Facing Challenges Head On Without Regrets

It's been another good week overall. Had a few challenges, but honestly did not want to drink.

My first was while making dinner one night. We decided to have brats. I've always prepared brats simmered in beer. Old habit was to use a good beer, pour a half a bottle over brats and drink the other half. My husband needed to go pick up the kids and I was left to prepare dinner by myself. I grabbed one of his beers left over from the weekend and opened it. Not gonna lie, I love opening a bottle and hearing the escape of air. Doesn't matter if it's beer or soda. I poured half over the brats and sat the beer down. Then I picked it back up. No, I wasn't really tempted to drink it, I just looked at it and thought how odd it was that I really didn't have the temptation to take a drink. Being that it was Bus Light helped. I was, however, uncomfortable leaving it half full. Thought for a moment and then cranked the heat and poured it all in. No need to throw it away when it can be used.

When the family got home we ate dinner. I was waiting for someone to ask me. I was surprised hubby didn't. Later, when I asked him if he was worried I may drink, he told me he never was concerned. He knew I wouldn't. I decided to embrace the fact he trusted me.

Friday, I decided to go to a ladies night. Free food and wine tastings. Let me tell you, I don't think there's anything that can get ladies more aggressive then food, wine and shopping! I went with a friend who knew I wasn't drinking. She was considerate enough that she wasn't going to drink, but I insisted I was okay. I was quite fortunate, the water and punch line was a lot shorter then the wine line! My friend and I had a good laugh at some of the ladies that spent their entire time getting back in line for more. The lady pouring even told them to try a different wine next time, it was a wine tasting after all. At one time, I probably would have been one of those ladies. Activities like these normally amped up my anxiety, the crowds and the cattiness. I thought I handled it quite well. Found a tasty punch and could drive home.

Last night was our neighborhood party. I had worried about if I was going to want to participate since the invite arrived. I was so worried everyone would be asking why I wasn't drinking. I was concerned it would bother me not being able to join in and that I would feel left out.

Since my husband was planning on not drinking I was a little more relaxed about the whole thing. I was ready to say I had a migraine if things got too much. I never felt the need. The first stop was more about the appetizers and games, then  the drinks. Next up almost felt like a frat party trying to get started. Irish car bombs and shots. Had fun laughing at the others and actually helped pour the shots. Honestly, I was thankful I wasn't taking part. The idea of beer, whiskey and vodka before being halfway done with the night…well I would have been sick for sure. Dinner was served at the next house and the basketball games were on, so I didn't feel the focus was on me at all. Last stop boozy desserts. I didn't have any. Honestly, this stop was the hardest for me, more so because I was ready to go home. No one seemed smashed, but there were a few who seemed on their way. I just wanted to get home to see the last of basketball and sleep!

Did I have any regrets? Not at all. I was already hurting Sunday from my arthritis. Lord knows it would have been worse had I indulged in the drinking. I felt slightly refreshed after waking up early and knew a hangover wasn't gonna be an excuse for laying on the couch. 

Looking back the only part that made me nervous was trusting that my name didn't come up in conversation afterwards or before I arrived at the party. I really didn't want my non drinking be a topic of conversation. It bothered me briefly, but then I decided that if they needed to talk, let them talk. I'm happy with where I am and where I'm going.

I Don't Drink

I'm beginning to like the way I'm feeling. Another week and I'm beginning to feel stronger mentally and physically. I'm trying to exercise more and attempting to eat better. One bad afternoon versus a few days feels like a great accomplishment. This past week I was able to share more with family.

I have decided to refer to myself as not drinking, rather than I can't drink. Saying I can't drink sounds like, at the moment I can't drink, but could lead others, including myself to believe one day, whether it's tomorrow or next year, I can.

I find saying that I don't drink is empowering. I've never said I don't drink. Well, when I was pregnant. I think it sounds like I am strong and want to be in control at all times. I'm choosing not to drink. I don't need alcohol to feel comfortable around others or to deal with my anxiety and depression. I've never in my life believed that, but I'm starting to believe it more and more. I am strong. I'm starting to feel comfortable in my own skin. Granted I haven't put myself in too many situations, but I'm also finding other things I enjoy doing.

Pitty Party or Party Planning

This blog thing is so new to me! I had started this new post writing about being pissed and my reasoning. After writing a bit, I decided I needed to go exercise to get out of my funk. Fortunately, I was able to do just that, until I came home to finish this blog post.  Yup funny thing, sometimes you need to actually hit save to keep your work. 

So why was I pissed? Well, I was throwing a bit of a pitty party for myself. No worries, I didn't invite anyone else to join me. I was pissed that others are able to  enjoy a glass of wine or pint of beer and not have a problem. I was pissed that some people are able to decide not to drink and not feel like everyone sees a flashing light above them informing everyone in the room that they can't have an alcoholic drink. I was pissed that I may never get to enjoy a bottle of wine with a friend at sunset or participate in a beer festival. 

Thankfully, I wasn't able to stay at my private party for long. I had plans to walk so I got my ass to the track. As I walked with my friend, I started forgetting that I wasn't going to have that pint of beer. I started to not care, for today. Instead I looked forward to trying my tonic water and juice when I got home. 

What was really cool as I walked, was being reminded that when I used to walk every day with this friend (way back when), I wasn't drinking much at all. Those lattes truly were just that, no Baileys added:) My focus was on exercise and trying to eat healthier. 

Maybe doing activities from my past aren't all bad.  Here's to a new type of party.  Three days of exercise and many more in my future.

65!!

65 days completed without a drink! I want to shout it out to the world!  I am doing this! I am getting healthy; mentally, physically, emotionally and spiritually! 

This journey sure as hell isn't a nice calm sail down the river. It's been a crazy roller coaster, but it's finally feeling a little more like the Mine Train than the Screaming Eagle! I'm learning to just ride the hills! 

When I started all this, I prayed just to make it through an afternoon, an evening, a day. Mentally and emotionally, I was a mess. I didn't know myself. I was scared out of my mind. I didn't want a drink at those times. I just wanted to run from my past.  Okay, I did want to drink sometimes after work or dinner. All of this was so hard to deal with and, honestly, I had no idea how to do it sober. 

Going to counseling and dealing with my problems sober; before, during and after counseling, is about as hard as it would be for me to run a marathon with one leg!  I'm feeling everything that I've avoided for 20 years, but I'm doing it with a counselor and incredible support team. I have had to grieve and relive all the pain, sober. 

I'm getting to know myself again. I'm beginning to like me. I'm proving to myself that I am fucking strong!  I am doing it all sober and I am surviving. I have grown more in the last 60 days, then I have in years! It is exhausting and draining, but I am doing it! 

Spiritually, I still question a lot. I have begun reading bible verses and finding support through God. How great is our God that he can forgive me for my sins, my mistakes and not judge me? I have a hard time wrapping my head around that, but if anyone can teach me about forgiveness and not judging, it's God. Someday, maybe I'll share how God fought to have a relationship with me the last few months. 

Physicall healthy? Nice weather and an extra hour of light in the evening, I hope I will have the desire to fight past my arthritis pain and exercise. When I'm exercising, emotionally I have always been better. I hope I can get in the mindset to make more positive choices in what I eat, too. It would be awesome if that bathroom scale starts showing smaller numbers!

Positive thoughts on the worst day of springing forward. Here's to sleeping better tonight then last night, and to a good week for us all. 

Hi My Name is....

42 years old and I am meeting my adult self for the first time! Emotions are huge! Will I like myself? Will others like me? Will I fit in with other adults? Will I be that junior high kid in an adult body staying home on a Friday night because nobody wants to hang with me? This my friends is what it feels like when I am sober. 

In the last 8 years, most of our social life has been centered around hanging with groups of people who drank. Going to bars to listen to music,to play pool or darts, drinking craft beer, driveway parties, pool parties, dinner parties, tailgating, etc. I never really paid much attention to the few who didn't drink, besides that they always seemed to be in a pissy mood and not socializong with everyone. What did they do? What did they drink? I didn't want to be like them! 

How am I going to be sober and fit in? All these friends have known me as a drinking friend. They may not like me as a sober friend? It's beyond an emotional time for me. 

Moving Forward

One thing I was never prepared for were the emotions and feelings that came with sobriety. It was so raw right from the first day of 100% sobriety. I hated it! I never, ever remember feeling so much and I just wanted to run away. My anxiety was so bad, I had trouble concentrating, sleeping, relaxing. 

I knew I needed to do this to get better, but had no idea if I had it in me. I needed my family and closest friends to know going to counseling was a positive step not a weakness. I needed to believe it was! I needed to share with them to keep me accountable and for support. Hell, I got here by not sharing and opening myself up. I needed to open up my deepest wounds and feel everything. I needed to do this without alcohol numbing me. Now that was the scariest of all! 

So much of my pain was pain I had never allowed myself to feel. I knew it was there, deep and buried, where I thought I could keep it. Every February it would try hard to come out, this last year, more then ever. That's another reason I drank more. Trying to bury it deeper! Stop bugging me! That's what I thought at least, until the last month or two before I quit drinking. I tried to talk about it, when drunk mostly. I knew I needed to heal, I just didn't want to feel it. 

When I drank to deal with my pain, I didn't feel it the same as in sobriety. I could wake up the next day and act like all was good. The more I tried, though, the harder and harder it got to act. I always had trouble with depression in the winter months, but it was finally too much.

Choosing sobriety, everything I had been burying for the last 20 years came front and center. Oh my, oh my, this sucked! The pain, I didn't know if I could truly do this. I couldn't go a day without crying, without questioning if I was strong enough. A few things that I have realized. One, sharing when I am drunk isn't fair to myself, but especially those who care about me. It is down right scary for them to hear some of my thoughts. Here's the incredible thing though. When I have the right friends and family willing to stand by me, if I allow God in my life, as clueless and uncomfortable as it may feel, and if I commit to the process, I can do this. 

 

Going to counseling twice a week doesn't allow much room to hide and avoid either. It's not that I wanted to, but I don't think in all my years in and out of counseling I ever devoted 100% of me. It hasn't been easy, that's for damn sure. I had times I felt my two counselors were talking behind my back (I know now they hadn't even spoken). Once I became committed to the process, the timing was right, and I began to feel I was moving forward, not stuck in the quicksand.  

First Steps

The few days that followed were nothing short of difficult. My husband drove up to Chicago that afternoon with my youngest daughter, to get me and talk with my friend. They had already planned that I would not drive. There was fear that I would hurt myself or just keep driving. Maybe it was justified. I was to be a passenger for the ride home. Embarrassment and shame overtook me. Looking back, it almost seems like the whole 24 hours was an out of body experience. My anxiety was out of this world. I was ashamed to be sharing with my family and, especially my girls. I was admitting that I was beyond helping myself. I felt weak. Little did I realize I was showing how strong I could be. 

My family was and is AMAZING. My husband and girls said they were there for me and that we would get through all of this together. I shared some of my history with them and that I had been going to counseling for depression. 

That Sunday, after waking up in my own bed, I loaded up all of the alcohol in the house and took it to a friend's house. No need for it to be there later, when I may feel like I was okay. Any extra temptations to go backwards weren't needed in this house now. I needed to look into counseling for the alcohol before I started believing I could do it on my own. 

The counselor I had been going to is really good for my PTSD, depression and anxiety but I knew she wasn't certified in substance abuse of any type. If I was going to prove that I can do this to myself, family and friends, I needed to do it right and get the right kind of help. I was so scared. What will they tell me?  I'm beyond out patient help? Will I find out that I'm too far gone to be helped? Will my work and neighbors find out I have all these issues?  Thinking of the future definitely kept the anxiety going. 

I scheduled an alcohol consultation and evaluation after a ton of issues getting through to someone. Anxiety once again skyrocketed when it was going to be almost two weeks from when I stopped drinking before they could get me in. I was getting angry. Everyone I spoke with asked if I had gotten in legal trouble and had insurance. It was as if I said yes to legal issues, they would see me right away. Come on I was a responsible drunk!! 😉

I don't know what was worse, my desire to drink or my anxiety about my life. The waiting game to find out what the next step was going to be, made me an emotional mess. I was trying to read bible verses and truly pray. How scary that was. Finally, after almost two weeks without drinking, I had my three hour evaluation. Again, I think they asked three times, three different ways, if I had gotten in legal problems or endangered my family. I felt like they were telling me I wasn't too bad. Not a bad thing to feel, but then again, I needed to know what to do next and not be given an easy out. 

After almost three hours I discovered one thing for sure. Some people can type really, really fast! Okay, I also discovered that maybe it would be good to talk to someone trained in substance abuse who also knows how to deal with my past. So began the two a weeks counseling. One for alcohol and then my other for PTSD, depression and anxiety. 

Was I ready for this emotional roller coaster I was about to jump on???  It didn't matter. If I was going to improve it was time to do this and be 100% honest with everyone especially myself.  I wasn't always confident, trust me, but I had to do this!

The Morning After

Back to the Chicago trip. Never in my life have I been so terrified to face my family and give in to my demons. Here I was a 42 year old mother and wife who truly was about to ruin her family. My friend told me again we needed to come up with a plan.  She got ready as I sat, ready to run (unable to since I still didn't know where my keys were). My friend could not afford to stay with me. She had a family she needed to get back to. I was ruining her day, she will never want to see me again, her husband would never let her visit me again. He's gonna think I'm fucked up when he hears what went down. Yeah, that's all going through my crazy head.

I came to the realization I needed to call my husband. When he answers I quickly  tell him that I think I have a problem. He asks what I mean and I say it for the first time sober. I think I may have a drinking problem. That's it! Oh shit! It's over! I've said it out loud. He's gonna be pissed!  He's gonna agree! He's gonna say he knew this was all gonna happen on this trip! My life is forever changed with this man! 

Did Ientiom I have a husband I've never felt I deserved. My amazing husband calmly said he loved me and asked what he needed to do. I didn't deserve this. I just wanted to crumble. I did just that. I don't remember how the plan came to be. I believe my husband and friend talked and worked it out that he would come get me. Oh shit! I was really digging a hole now!!! I was soooo anxious and scared now! This was all too real! 

My nervous pacing really began. The hotel room we had was just a small suite. Nothing big, room for a sofa and a bed and a sink. Not a lot of room to pace! My friend sat on the sofa. I didn't know what she was doing, writing, praying, cursing me? She turned on her Christian music. Stuff I don't really know (remember I don't know much about anything religious).

Well, as I was pacing I hear the words in the song that's playing, eagles wings and rising. I don't recall hearing many other words at the time. Never in my life have I ever, ever felt such an urge to surrender.  I felt as if God was taking a hold of me and begging for me to give in and allow him to care for me. I was struggling to stay on my feet. I had an urge to kneel. I was truly fighting my legs from buckling. I fell on the bed in a ball and cried. I honestly can not explain it. Since then, I have been trying to accept that God really wants a relationship with me. 

To this day, and the rest of my life, I will probably experience chills from that experience.

I will always believe that God sent this friend of mine to be the one to help save me from destroying my life. I had friends and family, some who verbally spoke up and tried to help me, some who were a little more passive. They all saw the problems, I know they did. I know I made it easy to convince them I was making an effort, too. God sent this friend, because she had the strength, through God, to deal with however I reacted. I was not kind, in reactions, physically and with words. She hadn't been around me in years when I was drunk so she had fresh eyes. I felt a ton of guilt for all I did. I know she acted with guidance from God and love. Most if all I know she has no regrets. I, am filled with gratitude. Gratitude for everyone who has been there for me, before and after this intervention. Extremely grateful for my husband and that weekend and God's plan. I'm working on the guilt 😉

A Little History

A little history of my last year and reasons for where I am. Why would someone who has a wonderful husband, two beautiful daughters, involved parents, a great group of friends and a secure job have so much depression and sadness?  

Honestly, I have dealt with depression most of my adult life. I was always a very sensitive kid. When I was happy, I was extremely happy, but when I was sad I could stay there for hours, sometimes days. As I got older and relationships began developing, I developed feelings quickly. The only problem,I kept it all inside, like I wanted to protect myself. In college, I got better, but started trusting people too quickly. Unfortunately, trusting quickly can backfire. Some friends that I thought would be huge supporters through crisis ran. Others said hurtful words to me. I was left alone.  I went back to my old ways of keeping things inside. I always questioned friendships after that. This would play a role in much of my life 20 years later. 

In the last year, my role as a mom was changing and I didn't like it. I wasn't needed in the same ways. I had babysat a little guy a few days a week that helped fill that void, but then that job ended. I had a hysterectomy that I needed and wanted, but brought the reality that we were done having kids. I lost three family members within a year, two of them being my grandmothers. I didn't allow myself to grieve. I drifted from a few friends that really meant something to me. I tried to be strong, but felt the opposite. I could feel myself slipping into a slump. 

I dealt with it all by drinking a little more. I didn't feel it was too bad most of the time.  I saved it for the weekends, but if I was invited to join in, rarely did I turn it down. As time went on, I noticed when I drank, I was beginning to drink until drunk. I began having moments where I would get extremely emotional. My anxiety was getting worse. I would shake my leg, rub my hands, scratch and pick my nails. I couldn't sit still and I knew it made people around me uncomfortable at times. I never related it to drinking and depression issues. I thought all my friends were judging me and I began giving them reasons to run like hell. 

 

Last winter, after learning more about someone from my past, my emotions began really getting the best of me. I talked more about counseling, but wasn't biting the bullet. My history with counselors pretty much sucked and I didn't have much faith in finding anyone that could help me. I questioned if I could even trust a counselor not to judge me. 

After a few trips this summer, visiting with friends and getting really drunk, I realized I had to go to counseling or I really was going to lose friends and possibly my family. After sharing with my husband that my baggage just wouldn't go away, it was time to "unpack." (I have an amazing husband that I don't think I have ever allowed myself to believe I deserve). 

I began going to counseling in August and I felt counseling was good for me. She was easy to talk to, easy to make appointments to be seen. I wasn't going to struggle to get in and, well, it didn't seem like she was prying too much. This was going to be a breeze. Ha, well, before long she wanted to see me weekly. We began digging to the heart of what my issues were. Damn, I had a lot of baggage, old baggage. Was I really wanting to do this? Was it worth unpacking stuff that hurt so badly? I got scared and began drinking after each session. That's healthy right??? I hated feeling the pain so why not numb myself. This was becoming my cycle.

And So It Begins

Pretty much after coming to an intervention/ awakening I realized that I had been attempting to 100% numb myself for the last year or two, the last six months especially! Demons from my past were so fresh in my head when I was sober and the only way I saw was to drink to numb or run to avoid. Not recommended when one is on depression/anxiety meds already and add arthritis medicine to the mix, my body began being affected due to my neglect. I was in a huge rut. I knew when sober I needed to do something, but was scared shitless that I wouldn't be able to do the work. 

I started counseling in August, thinking all would be solved. I learned, early on, counseling does nothing if you leave a session and go drink the pain away afterwards. A big waste of time and $$!

My autumn went on like this, then in November, I had a childhood friend/ family member begin to see through my walls. She began praying for me and telling me she would be a support for along with sending bible verses and prayers via text. 

I was convinced I was a horrible person, wife, mother, daughter and friend. She continued telling me if I embraced God, and truly spoke to him that I would discover he loves me and sees none of that. She also tried her darnedest to convince me I was a wonderful friend, mother, wife, etc.  (She definitely would be able to describe all that better).

In short, I got through the holidays, staying extremely busy with a house full for Thanksgiving, and then Christmas.  I could feel the depression getting more and more severe. I felt lost and didn't know how to ask for help. I began drinking more, by myself. 

My friend and I had a trip planned to meet in Chicago at the New Year. Shop, eat and drink. Reconnect! The first time we were gonna be without our families, and just ourselves since we traveled together two weeks after I had met my husband back in 1993! I couldn't wait!  I was excited to be together and share! We had been through so much together through our lives. She had been my “older sister” and my second family since I was 14! I wanted to share all that was going on in our lives. Who knew she would save me from myself? 

We arrived on a Friday around lunch and went straight to Portillos. I was sooo ready to have my Chicago hot dog and a big fishbowl of  beer to calm the anxiety that was OUT OF CONTROL during the 4 hour drive. (Through the last year, my anxiety had become quite severe. I was constantly antsy and uncomfortable in my own skin).  Little did I know the Portillos we chose was one of the few that didn't serve alcohol. That was fine. 

After eating, we went over to Binny's for our alcohol. Time to stock up on all the craft beer I wanted to bring home, and some for the hotel, too. Next stop, a beer place with lots and lots of craft beer. My favorite kind of place! We sat down and so began the flow of alcohol. Man that "not your dads root beer" was quite tasty, although I chose a few IPAs for myself! I was beginning to relax a little, feeling like it was like old times. My friend and I were together and she wasn't judging me. We were really having a good time, but needed to get back to the hotel before we would need a cab!

Back to the hotel to get in comfy clothes, order pizza, munch on awesome hummus and even more conversation. What a perfect night, right? Well, the first few hours were for sure. (Preface, my friend was raised Catholic, but left the Catholic Church as a young adult. She is now a pastor in a nondenominational church. She had had here on demons and lessons in learning forgiveness). 

As we visited that night, we had some wonderful conversations about the bible and the differences among religions. We spoke how forgiveness works in God's eyes. I was the one listening. I've never felt like I knew much about religion, even my own. It was nice to just be talking and not feel like I was being judged for my lack of religion knowledge or anything else for that matter. 

As the evening went on, I was really  starting to feel the effects of my craft beers and my friend, being the blunt friend she has always been, began asking more detailed questions about me. Oh shit!  She's gonna judge me! It wasn't gonna be easy to lie to someone who has known me more than half my life. I knew I wasn't going to be able to hide for long. My anxiety was getting crazy out of control. Rubbing my hands, rocking, drinking more. I was scared what was gonna happen? Do I share with her all my baggage? She knew most of it, in all reality. She'd been there through so much from years past, but this was too much. This was supposed to be a FUN girls weekend, not Jules has a shitload of baggage weekend! I remember getting mad and scared. I honestly don't remember all the conversation (remember that craft beer I was drinking for a few hours now)? 

Then my friend flat out asked me if I was an alcoholic. I couldn't answer. I was upset, scared, pissed. Really do we have to ruin a good time? You know, I'm hiding right?  I remember crying hysterically, hating myself more than anything. I vaguely remember getting pissed, throwing out pissy comments asking her to come up with bible verses for my behavior. Who knows when exactly, but she called a helpline. She prayed for me, she held me and she saved me from myself.

Sounds exaggerated? Not at all. I vaguely remember not wanting to answer, crying and saying I wasn't worthy of love. So much was my fault. How could God love me with all my issues? How could God not judge me when everyone else surely was? My friend was a rock. She kept throwing out support, her own words and bible verses.

I remember when she called the helpline, hearing her talking to the staff.  I got frantic someone was gonna come take me. I started throwing all my clothes and belongings together. I was gonna get the hell out of there. I wanted my keys to go hide in my car. I hadn't thought about driving I just needed to escape this situation! Run like hell! I wasn't gonna sit in a hotel and wait to be hauled off to a mental institute or detox. I was so upset I wanted my keys, but I couldn't find them. Unbeknownst to me, some time earlier in the night, my friend had taken them and hid them. 

After she got off the phone she insisted I was okay and no one was coming for me. No way!  I didn't believe her and really began panicking. I was out of control, my head racing my anxiety skyrocketing! No what? I've screwed everything up. How was I gonna explain to my family why I won't be home? I should have given in right then, but no I just continued drinking and crying. I don't remember how the night ended. Just an empty beer glass next to me. 

The following morning, or a few hours later, I woke up. I just wanted to sob. I got up and just sat on the couch wandering what I was going to do. Seriously, I was scared shitless. A very foggy head, sick to my stomach over what happened, scared because I couldn't remember everything and how things were left. How were things left? I couldn't remember the details but I knew things weren't good. 

The concern on my friend's face when she got up said it all. Fuck! I couldn't even look at her. I was pissed at myself and hurt but so, so, so scared and upset at what I just put my friend through. We didn't really talk at first. I felt horrible and was just praying she would be pissed and leave me to fend for myself. Another success for Jules, pushing a dear friend away. Why???

That's not how it went down, thank God. Instead my friend calmly told me she thought I had a problem with alcohol and depression and that I needed help. She said she was not leaving until we figured out the next step, together. Everything was still so foggy. I just wanted to curl up in a ball and cry!! I ruined the weekend. Things will never be the same between us or with my family. I could die. I could lose my job. Where do I start? I can't keep this secret anymore.