A decade of honesty & self loathing – my journey with sobriety

It does not feel like ten years.

Just the other night I was “reminiscing” with friends about parties we went to and different events we somehow managed to crash and it felt like it was a LIFETIME ago.

No, it definitely does not feel like ten years.

People will ask me from time to time if I miss drinking and I’m like… “LOL YES?? I’m a fucking alcoholic….”

To me, being an alcoholic means admitting that I am powerless over drugs and alcohol. It means that I have a serious problem with moderation. It means that I cannot remember a time I drank that didn’t involve me getting sick, fighting or both.

For me, personally, it is not a daily struggle. Anymore. The first 3 years were the hardest and then it kind of became second nature.

I’m not going to lie and say there haven’t been triggering moments where I’m craving, wanting or even NEEDING a drink (a whole bottle, I never did “a drink”..) because those moments happened when I least expected them since day one.

It was more frequent in the beginning – like, everything triggered me wanting a drink.

  • Car won’t start? DRINK
  • Late for work? DRINK
  • Got yelled at? DRINK
  • Bills are late? DRINK
  • Short on cash? DRINK
  • Lonely as hell? DRINK
  • Someone said/did something you didn’t like? DRINK

And then it was just petty shit…

  • Woke up? DRINK
  • Went to work? DRINK
  • It’s the weekend? DRINK
  • Bored? DRINK
  • Saw booze? DRINK
  • STLL ALIVE? DRIIIINK
  • LIFE SUCKS ASS?? DRRRRIIIIINNK DAMNIT!!!

Somehow I made it through most of all that unscathed and I lived to tell the tale.

The hardest part of my recovery is the loneliness. I almost wrote “crippling loneliness” but it’s definitely not crippling, I’m just dramatic. It’s a very lonely world when you are not completely submerged in “the fellowship” – which in my experience is mostly a cult but maybe I haven’t found the right one……?

It’s hard for people to relate and they think you’re some boring ass-hat who doesn’t like to have fun. It’s like NO! I’m the epitome of fun! I know how to party, believe me!! I’ve been court ordered to rehab… TWICE! They don’t do that for people who DONT know how to party! Please be my friend! LET ME LOVE YOU!!!

Beyond the loneliness factor – I do have a SOLID group of friends who I wouldn’t trade for the fucking world. These are friends who keep me on my toes, engaged with the world and they love and respect me.

These past ten years have been so incredible. Mostly because I can remember most of it! I hate remembering it all but at the same time I don’t. It’s win/lose, you know?

Lose because the bad sticks with me forever until I have enough therapy sessions to let it dissolve and float away.

WIN because I have DONE and SEEN and EXPERIENCED some amazing shit in these past ten years. Things I never could have dreamt of, things that were never a possibility when I was active in my addiction.

Well, here I am… doing all that feelin’ shit.

Lol why are my neighbors screaming? Like, I know they are from Virginia but it’s NOT the first time it’s snowed and they are on the front steps yelling… athe snow. They do drugs. It’s fine, they smoke weed and I can’t judge them because they are older and they’ve lived their lives so if they want to get stoned on a Sunday afternoon and yell at the snow who am I to say shit?? But my WALL neighbors (the ones I share a wall with) are annoying as hell. Mostly the girlfriend that just moved in last year. The guy isn’t so bad and he’s hot but her voice echoes through these walls and penetrate your eardrum like a needle poking through a thick cloth. I want to slap her. I’m going to sleep with her man. Whatever. I’m a bad bitch.

ANYWAY – here is a journal entry I found from 2009 shortly after I sobered up:

“Leah and Mandi are drunk now, talking to these men as we sit under an umbrella in an already enclosed patio space. As I stare into the skeletal structure of this massive umbrella, the crisp static of conversations around me barely making its own at into my thoughts, I’m wondering how such an ill conceived idea as umbrella-d tables in a covered smoking patio came to be when I noticed a hand caressing my knee.

Not in a sexual advance kind of way, more of a friendly way, but he was no friend. Not even someone I could call an acquaintance. Just some tired old guy in a tired old gay bar trying to regain my attention.

The night was just a bunch of brief encounters full of compliments, insults & derogatory remarks (mostly from Leah and the man who eerily resembled Chris Frank).

I don’t know how we managed to break ties with these guys we were smoking with but I do remember Leah’s booming laughter trailed by “there’s too much estrogen here, let’s go to Pi”…

I chuckled nervously, she always knew what NOT to say. I look at my nails judging. They’re too square and I hate that. I always ask for round and for some reason they always make them square. I hate square. Square nails are gaudy. Square nails are for women without class, tact or grace. I don’t want to be at the bar anymore.

When I was younger I thought that sitting in a bar with a cigarette lit in one hand and a drink in another was the epitome of greatness.

In reality it was as me sitting slouched over a mug of rail vodka & dry ass cranberry juice listening to bad remixes of already bad songs… standing outside to smoke a cigarette while fat sweaty men hang all over their fat sweaty girlfriends.

I went to bars to drink away my problems at home. I drank at home to forget who I was.

I started drinking to be cool and have fun. I quit because I wasn’t cool and I wasn’t having fun.

I don’t know where I’m going, I barely know where I’m coming from. But… finally, I feel like I’m beginning to know who I am.”

And that’s that. I’m going to buy a pack of smokes and enjoy this beautiful snowy day.

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Motivation: there’s a time & place for everything

I have a very hard time pinpointing why I never do much of anything.

Do I lack motivation? Am I simply lazy? Is there a difference between lacking motivation and being lazy?

Why do I procrastinate? Why are all of my amazing ideas hidden in a Rubbermaid bin under my bed? Why do I never paint, draw, write, post my blogs, clean the bathroom, walk the dog, take bubble baths… the list is endless.

How does one motivate themselves? Is it as simple as repeating inspirational quotes to yourself in a mirror until you achieve your goal like positive self affirmations?

Do people have to learn how to become motivated or is it something you’re born with?

I honestly don’t believe my problem is that I lack passion. Well, actually, it could be. BUT I feel like I’m a very passionate person… I do lose interest in things rather quickly. Could it be that ADHD thing I was told I have??

I partially believe that my problem could be my lack of focus and space. I really don’t have a creative space. Each of the rooms in my home have a purpose (or general purpose) and none of them are really designed to facilitate any sort of creative outlet or artistic expression.

Do I need a desk? Would that help me? Or would adding a desk just help me hide more projects and more ideas to be forgotten about for years. Is the lack of a desk or art space just an excuse to be lazy?

I found an old torn up plastic grocery bag under my bed. I was curious and opened it. There were about 10 really ornately designed rusty old door fixtures. I have no fucking clue why I saved them. Was I planning to do something artsy with them? I dunno. There are a lot of old torn up plastic bags full of ideas I once had but have long since forgotten about.

I want to dream again.

I want to create again.

I want to be motivated. I bought a fucking week/month planner! I had hoped that maybe by somehow buying the giant thing that it would help me manage my time better so that I could MAKE time to do what I used to LOVE! I haven’t. It’s been two months, so maybe I’m just rushing things?

I haven’t felt “myself” in a long time. In all honestly I haven’t felt that spark since I moved out of Eugene’s place over two years ago.

I have thought long and hard about why that is and a few things come to mind, mostly shared interest in creating and functional space.

I just feel kinda lost right now, without real purpose. I don’t know what I am doing with myself anymore.

Woah!

Holy Moses it’s 2014, and you know what that means…?! It means I will be writing “2013” on everything for another 4 months because I always forget year changes like that. It’s my gift!

Had a swell NYE – awkward, stressful, silly, KISSY <3, dancy, smoky, flannely, and funny! Kissed my boo at midnight (and all throughout the night) and had a funky after party.

Snuggled in bed with the boyfriend, the cat & the dog. So comfortable.

Now I'm waiting for the gang to wake up because I want BRUNCH!!! Need. Needs me somes brunches!!

My New Years resolution:

Take dog on more walks

xoxoxo

Contemplations..

The internet… the world wide web… the one place you can be completely anonymous [unless someone tracks you down via ip address and what-not] and do/see/say whatever it is that your twisted little heart may desire.

Elton is doing this thing where he doesn’t realize that I am not trying to cuddle with him. I think he is so cute and I giggle as I write this but I really do want to pick him up and play “launch kitty” where he soars onto the floor from the bed… after I toss him. He is adorable and I love him yet I am terribly allergic, so if I don’t pay attention to where he is going [like near my face] I tend to end up with hives. Not breathing really isn’t fun. Him walking on my laptop isn’t fun either.

I tend to overreact. I don’t know if I have ever mentioned that before. I guess I am very sensitive, delicate and temperamental. It has always been a joke that if I were a dog I would be a poodle. Ill take that. Poodles are alright. They do stuff in the circus which has kind of been a dream of mine for a long while now.

 look at how classy and sassy that poodle is! Definitely diggin’ it!

I’d be a poodle. If Reed were a dog he’d be a lab for sure. Elton would be a German Shepard. I think Rocky would be something like… himself since he is a dog but if he were a CAT Rocky would have to be something liiiike a Savannah cat… big, wild, jump, loyal and loud!

So I totally overate tonight. It was epic and disgusting. I do it every so often. More often that I would care to admit actually but I am admitting it. I ate about 3-4 servings of waffle fries [exact quantity unknown] with MAYO and hot sauce… goodness I KNOW, I KNOW! DONT’ JUDGE ME! But you can judge me… I feel sick to my stomach just thinking about it. Anyways.. of course as soon as I finish stuffing my face we decided to go on a walk…?

Why did I go? Why did I do it? Between the horrible lung capacity from smoking [slowly cutting back, on my way to QUITTING] the obnoxiously full belly and the sore ass body from sleeping like a log I can honestly say that tonight I experienced the worst walk of my life. So far because I am sure I will have worse in the future, but this was the worst so far. Oh God, I was dry heaving and begging for mercy, begging for Reed to slow down, begging to sit on stoops belonging to strangers in our neighborhood, begging Reed to leave me, return home to grab the car and come get me… HA! How pathetic! It was a good 45 minute BRISK walk so I shouldn’t have been so close to death like I was. I blame it mostly on the fact that I gorged myself before moving. What a dumb idea. Why didn’t we wait? It’s not like we were on a time limit, or had a curfew or anything. Just in a rush to live!

So now I am in bed. With my sleepy time tea, loaded up on Melatonin, waiting for the computer to die so I can slink down further into bed and dream that I am laying on a beautiful white sandy beach near the ocean. With my  first deep breath in I will imagine the tide rolling up to my toes, with each breath out the tide will roll back out, with the next breath in the tide will roll further up my legs, then back out, further up my body and so on\, ebb and flow of the tide onto myself until I have fallen asleep or the tide has come so far up that the ocean has consumed me and I turn into a mermaid which is usually a sign that I am sleeping.

BYE