the reality of it is a pretty powerful tool in my arsenal for future moments of "maybe I can just have..."

Because I can't. And that's okay. That's more than okay. And I'm grateful for the opportunity to be here saying so.

Thanksgiving 2010

2010-11-26T22:30:00.000-08:00

My food be here.

What I give thanks for this holiday weekend:

My almost 4-month sobriety
My wonderful, god so wonderful, husband Steve
My amazingly large, supportive circle of friends
My very patient mother and crazy-in-a-fantastic-way sister
My adorable and loving cat Andy
Food bloggers
Sobriety bloggers
Abundant food to cook and enjoy
An extremely stable job
A lovely apartment that we have made as cozy and pretty as possible

I try to remind myself of these things not just today, but every day, so that I never again return to stagnation, self-pity or confusion.

Today is good. Life is good. I am grateful.

Enduring Discomfort

2010-11-21T00:06:00.000-08:00

Enduring Discomfort
Missing Our Old Habits
courtesy of Daily Om

Whenever we make the effort to free ourselves of an addiction or a habit we no longer need, we are often surprised to find ourselves missing the old pattern as we would a familiar friend. This sounds counterintuitive, because we think we should instinctively gravitate toward that which is good for us. And yet, it makes a lot of sense when you consider that we humans are creatures of habit. This is why we gravitate to people and places — and patterns of behavior - that make us feel comfortable. Therefore, many of the habits we form are not conscious and are based instead on learned behavior from role models who were not always making the healthiest decisions.

Most addictions begin as a way of avoiding feelings that are extremely uncomfortable, so it makes sense that stopping the addiction means, for a time, a fair amount of discomfort. The same, of course, is true of habits that we have developed over time that we are ready to release. Just knowing that this is hard, and having compassion for ourselves as we work through this process, can help us to stay the course when we feel the urge to backtrack. It's also helpful to remember that in time we will establish new, healthier patterns, and the yearning for the old ones will disappear. Eventually, we will instinctively reach for things that are good for us, and the longing for positive change may form the basis of a new habit.

The only way to get to this new place is to endure a time of difficulty, which is a challenge we can confidently handle, if we remember that it will lead to the change we seek in our lives. Our bodies, hearts, and minds always need time to adjust to a new way of doing things, but they will adapt, and even become our allies, if we remain true to our vision of a new way.

Versus

2010-11-16T21:18:00.000-08:00

I used to wake up thinking... holy shit how am I going to make it through the morning, my eyes hurt, I feel vomity, I look like hell.

When I got up this morning, my first thought was how much I was looking forward to my day, to working out later, to making another wonderful no recipe dinner, to hanging out with Steve, sober.

9:00 in the evening used to mean I was about three quarters of the way in to the drunk I would achieve for the night, nothing had been done, my house was full of chaos and noise, and I was likely finishing or in the middle of a phone conversation I would only half remember (if I was lucky) the next day.

It's 9:00 now. I exercised for an hour after work, dinner has been cooked and eaten, laundry done, dishes washed, lunch made for tomorrow. My cat is purring by my side and my husband is waiting for me on the couch.

I used to beat myself up so hard every day. I was so full of shame and anger and regret. Every day, so miserable.

Most of the time, I am happy and at peace. Content. Sometimes I'm also tired, frustrated or irritable. I'm human. But nothing cannot be dealt with now that alcohol is out of the picture.

It amazes me how much has changed in 16 weeks. What "used to be" seems like a dream. I have to work to keep it that way, but it sure is lovely to stop and reflect on it too. The comparison up there is astounding, at least to me.

Life is good. And I am grateful.

Surrendering the Ego

2010-11-08T15:28:00.000-08:00

Surrendering the Ego
Dark Night Of The Soul
courtesy of Daily Om

Whenever a word is overused, it is most likely being misused, and over time, it begins to lose its meaningfulness. For example, we often refer to a fleeting feeling of depression or a period of confusion, as a dark night of the soul, but neither of these things qualifies as such. A dark night of the soul is a very specific experience that some people encounter on their spiritual journeys. There are people who never encounter a dark night of the soul, but others must endure this as part of the process of breaking through to the dawn of higher consciousness.

The dark night of the soul invites us to fully recognize the confines of our ego's identity. We may feel as if we are trapped in a prison that affords us no access to light or the outside. We are coming from a place of higher knowing, and we may have spent a lot of time and energy reaching toward the light of higher consciousness. This is why the dark night has such a quality of despair: We are suddenly shut off from what we thought we had realized and the emotional pain is very real. We may even begin to feel that it was all an illusion and that we are lost forever in this darkness. The more we struggle, the darker things get, until finally we surrender to our not knowing what to do, how to think, where to turn. It is from this place of losing our sense of ourselves as in control that the ego begins to crack or soften and the possibility of light entering becomes real.

Some of us will have to endure this process only once in our lives, while others may have to go through it many times. The great revelation of the dark night is the releasing of our old, false identity. We finally give up believing in this false self and thus become capable of owning and embracing the light.

Silence

2010-11-06T21:53:00.000-07:00

I love silence. Sometimes I spend entire evenings bathed in it. Since I have no kids (a topic for another time) and no loud animals (okay, sometimes Andy gets quite vocal), there is nothing to really create much noise in my home life. When Steve is in the back of the house and I am in the front, which is how we usually - happily - spend 50 percent of each evening, I am left in complete silence, if I choose. And I do. And it's bliss.

When I was drinking, I couldn't stand to be in silence. I had to have the TV on in the background, I had to be on the phone, talk talk talking away. I had to be doing something, anything, all the time. There was never quiet with drunkenness, always there was noise and motion, even if it was only in my head. Especially when it was only in my head. I used to wake up some mornings, immediately try to recall the previous evening, and get this flash of NOISE in my brain. Nothing clear, nothing quiet.

But that is no longer true. The last 102 days have been full of silence. Meditative silence.

Not drinking is the greatest thing I have ever done for myself. It's something I have to choose every single day, but it is worth making that right choice over and over again. I've been struggling with esteem issues this last few weeks, but I just keep doing the next right thing each day, and it's all I can do. And at the very least, I have reclaimed my precious, beautiful silence.

Acceptance

2010-10-09T22:37:00.000-07:00

I wanted to drink yesterday.

After 10 weeks of sobriety, if you ask me on a daily basis if I want to drink or if I miss drinking, I will say no. I don't miss the shameful mornings or the anxiety or the social idiocy or the physical exhaustion; those things are surely obvious. But I don't miss the physical act of drinking either. I was one of those alcoholics who never liked the taste of alcohol. I would take the first shot each night like medicine, wincing and sometimes gagging as I put it down, letting it burn my insides. My body was telling me no, but I kept forcing more poison on top of the nasty amount that was still with me each day. Hair of the dog indeed.

So when the urge struck yesterday, randomly, in line at Henry's staring at the mints by the counter, I was taken aback. My thought process:

"Drinking would be really fun tonight."
(surprise registers)
"Yeah but I can't. (sigh) Man, it sucks* that I can't drink."
(immediate response from inner voice)
"Well, you can't. Accept it and move on."

That was a great moment. A wonderful, distinct mental step. It makes me feel like I am truly standing on solid ground. No more bargaining can ever be allowed.

It also reminds me of the Serenity Prayer. "Accept the things I cannot change." Well, one of the things I cannot change is the fact that I can't pick up that first drink ever again. And I accept that. I accept that.

So happy.

(*I don't actually think it sucks. Not even close.)

60 Days

2010-09-28T11:10:00.000-07:00

Technically 63 days, 9 weeks, since the night I had my last drink, but my mom and sister finally made me solidify a date, July 28, 2010, as my first sober day. Hehe. Whatever. Two months sober. There it is.

I just re-read my 30 Days post and realize how far I've come in just this last month. Vacation was a big blissful part of that, sure, but it's also just the continuation of coming out of the fog. Of learning, of changing, of trying each day to be/do/think a little bit better.

I still don't know much, but I know this: I am no longer choked with fear and anger and shame every day. I am no longer a slave to vodka. I have a lot of love around me. I am beautiful. I am not permanently damaged. I am human. I can do this. I am never alone. I live in joy.

Pretty good, right? Worth trading 63 drunken nights for, I'd say.

Onward and upward. :)

Vacation 2010

2010-09-22T09:26:00.000-07:00

Okay, never mind the massive picture post. No way am I doing that again after doing it on Facebook. If any of you passing through would like to see photos, they are here:

Vacation 2010, Part 1 - September 11, 12, 13

Vacation 2010, Part 2 - September 14, 15

Vacation 2010, Part 3 - September 16, 17, 18

Rambling Man

2010-09-21T17:00:00.000-07:00

I stopped at CVS today during lunch to buy a pack of smokes. I waited at the register behind a tall, burly man who smelled slightly of alcohol. He had sunglasses on indoors and wore clothes that were cool probably 3 or 4 years ago. He purchased a jug of Popov and cranberry juice. At noon. As he left, all I could think was "that could have easily been me." Instead, I am 56 days sober today...

Steve and I just returned from a week-long vacation to our favorite places - Monterey and Big Sur. I can't say enough about our trip. It was everything I thought it would be and much more. I am so in love with Steve, more than I even knew. I thought the days of falling in love with him all over again were gone, but I was wrong.

And even more importantly, I am so happy with myself. I hiked miles and miles. I even hiked up a mountain. I didn't know I still had all that in me. I think I looked younger and more beautiful than I have in a long time. I was full of energy and joy - so much joy, in fact, that I happy cried on no less than five occasions.

None of this would be possible if I was still drinking. My gratitude is running deep. And my resolve is firmly in place.

I will be posting a massive photo set here shortly, for posterity and also for people who would rather view them here, on a single page, than photo by photo on my Facebook. So if you're still reading me here, I'm glad you will get to share in them as well.

And if I owe you an email or a blog visit, please forgive. I am catching up as best I can without letting myself feel bogged down. Those days are done. :)

Shift

2010-09-01T21:07:00.000-07:00

I was proud of myself today.

I had a nasty surprise when I came out from the deli where I met my friend for lunch. I got in my car and saw that something had hit my windshield (probably on the freeway on the way over) and there was a growing crack in the glass.

My first reaction was "what the fuck?!?" I clenched my jaw and started driving back to my office, frowning and muttering to myself all the while. I was thinking about how much it was going to cost to fix it, how we don't have that money to spend on top of our vacation.

But something strange happened about halfway through the drive. I stopped frowning, I relaxed in my seat and I said to myself "okay, it's going to be what it's going to be, you can't change what happened now, just accept whatever you have to pay for it and move on."

Huh?

Very unusual for me. I am so accustomed to becoming, and staying, angry/annoyed/bitchy/negative that this was a strange feeling. It was so out of character for me, in fact, that Steve really did not know how to take it when I called to tell him. I was so calm and nonchalant about the damn thing he thought maybe I wasn't telling him the whole story. I laughed. I said "no, I am just so calm these days and have no desire NOT to be that I am just taking it in stride."

It's hard to believe I have spent so many years being angry and sad. That little black cloud over my head was comforting to me. That doesn't make any sense, now, standing outside of it, but I know that was the case. I felt I deserved it, I felt it belonged there, and so I kept feeding it more negativity - beating myself up mentally every day for being a stupid drunk loser and then taking that out on other people, either by raging on the road or becoming irritated at every perceived slight or offense. My god, how horribly exhausting it all was.

It's arguably a small thing, that I stayed serene and happy today, but I didn't think it was small at all. It's another step toward letting that loving, joyful, peaceful woman I am shine through. It was awesome.

30 Days

2010-08-26T20:31:00.000-07:00

30 days today since I last had a drink.

I keep trying to sit down to write and yet the minute I do, I lose all motivation. I am simply enjoying myself, and focusing elsewhere right now. I am working on my spiritual health, first and foremost, talking to my girls, spending a lot of evenings with Steve, having a blast in my kitchen, and finding many small moments of serenity, which I grab on to like gifts. Eventually I may write more, but this is where my attention is right now.

What I can say with ease is that I finally feel really good. But unlike my last go back in March, I can also honestly recognize reality, i.e., I am not in a "pink cloud" phase. Those first few weeks sucked. Maybe my brain knew better this time than to make it easy on me, to trick me into thinking it was a breeze, that I could go back to trying to control... no, this time has been harder, physically and mentally, no doubt. But here I am.

Things aren't perfect and yet they are perfect just the way they are. Because everything in my life right now has the perspective of sobriety to accompany it, and, for me, it doesn't get much better than that.

That's Me

2010-08-15T14:41:00.000-07:00

Hi!

I'm still here. I'm still sober. 19 days now. And I am finally, FINALLY feeling joy. That first couple of weeks was a BITCH. I was telling a few people how I felt like I had literally knocked my brain down another notch with the last 10 weeks I was drinking because the couple of times I had quit before with any success, I had felt immediately happy happy happy. This time all I felt was blank. For two weeks. Blank with a side of inexplicable melancholy and mental imbalance. Yippee.

It hadn't occurred to me that what I had probably "knocked down another notch" was the happy hormones in my brain like serotonin and dopamine. Someone with many years of sobriety pointed this out to me - she could see how concerned I was over my state of "nothingness" - and oh my god I was so relieved because I recognized immediately that's what it was. I had the same feelings coming off of doing ecstasy on a couple of occasions years ago, that drop in those hormones for a week or two that follows use of MDMA, and that's just what it felt like.

So it finally passed. Since Tuesday night or so I have been very happy and finally on what I would consider an even keel. No longer out of it and weird and blank. That is seriously the most bizarre feeling ever.

Anyway... happy. I has it. And peace and quiet and balance. I no longer feel like I am teetering on the edge of a huge precipice.

And I think too that, in the evenness not coming so easily this time, it has made me a lot more vigilant against the insanity sneaking up, tapping me on the shoulder and telling me one night of drinking would be just fine. I am under no illusion any more that it would be just fine. No.

Going to AA has also helped keep me on that track, absolutely. In that vein, I'd like to leave something here, for keeps, that is read out loud at the beginning of my 12&12 on Mondays. It's the start of Chapter 3 of Alcoholics Anonymous (The Big Book). The first meeting I went to, the first time I heard this, all I could think was "OH MY GOD THAT'S ME!" Hearing it again and again only serves to drive the point home further. As I need it to, every day.

Chapter 3 - More About Alcoholism

Most of us have been unwilling to admit we were real alcoholics. No person likes to think he is bodily and mentally different from his fellows. Therefore, it is not surprising that our drinking careers have been characterized by countless vain attempts to prove we could drink like other people. The idea that somehow, someday he will control and enjoy his drinking is the great obsession of every abnormal drinker. The persistence of this illusion is astonishing. Many pursue it into the gates of insanity or death.

We learned that we had to fully concede to our innermost selves that we were alcoholics. This is the first step in recovery. The delusion that we are like other people, or presently may be, has to be smashed.

We alcoholics are men and women who have lost the ability to control our drinking. We know that no real alcoholic ever recovers control. All of us felt at times that we were regaining control, but such intervals usually brief were inevitably followed by still less control, which led in time to pitiful and incomprehensible demoralization. We are convinced to a man that alcoholics of our type are in the grip of a progressive illness. Over any considerable period we get worse, never better.

We are like men who have lost their legs; they never grow new ones. Neither does there appear to be any kind of treatment which will make alcoholics of our kind like other men. We have tried every imaginable remedy. In some instances there has been brief recovery, followed always by a still worse relapse. Physicians who are familiar with alcoholism agree there is no such thing a making a normal drinker out of an alcoholic. Science may one day accomplish this, but it hasn't done so yet.

Despite all we can say, many who are real alcoholics are not going to believe they are in that class. By every form of self- deception and experimentation, they will try to prove themselves exceptions to the rule, therefore nonalcoholic. If anyone who is showing inability to control his drinking can do the right-about- face and drink like a gentleman, our hats are off to him. Heaven knows, we have tried hard enough and long enough to drink like other people!

Here are some of the methods we have tried: Drinking beer only, limiting the number of drinks, never drinking alone, never drinking in the morning, drinking only at home, never having it in the house, never drinking during business hours, drinking only at parties, switching from scotch to brandy, drinking only natural wines, agreeing to resign if ever drunk on the job, taking a trip, not taking a trip, swearing off forever (with and without a solemn oath), taking more physical exercise, reading inspirational books, going to health farms and sanitariums, accepting voluntary commitment to asylums. We could increase the list ad infinitum.

To read the rest, go here.

Take Two

2010-08-05T21:36:00.000-07:00

I went again tonight, went to my second meeting. It was good. I really like going to an all woman group. We cry and laugh about things that only women can do together. It's nice. And for right now, it's all I want. It's comforting.

When I walked in I found the one gal I recognized from Monday, Lisa, 18 years, and said hello. Only about 6 women from Monday's meeting were here, out of about 40, and the vibe was a little different, but wonderful just the same.

An older lady approached me and introduced herself and then asked if I would like to lead the meeting. I don't know if she knew I was a newcomer or not, but when I expressed my lack of knowledge at what to do (which is only half true), Lisa pulled up next to me and said "you can do it, don't worry, I'll help if you need me to." So I passed out the steps and traditions and promises to other women for the readings and I took my sheets with which to lead the meeting. I love reading out loud, so hey, it made me happy.

I opened, the steps and traditions were read, and then we read from the Big Book. They were just starting the portion of the book with personal stories. We read Dr. Bob's, one of the founders of AA. I've heard about him all my life (and I kind of picture him as James Garner because of that TV movie from years and years ago with James Woods as Bill W.), but I never heard his detailed story before. Good stuff.

Then the little sheet in front of me told me that the leader of the meeting was supposed to share her story, and speak for 3 to 5 minutes. Um. Okay. I kind of repeated again the thing about growing up in AA, as the majority of the women there with me had not heard me speak on Monday, and I said I never thought I'd end up there. Everything else I said was pretty scattered, just rambly. I'm not usually shy speaking in front of people, but I was caught off guard. I just said whatever came, and that's all I could do. I talked about how I had drank since my dad's death, how I continued drinking through a couple of years of grief and major problems with Steve, which were subsequently resolved. And how that was years ago, but I never stopped drinking and couldn't figure out how to stop. I had dozens of blackouts, I had so many mornings of self-loathing and anger and shame. And I am tired of living this way. I am tired of living with these perceptions, what I know are distorted, sick perceptions of what my family thinks of me, what my friends - *especially* my friends, online and off - think of me, what my coworkers think of me. I'm tired of being irritable and mean and socially awkward and crazy and stuck in my own poisoned thinking inside my head all the time. And I am tired of it so much I finally came for help. I bumbled though all this and maybe more for about 4 minutes and that was that. It was good.

I was talking to my friend Nina tonight on the phone and telling her that I was going and why I was going. And really, in speaking to her, one of the reasons I am going solidified itself. I am going to tend to my spiritual being, to care for myself. I am a deeply spiritual person... or I was. Alcohol has destroyed that in the last few years. And now I want it back. And this time, I cannot do it alone. I need the support and wisdom of others to help guide me. Of course, first, I have to go through the discomfort of surrendering my damn ego. It's not going to be easy; I am stubborn bitch. But it must be done.

I know I am also going to have to surrender to the idea that there is a higher force in the universe that wants me to be happy. I feel like it shouldn't be so hard, but it has become that way. Alcohol, my choices, have made it that way. But I do believe there is something greater. A force I've always known is there (though I do not call it god), the one that wants me to be the full spirit I can be. And I still believe with all my heart that there is an immeasurable amount of joy out there for me to experience. I just need to take the right steps to grab hold of it. It's just that unfortunately the first step will involve feeling like I'm jumping off a cliff... that fucking loss of ego again... *sigh*. I'll get there. I will get there.

I'm going to go watch cooking shows on my DVR now. I'm tired, still a bit scattered, but feeling pretty peaceful. Still, it's been a long day of work, cooking, a meeting, talking with friends and writing. <--- See, I can do it all. Hehe.

Balance

2010-08-04T20:14:00.000-07:00

I feel much better today than I did yesterday. I wasn't in a bad mood yesterday, per se, but I felt very unbalanced. I didn't even want to write that post about my first meeting because absolutely no emotion was coming through in my words, even though I felt awesome about it after I went Monday night. Yesterday I didn't feel awesome. I didn't feel anything at all. Totally blank. Out of whack.

Something has shifted. Somewhere between my stopping last week, my crying all day about my dad on Monday and my surrender that day made apparent in my decision to go to an AA meeting, something inside me has shifted. I'm seeing the world, myself, my husband, my friends, my coworkers all in a whole new light. Most... no, actually, all of it is very positive. Even the stuff that feels "bad" right now is positive. I know this.

And yet, yesterday, I felt a whole lot of nothing. About anything. Blank. Blank is the best way I can explain it. It worried me. Luckily, my mom came to my rescue. My mom, 40-year Al-anon, knew what to say. She asked me how long it had been. When I told her "a week" she said something to the effect of, "Melissa, that's fairly normal. You're going through changes still. Give yourself time. Don't worry so much."

Thanks Mom. Once again, you remind me to be gentle with myself.

Today I felt more "like myself." *Chuckle* Whatever that means. Not totally settled, but more serene than the previous 24 hours. I did want to drink tonight though. It surprised me since I had such a nice, peaceful day, but there it was. No reason. Then again, there never was a reason. Of course, with all the support I have available now, I knew I wouldn't. I have women to call and a lot of love around me. Steve has stopped enabling me too, in both speech and action (most importantly, speech) so that's another big help. He ain't gonna let me rationalize shit any more. Not that it's his responsibility, but I'm still grateful for it.

And now I'm done with dinner - which, if you've read me since I started, you know means the craving is 100 percent gone. Ah, how funny habits are. And I feel happy. Good. Balanced...

Speaking of balance, my mom and I also spoke about making time for everything in my life now that meetings are a factor. I told her I need time for myself, time to spend with the people who are important to me (which, with AA, may change, I know), time to write, time to read, time to cook. I know cooking, for those who don't love it, must seem like a strange thing to "need" to do. But if I did nothing else right in the last few years, I definitely did right by myself in finding my passion. Cooking for me is about far more than nourishing us physically. It nourishes me mentally and spiritually. It is at its essence a form of meditation for me. So I do need it.

But I also need to find a balance and a way to fit it all in, even though some of the meetings come at a time when I would be doing some of those other things, after the workday is over. When I explained this to my mom, she did not disagree and said I will find what works for me. But she reminded me that, with all the aspects of my life I need to prioritize, my spiritual well-being should come first. That is true. And so I need to shift my focus a bit.

Tomorrow is the womens group again, this time a Big Book study. I'm looking forward to it. I'll keep letting you all know how it goes.

First One

2010-08-03T13:58:00.000-07:00

I went to my first AA meeting last night. 6:15. Women's 12&12. A 12&12 was not my first choice for a first meeting, objectively speaking, but I knew it didn't matter. I knew I would hear what I needed to hear no matter what kind of meeting it was. And I did.

I walked in early while they were still setting up, just a few gals. I helped unfold the tables and chairs and get everything going while they all introduced themselves to me. More women started coming in the door; hugs and smiles and "good to see you's" were exchanged between those who knew one another. For just a moment, I had the thought that I wanted to run, not walk, to the nearest exit. And I swear it was not because I thought "oh my god, AA, I can't do this," it was really because "oh my god, it's all women and I get jittery around so many women." But the moment passed and I stayed.

And really, deep down, I knew I wanted one that was all women. With my crying all day yesterday, I just didn't want to walk into a more masculine group with that going on, with my heart on my sleeve. Men are awesome in their own way and I don't mean to say that they aren't okay to cry with - my dad and Steve cried/cry freely so I hold no stereotypes - but... well, you know what I'm getting at. It's different with all women.

I sat and listened to the opening. I said the Serenity Prayer. Everything so familiar and yet so jolting, so moving. All the introductory paragraphs still perfectly memorized from my childhood (seriously, I was reciting the welcome and the steps along with the person reading, silently in my head). But I recognized myself in the words in a way I never had before. That's putting it lightly.

Then we read the topic for the evening. Step 8. "Made a list of all persons we had harmed and became willing to make amends to them all." As we read the pages out of the 12&12 out loud, about what harm really means, I kept shaking my head in amazement and amusement. HOW DOES THIS BOOK KNOW ME SO WELL?!? GET OUTTA MY HEAD! I had to laugh.

Anyway, it was awesome. They were all incredibly welcoming and warm. When they asked if I wanted to say anything, I said I thought I should just listen (I know that's what newcomers "should" do so that's what I said) but then I went on and told them that when a couple of them had said "welcome home" to me that it meant even more than they probably thought because I grew up here and my dad had so many years and it really did feel like home, all over again, but from a shockingly different perspective. I said I was stunned at how much I recognized myself in the pages. And that was all. I'll go back next week.

There's another meeting tonight, men and women, also right near home, a Big Book study. When I told my sister I was going to go to that, she asked if I had a Big Book. I said yes, I have dad's on my shelf.

O_o

Surreal.

I went home from the meeting last night and opened it up. It's almost 40 years old. He put this leather cover on it that has the Serenity Prayer inscribed on the front and a little slot where you put your most current chip. So I have this nice gold XXXII chip in there (He was sober from January 1970 to April 2003 when he died; I think my mom has his XXXIII). I looked through the first third of it, the familiar parts, a page here, a page there, and noticed he had written some notes in the margins and highlighted some stuff over the years...

And I know I should probably have my own. I think he'd want me to, I think most AA's would tell me to as well. But I like looking at his right now. It's comforting.

I'm tired today. Feeling good overall. A little scared about how this will change me, and how this will change me and Steve. But I can't think about that at the moment, I know I can't. And that's it for now.

AA

2010-08-02T12:55:00.000-07:00

I almost went to a noon meeting today. I actually went to my local county website and looked up meetings in my area. The only reason I didn't is because I hadn't planned on it this morning and wasn't sure how I would also be able to eat lunch. But I am on the verge of going. It is almost a certainty now that I will find a place near me for an evening meeting this week.

I have been very hesitant to go to AA. There are a number of reasons for this, not including the most obvious one - i.e., admitting I am an alcoholic, feeling nervous or ashamed to go, etc. That wasn't the case. I grew up in the clubs. They still feel like home to me, or at least they did last time I was in one years ago. No, it had a lot more to do with my ideas about god (or lack thereof) and my stubbornness.

I am such a know-it-all. No one can tell me anything new. I was always like this to some degree or another, but it got worse this last couple of years of drinking. I spent a couple of years in 2005, 2006 pulling myself out of a dark hole created by unresolved grief over my father and major problems with Steve. I feel like I saved my own life. I did it by filling myself with spiritual knowledge, with the tools to heal my mind and my heart. I had no help at the time from my husband and I had no friends to speak of, so I did it all on my own. I was so proud. I still am, but...

For all my knowledge of Buddhism, Hinduism, Christianity, of meditation and self-examination and self-awareness, for all the brutal honesty with myself, to the point of ripping myself apart and putting myself back together again... all of that didn't keep me from being an alcoholic. It didn't keep me from descending right back into a dark hole this last two years. I can walk into a meeting thinking I know so much about how to help myself - and maybe I do "know" a little bit. I'm not going to stop feeling good about the fact that I figured out how to help myself stand on my own two feet once upon a time.

But knowledge doesn't equal wisdom. And maybe it's time I listened to the wisdom of others for a change. Change. That's really the key, isn't it? I learned so much, but I stayed stuck right where I was and haven't learned anything new. I've stagnated. Now it's time to move forward. Now it's time to admit that I don't have to stand solitary, that I can draw upon the strength of others to help me grow, to mend. What a relief that would be. I'm tired of trying to be so strong all the time. Support... support sounds really wonderful right about now.

Of course, I wish like crazy that my dad was here to talk to. My throat forms a lump and tears start to form just typing that. It's an understatement. My unresolved grief over my dad remains unresolved. I have spent the last 7 years forgetting him so that I wouldn't miss him. Drowning my grief. I know that's part of the "why" of alcohol for me because every time I stopped drinking, I would start grieving. And I couldn't take it. I loved him so immensely, his absence still hurts so hugely, I don't even know how to begin to truly move through it. It's just such a depressing irony that I started drinking when he died. I mean, really started drinking.

Why a depressing irony? Because my dad was 33 years sober - all 33 of those years spent in AA - when he died at the age of 60 in April 2003. He was helped and loved there and he helped and loved so many others in return. 200, 250 people showed up to his funeral and I can't even guess now how many were program friends. More than half? His funeral was run like a meeting, like he wanted. And everyone who got up to speak about him talked about his astonishing humility. He always knew he had more left to learn, even though from his admiring daughter's perspective, he knew everything.

I hope I can learn to be humble like he was. I hope I can be half the wise person he was. I miss him so terribly. I think if he were here, he would be sad at what I let alcohol do to me. But I know he would also be proud of me for walking into one of those rooms. I want so much to talk to him right now.

I'm choking up and tearing up too much now, and I'm at work, so I'll end here for today.

Over and Over

2010-07-28T21:30:00.000-07:00

For some reason, I got it in my head that I was only allowed to write here if I was staying sober. I guess that's because it started out as my sobriety journal. But this is supposed to be a journal for me, for my thoughts, for my progression. I wish it wasn't so easy for me to forget that and always wonder what other people will think when they read it.

I had a rough day today, another Day One. I started out this morning angry as all hell and posted about it here. Deleted it 20 minutes later. It's still in the RSS so I can go back and see it, but I didn't want certain people to stumble across it and get hurt. Besides, I know that my anger, and the chemicals still floating in my brain, blind me and I would feel differently later. And I was right. I am not raging at my friends tonight. As a matter of fact, the universe sent me a reminder why I shouldn't be, right around lunchtime, and I had to laugh.

But I was no better off today than I was back in March, the day after I had my nervous breakdown. My mind and my emotions were all over the place. They still are, by the looks of this rambling I'm doing. I just want this time to be "it." I can't live like this any more. With distorted thinking, distorted perceptions, not trusting my own judgment, feeling crazy and sad and angry and lost.

I am no longer going to question my alcoholism. I will no longer try to control it simply because I have a spiritual belief that we create our lives, that we are in control. This is different. Alcoholism is different.

I will no longer allow Steve to enable me. I get the meaning of that word from my childhood now more than ever. He didn't mean to, and believe me, I need to remind myself of that lest I resent him for a false reason. I am just a very powerful force and my words are very convincing. So I need to stay brutally honest with him because in doing so I think he has finally started to understand what this really means. And I will allow him to help me, to help hold me up when I need it. Because sometimes I really, really need it. I don't mean to "fix" me but just be... a leaning post. I walk in tense solitude too often and forget I have a safe and loving person to hold me if I need him to.

I will also no longer worry about whether or not some of my friends think I am weak or think I am being silly or overly dramatic about my drinking (and no, these are not friends who drink). I don't know if some of them are, but it seems that way in my head, and that's all that matters because it affects my judgment. But I can't let those thoughts do that to me. I need to trust that I know what is right and wrong in my life and alcohol is so very wrong.

Save for the 9 weeks I stayed sober from March to May, I've been drunk nearly every night for 6 years straight. On a typical night of drinking, I would have 5 shots of vodka and a beer. Enough to feel pretty trashed. I would wake up every day exhausted and in emotional pain, dragging myself to work, wondering why I did it again.

Sometimes, usually on Fridays, it was more. The aftermath of those nights were the Saturdays I would wake up at 8:00 a.m., wondering for a moment how I got in bed, if I had eaten, who I had called on the phone and talked to death. The thoughts in my head running the gamut from "I'm stupid" to "Never again" to "I hate myself." Over and over and over. For years on end. I have destroyed my self-esteem and my own inner peace that I worked so hard for back in 2005, 2006. It absolutely kills me that I let that slip away from me. That I let music slip away, and reading, and so many other things I used to love.

I cannot moderate, I cannot bargain with myself. It doesn't work. I have to be starkly honest with myself, whether sober for a day or 10,000 days that, for me, it doesn't work.

My friend Rebecca once said to me "I love you, with or without the alcohol. But I think you deserve the life without it." And I know she's right. Deep inside, I still believe this. I don't hate myself. I am still the optimistic, spiritual, joyous, thoughtful young person I always was. I am strong. I am a wonderful woman. And I do deserve better.

So why have I kept drinking? That's the long-running mystery of it, I guess. The nature of the addiction beast. Knowing that when I am sober, I am happy and patient and kind, not only with others, but with myself... that when I am sober, I don't feel so crazy, my head is quiet, my thoughts are rational... that my optimism is present in full force... yet still drinking every night anyway? Well, as my friend Jen said this morning, addiction doesn't like logic. Word.

Just putting all this down for tonight as another good honest start. I am mentally shaky tonight, but I know tomorrow will be better and brighter and clearer. And the day after that and so forth. I will simply take each day as it comes.

Checking In

2010-07-12T21:36:00.000-07:00

Just checking in, here in this space.

I'm still here. I'm breathing in and out. I am sober, at least today, and that's all that matters to me in this moment. I'm content. I'm taking it one day at a time.

This blog was originally meant to be only for me. But before I knew it people were reading and I always think... how do I know what help may come to me by leaving this page open? How do I know I'm not also helping someone else? So for those of you keeping up with me, I thank you. I've had all kinds of posts tossing about in my head, about growing and having your friendships change, about AA, about my dad, about god and my beliefs. All of them are partial and I have more to add. They'll be solidified here soon enough.

Right now, tonight, I am going to enjoy the serenity I have. I hope you all are doing the same.

Again

2010-06-24T21:58:00.000-07:00

I have had a really hard time not drinking this past three nights. I don't know why. But each evening I've been on edge, mind racing, debating, until I get dinner on the table, after which drinking is not - and never was - an option. Drinking always had to come before, of course, so I could feel the drunk for all it was worth before putting food in my stomach. That's why I always cooked drunk these past few years and why I ate so late. Ugh. My health. But I guess the upshot is since I let that be the pattern for years, the urge vanishes entirely once I eat dinner. A saving grace.

As some of you lurking/reading this know, I have not stayed sober the entire 107 days since the night of March 8. I drank on Monday 5/10 and again on Friday 5/14 and on through the 19th when my mom came to town for my 35th birthday. She left 4 days later and then I drank all but about 5 days for the following 4 weeks. And here I am again. 1 week sober tomorrow.

I really don't know why these last few days have been so rough for that first couple of hours between work and food. What has stopped me is being honest with myself about how the vodka would taste terrible, as always, and how the vodka would burn my stomach, and how much I want to feel peaceful and calm and healthy and proud of myself. I know that drinking would not make my night better. It would only make it a point of shame tomorrow morning.

A positive note - I'm pretty chipper about the fact that I did not berate myself for drinking. I wasn't happy about it, obviously, but I did not let myself fall into a mental hole. At the very least, I suppose I'm grateful that I proved to myself that I cannot drink normally, drink socially.

But I did have a distinct moment that jolted me out of it. About two weeks ago, I woke up one morning and my first thought was "I hate myself." Yikes. It was like a big flashing red "DANGER" sign in my head. The thought came out of fucking nowhere. And I was amazed at how easily I went back to that after only 4 weeks of more alcohol. It startled me awake.

There will be no going back to that dark place for me. I refuse. I deserve better. And I will persevere.

Weekends

2010-06-21T18:01:00.000-07:00

I had a marvelous weekend. I got up very early both days and enjoyed what seemed like an eternal two days off from work.

I so love the way the light hits my porch in the morning. I stand outside with coffee, smoking on and off, going through my recipe binder and planning my food shopping. It's very peaceful.

I missed seeing what Saturday and Sunday mornings looked like for so many years. The only time I was up at 9 a.m. on a Saturday was when I drank so much the night before I had blacked out, only to wake up early needing food BADLY. I'd drag my ass out of bed, head pounding, still drunk, to the Mexican place down the street for a fat, greasy breakfast burrito.

As I drove, dizzy, my eyes stinging even behind my sunglasses, I would berate myself for drinking too much, again, not knowing what I said on the phone the night before to whoever was unlucky enough to get a call from me. I'd promise myself I would stop. I'd think about how much I hated myself and how I didn't want to feel that way any more. I wouldn't do it to myself again. But I always did.

Now, when and because I make that choice the night before to not pick up that first drink, my weekend mornings and early afternoons are so wonderful. I don't have to spend them recovering. I go shopping, I meet friends for lunch, I read, I watch my DVR, I cook or bake something complicated. It's just all so fulfilling, remembering the simple joys of living.

Every time I do this, I am deeply grateful. I hope it's a long, long time before I lose sight of that.

Ordinary Life

2010-05-26T21:45:00.000-07:00

I really enjoyed my evening tonight. I made chicken tortilla soup and tortilla chips from scratch. I answered an email. I watched Mythbusters. And now, after I get this thought down for posterity, I have cooking shows on DVR I'm flipping through.

Every night like this just reinforces why I want nights like this. Not nights where I get blurry drunk, say stupid shit to people on the phone, barely remember throwing together dinner and get up the next morning in pain, dreading work again, promising myself I'll stop doing it.

My moments of gratitude for the "small things" are still very strong. Over years of drinking, it was easy to forget what a calm, quiet, lovely Wednesday evening could be. I used to think if I got sober I would be bored, but nothing could be further from the truth. Cooking with my head and my heart, laughing with Steve, talking to my friends with total clarity, the humming of the dishwasher after kitchen cleanup, relaxing on the couch with my Andy next to me where I can pet her head. All these things bring me so much joy.

I suppose it sounds like another ordinary night in an ordinary life. But to me, these nights still mean everything. In these moments of doing nothing, of just living in a place of peace, I feel like my childhood - which I still yearn for so much - has come back to me. And that's like a dream come true.

My Adventure

2010-05-17T15:43:00.000-07:00

I just posted this status on my Facebook:

I don't think the adventure of my life is going to be what I thought it was going to be. But that doesn't mean I won't have an amazing adventure anyway. I may grieve what I think "should" have been or "should" be but my grief always gives way to optimism for something unexpected and beautiful to come in its place.

It's hilarious to me how sometimes some crazy hard-hitting realization can come to me at the most random time, here on a Monday, at my desk at work. Of course, it was partly because of this link my friend posted:

Up Engagement Shoot

The night I hit my emotional bottom, I tried watching this movie. Got through the first 20 minutes before I lost it. I mean I LOST. IT. I was crying and crazed and telling Steve how he has to take me somewhere before I die. I was mourning all that my life was supposed to be that I was erasing with alcohol and my idiocy and not knowing who I was any more... It was more complicated than that, but I just don't have the energy to type it right now. If you're reading this, well, you know.

So anyway, I knew that Up must have had an uplifting (ha) ending. I mean, it's a Pixar film. Still, I couldn't bring myself to watch it after that to find out.

But after I read this engagement post, after I read what the groom said about the "boring" things and about her being his greatest adventure, it occurred to me… how Up must end… what the message must have been. And I realized it’s what I've already discovered recently, much to my surprise. That maybe I don't have to travel the world for my life to be amazing. That maybe the life I live right now is enough. So I looked it up, the spoiler to the movie, and yep. Yep indeed. Here was the part I needed to read. It makes me choke up so hard thinking about it.

Dawn comes and Russell is upset and disappointed in Carl. His house is safe and on the ground now, but he has broken his promise to Russell. Russell gives Carl his scarf with his earned badges on it, saying that he doesn’t want it anymore. Carl grows very angry and shouts that he didn’t ask for this; all he wanted was to come down here and reside peacefully in his own house that he and Ellie built. He storms in and sits in his armchair. He opens Ellie’s book of adventures, and stares sadly at the page that she showed him so many years ago: “Stuff I’m Going To Do”. He turns the page, expecting blank pages, but to his surprise he sees pictures of himself and Ellie at various stages in his life. On the last page of the pasted pictures, he reads something that Ellie had written for him before she died: “Thanks for the adventure. Now go have a new one. Love, Ellie.”

I'm crying again and again each time I read it. I need to remember this. Steve and my friends have tried to tell me for so long that I am enough, that this life I am living right now is enough. Maybe I should start believing it.

Positives

2010-04-30T10:16:00.000-07:00

Day 53 and counting.

*When I wake up in the morning, my mouth doesn’t taste horrendous. And after I brush my teeth, it actually feels clean and stays that way. My mouth used to taste like something was rotting inside me, no matter if I used mouthwash multiple times.

*My hair feels like silk and my skin is soft and not splotchy.

*My eyes are bright and clear.

*My food experiences are vastly different and it's fun to find out how they keep changing. I used to eat so heavy all the time, i.e., hangover food. Now I crave fruit, sandwiches, vegetables and soups for lunch and well rounded dinners. Not every day, but they're at least in the mix. And everything tastes really good. I’m also eating at somewhat normal times, dinner usually by 8:30.

*I crave something sweet now about once a day. Even chocolate tastes good again. No longer does it leave a horrible aftertaste in my mouth or a bad feeling in my stomach, both elements as a result of sugar overload, I presume, since alcohol is a lot of sugar when broken down in the system.

*My sleep is deep and restful. It feels great. I am, however, tired much of the time. From what I've read, this will pass.

*I am so friendly to all my coworkers, friendlier than I’ve been in years. I think they’re all wondering what the fuck happened to me... though my boss first guessed what was wrong with me in 2005, and I know he must also realize what is now right with me. Smart man. Forgiving man. I should be grateful.

*I am able to get out and about socially without any regard to times, or driving arrangements, or whether or not I will have the energy. I love this.

*I can go outside without sunglasses and my eyes don’t burn like mad.

*I am re-learning how to cook, sober. Some people I already told this to… everything I ever posted on my food blog? I cooked it drunk. I always cooked drunk and always needed a recipe to follow. Now I can be so much more creative with my passion and it excites me.

*I am able to plan a weekly menu, lunches and dinners, and stick to it because I know I won’t be too drunk to cook or too hungover to want what I made for the next day. Damn, I wasted a lot of food.

*I’ve probably saved about $1,300 on alcohol and cigarettes (still smoking, but not nearly as much).

*Time is passing at a normal rate again. The first weekend felt like an *eternity* of free time. So cool. It’s the difference between remembering every moment and every day going by like a drunken blur.

*I can look people in the eye when I speak to them. I don’t just mean my close friends or family, though certainly that has improved. I mean my boss, my coworkers, cashiers, random people in line at stores who chat me up. I no longer walk with my head down or avoid eye contact. I always did that before because I felt like people could tell. They could see the shame inside, and they could see how run down I was on the outside. So I thought. I have found through talking to friends that this wasn’t actually the case, but self-perception is a bitch.

*I smile at myself in the mirror, often. Hee.

*Last night, I went through the entire evening with no anxiety, the way I was so long ago, thinking I was a totally fucking awesome human being and even that Steve was lucky to be with me. Hell. Yes.

The Liquor Store

2010-04-23T13:58:00.000-07:00

I read a story a few days ago on Crying Out Now. An alcoholic, sharing her tale of drunken days and her path to sobriety. There was a line in there that made me cringe, something about “telling the grocery store cashier we were hosting a party again.” It made me think about how, for a time, I would go to different grocery stores and liquor stores to try to hide that I bought alcohol every day. Apparently, this is a common behavior among us. It makes me laugh, in that "oh wow" kind of way. I never knew. We all like to think we're so unique.

Anyway, there was one place I went to very consistently in the last six years, and that was the liquor store a few blocks from my apartment. A sweet Korean husband and wife run the store now, and have for about half the time I’ve been buying from there. And they knew I wasn’t okay. They knew for a long time.

So I went home that day for lunch and on my way back to work, I stopped for cigarettes and bottled water. It’s the closest place for such items and, at least currently, I have no issue with going into a place with bottles of alcohol on the shelves.

Upon seeing me, the woman exclaimed "Melissa! Long time no see!" I was about to say something about why that was the case when she added "I heard you've been a good girl."

I suddenly recalled that two weeks prior when I went in for smokes, another cashier (a relative also) said something similar about me not coming in. I had told him at the time that I was a month sober and that's why they hadn't seen me. The husband was there that day as well and I guess he informed the wife.

I smiled and told her yes, it's been six weeks. I grabbed my waters out of the refrigerated case and approached the register. Our conversation continued.

"How about Steve? How is he?"

"Oh he's fine. He drinks maybe once a week now."

"Good, that's how it should be."

She commented how I was probably saving a lot of money. I added that my health was much better, my hair, my skin, my weight. I laughingly apologized for not spending money in their store like I used to and even the husband, who speaks much less English than his wife and usually let’s her do the talking, said "no, that's very good." She enthusiastically agreed and was very happy for me.

The couple who owns the liquor store is happy for me that I stopped drinking. Yep.

Leaving It All Behind

2010-04-21T22:01:00.000-07:00

I’ll break the chains of the life I used to live
And leave them where they lay
Nothing’s ever gonna get a hold on me that way again
‘Cause starting right this very minute
I’m declaring all things new
I’m stepping on the road to glory without end

Oh, yes, I’m leaving it all behind
At last I’m really free to be whatever I define
Oh, yes, I’m leaving it all behind
I’m being transformed right now
By the renewing of my mind

lyrics from "Leaving It All Behind"
by my dad, Tony Sheppard