Saturday

Now I remember what Saturday's were made for: messes.

I had forgotten how a sober Saturday, when I was neither drinking nor recovering from it, could quickly become a morass of sorted papers and paint cans, brooms, vacuums and dusters. 

This is what today looks like for me. Isn't this a mess? In a good way? I had been thinking about painting my fireplace wall black and my walls white. I had a spray can of black paint handy, so why not? Well, fumes for one. This place needs help, and sober CeCe is just the person to fix it. And what's with all of this beige. I am most definitely not a beige person. More color and contrast please.

The 4-day gorilla

Stepping forwardYes indeed. That sucker is off my back and I'm 5 days sober. I had doubts that I would ever reach this point again. Over and over, I would hit the 4 day mark and the pull back towards drinking was so strong I seemed unable to push past it. Here I am, though, and so relieved and thankful to be here.

At about 9 pm last night I left a message for Amy to let her know that I thought I was going to make it to day 5. Then I dreamt that after I made the call I went out and drank. I slept really well through the night, but in most of my dreams I was drinking.

 Pull back, push forward. 

Write through it

Just write it out. You're at the end of day 3 and this is the tough part. It's 7:15, I worked all day and felt less spacey, but still kind of light headed. I've had dinner, and don't have to be at work until 2 tomorrow. I just have to get through today. Remember that if I drink I will get an hour of feeling good and 24 hours of feeling misery. You can do this, just get through another hour. Let it go. Acknowledge the need, and let it go.

Forgetting

I wake up in the morning with the solid intention of remaining alcohol free for that day. I write about my commitment, pray for it, read about the wisdom of remaining sober.

Ten hours later I'm draining the first bottle of wine, and straining for a second. What happens to that best of intentions? Why and how do I forget so easily about the downside of drinking. I reach the summit, that ever-so-brief moment of belonging, only to slide down even further into feelings of separation.  And I do it over and over and over.

Yesterday at the meeting, a woman described the feeling she got with the first sip of alcohol--the first sip that warmed her all the way down her body to her toes. That is exactly the feeling that I get with the first sip of the first drink. It is so seductive. When she mentioned this feeling to a non-alcoholic, he didn't know what she was talking about. But everyone in the room nodded their heads. We certaining got it.

For that brief encounter, I waste hours of time and buckets of emotions. For that brief moment of feeling a part of, I waste the following 24 hours falling apart.

As I write now, it's 10:45 am. I didn't drink last night, and have since felt moments of real clarity. And they scare me. In clarity I realize that I'm running out of money and that I must be absolutely honest about where I stand. When clear I see my life as it is, not as I wish it to be. And it scares me. It scares me so much that I want to escape and drink.

I need to reach deep inside. Strength and bravery are part of my being. Right now I feel that I am two people, that I lead a double life. The only way to heal my damaged side is to remember what it feels like after I've reached the summit and have begun the descent again. I am so afraid. Please remember.

Another way

I went to an AA meeting for the first time in quite a while today at noon. At times those meetings really get to me. But the stories that alchoholics tell, the basic story of drinking and trying to get sober, is pretty universal. Today there were several birthdays, and that's always a joyous occasion. How can I not be moved by people who, like me, could not stop and felt hopeless, yet turned their lives around. No one professed that life was now perfect; far from it. But every person did say that without the compulsion to drink and giving in to it, that life was so much better in every way.

That's what I need to hold onto. The fact that this is not an easy road by any means, but that a drinking life makes a normal life impossible. I'm honestly looking forward to normalcy; to getting through the day without the compulsion to drink, to not spend every waking moment thinking about it. What a release, and relief, it will be.