Monday, July 23, 2018

Lions and Tigers and Dreams, Oh My!

What is up with these dreams?  They are so vivid, and not entirely relaxing or pleasant.

Every night, I feel like my sleep is being disturbed because instead of sleeping I'm living in cities, administering tests, finding the ocean or long lost friends, working in cubicles, finding my way home.

And that was just last night.

Seriously though, since my sleep is no longer wine-soaked most night, the dreams have been so busy.

I've heard that everyone dreams, and it's just that some people can't remember their dreams.  I definitely had dreams when I drank.  Mostly, I had the same dream:  trying to escape my ex.  It took various forms.  But it was always about me needing to find the gumption and resources to go.

At least I'm not having those dreams anymore.

And feelings.  I've been having more of those, too. And not all feelings are fun.  First it was waves of anger (for no apparent reason, just "nudgy" as we say in my family).  I felt it like pulses radiating through my limbs.  I retreated to my room for space, and lay on my bed feeling this physical sensation.

I debated reading, or otherwise distracting myself.  But I had a hunch that I wasn't supposed to run away again.  So I lay there feeling the pulses.

I talked to my therapist about it.  She wondered if past trauma is seeking light and release.  She recommended a book with guided meditations.  I just arrived.  We'll see.

I just keep hoping that the door I'm walking through is going to lead me to where I want to go.

Friday, July 20, 2018

Sober-Curious Reading List

Books have always been my best friends and greatest teachers.  


This exploration is no exception.  Here are the books that have inspired and energized my journey so far. I've read a couple of others, but these are the ones that have left me with the most. Most of these links are Amazon affiliate links.

  • This Naked Mind by Annie Grace (I got the Kindle version with Audible and listened during my commute).  This is where it started for me.  I love Annie's viewpoint and goal:  "I can drink whenever I want, I just don't want to drink."  That's where I want to go.  Annie's research and anecdotes work on both your conscious and subconscious mind.  It may be working.
  • The Sober Diaries by Clare Pooley (Kindle version is only $4.99).  I laughed and cried as I read Clare's account of her first year sober.  I'm not the only one who keeps track of the wine bottle to make sure I get more?  Highly relatable, funny, and vulnerable.  This book helped me glimpse the Other Side. 
  • A Happier Hour by Rebecca Weller (Kindle).  There's a theme here.  As a middle-aged white mother, I needed to read stories of others like me.  Functional drinkers who decided to experiment with the sober life and decided to stay.  And then discovered wold success and true happiness on the other side.  This book is no exception. 
  • Mrs. D Is Going Without: A Memoir by Lotta Dan (Kindle) Ditto.  I'm actually as of writing this post currently wrapping up this book.  What I'm loving is Mrs. D.'s recounting of finding her feelings again.  Somehow the Book Goddess always delivers books to my hands that have the lesson I need right now.  And finding and feeling my feelings is just where I am. I already bought her follow up Mrs. D. Is Going Within because I'm right there with her.
I live for book recommendations:

 Please tell me what you're reading in the comments!



21 days...and not counting?

Today marks 21 days since I last had a drink. Three weeks!  Long, not long.

I've not yet made any sort of long-term commitment.  That's not how I roll.  Doing so would only tempt my inner rebel to raise her fist and shout "NO ONE CAN TELL ME WHAT TO DO (even me)!"

So I'm just experimenting.  I'm counting because it's pleasing to see the days add up. And let's face it, I certainly hope this experiment yields the results I've read about in so much quit lit: pink clouds, feeling feelings, glowing skin & hair, boundless energy, sheer joy, and .... weight loss. (Of course. Humbug.)

I have no desire to drink at present.  I know where that leads.  I've been doing it for more than two decades.  The amount has varied from heavy, extended bingeing to just a glass or two of wine a few nights a week.  But it's always been there.

When I started to set myself right about a year and a half ago, I began with food.  Or, rather my relationship with food and my body. 

And surprise, surprise, all roads lead to the same place.  The shadowed depths of my soul.  Food, fat, finances, family, fun (aka alcohol).  Stumbling along the path to self-improvement and inner happiness I was willing to turn all to stones I came to. Except wine.

When I first started seeing my therapist to figure out why I was so fucking angry all the time I used to joke about my wine habit. Surely, a glass or three (or five) was a totally acceptable way to cope with the relentless demands of parenting three small children.  No, she replied, one perhaps, but definitely not three (five).  Harrumph.  Nevermind.

But a year later, after a lot of work turning all the other stones, I'm realizing that this pebble (boulder) needs to be turned.

It started when I noticed that angry-mommy turned on after ONE glass of wine.  Just one.  No buzz, no warm, tingly feeling, but rather an immediate drain of energy and verve, exhaustion setting in.  Patience evaporated, and with it kindness.

The noticing was the key.  Once I noticed, it was easier to experiment with going without. 

And so this most recent experiment began.  It was relatively easy to lighten up.  Over the past few months I've tapered to a glass or two on a couple of weeknights.  Unfortunately, that upset the balance, and the weekend binges became slightly more effective. (Two blackouts in a month. Shame.)

So when This Naked Mind popped up into my Facebook feed (was it Goddess or algorithm?) I bought and read.

And here we are.

Where?  Well, I'm still not sure.  But stick around.  I'm going to find out.

Thursday, July 19, 2018

A Bad Beginning


Tonight marks 20 days without alcohol.  It’s been pretty easy. So far.

Somehow immersing myself in the sobersphere both seems to help, while at the same time makes me hyper-focused on something that I really would prefer not to focus on.  Not drinking can be No Big Deal.  Unless I obsess over it, as I tend to do with any New Thing that I’m exploring.  And here I am.

I want to tell my story.  I’ll start at the beginning.

I have been using substances to alter my consciousness since I was a teenager. Haven't we all? Started smoking cigarettes at age 12- wanted to look older, the boys I liked smoked, so I forced myself until I didn’t hate it.

I began drinking around middle school.  Just the occasional binge drinking at parties. Or every weekend.  Drinking to get drunk.  Made many bad choices, hook ups, mistakes.  But survived. That’s how we have “fun,” right? 

College.  Enter daily weed smoking and many other recreational drugs. Drinking Wednesday- Saturday.  It was the 90s.  There were raves, parties that lasted days.  I never sought the pills, coke, or shrooms, but took them when they were handed to me.  I didn’t want to be left out.  So many times I had to force the pills down my throat.  My body was screaming at me not to, but I did it anyway.  It wasn’t until almost a decade later that I finally listened to my body and said NEVER AGAIN to the pills and coke.  I never wanted to do it (really), but I didn’t want to be left out even more.  And once I did it, I didn’t ever want to come down.  Smoked packs of cigarettes.  Cracked my molars.

Cigarettes began to disgust me toward the end of college.  I tapered off until I couldn't stand them anymore.  Then, used the scene change of returning home for summer as a break.  Quit.  Had a few late-night-bar-drags, but never went back. Never will.

I smoked weed daily in college.  I had a dealer.  I sought and bought my own.  I craved the release of reality and responsibility.  I remember distinctly wondering why anyone would do anything if they weren’t stoned.  How would anything be any fun?  Wake and bake.  Ready and roll.

My weed habit picked up even more after college.  My emotionally abusive relationship was hard to cope with, so I smoked to get through. (Passive aggression or abusive word, a few hits and I could move on, forget the pain.)  There was always wine and beer, too.  But that wasn’t “bad” - that was normal.  I spent my whole 20s in stoned or in bars. (I also got a masters, so my use was functional, and I didn’t think it was a problem, just a bad habit.)

Slowly, I walked out of my problems.  My hour commute-by-foot gave me the space to imagine a better life.  Once I could conceive of it, it was ready to be.  I left my abusive partner.  I decided I did NOT want to do pills or coke anymore.  I decided I didn’t have to, I could opt out and be left out, and it would be ok.  So I did. I smoked a lot less weed.  I just didn’t care for it so much.  It was from a daily crutch to an occasional recreation activity.

And so I entered my 30s as a drinker.  My first year in my new job was hard.  And I came home each day and drank at least 1-2 bottles of wine each night.  I’d pass out on the couch each night.  At some point I realized what was happening and let up a bit.

I married (a wonderful human).  We bought a house.  We had a kid.  Then another.  I drank to deal with the relentlessness of parenting, the frustration, the boredom, the lack of sleep, to claim Me Time.  Then we had another kid.  And I kept drinking.

It was the only thing for me.  I worked a full time job (outside the house) and then parented three small humans.  It was my reward. My release.  My time to turn off.  It was the balm that soothed my soul for all the ripping and tearing demands of life.

I was pissed.  (Both angry and drunk.)  Alcohol was what I turned to to soothe my savage soul.  To cover my guilt.  To swallow my frustration.  And it didn’t make me a better parent.  But it got me through.

Then, about a year and a half ago, I began to explore myself, and some really interesting things have been revealed.  (To be continued…)


Lions and Tigers and Dreams, Oh My!

What is up with these dreams?  They are so vivid, and not entirely relaxing or pleasant. Every night, I feel like my sleep is being distur...