Monday, December 21, 2009

Crazy thinking

It's amazing the insights you can achieve when sober for a period of time. And speaking of time, it's been a while since I posted here. No, I wasn't out on a drunk. I've been hanging onto sobriety, sometimes by my fingernails, for 4 & something months. Funny, the more time goes by, the less it means to me. I don't know if that is a good or bad thing. Am I "Living in the moment" or am I just unappreciative of the gift of sobriety I've recieved?

But to the topic of tonight, which *gasp* isn't about drinking. Not directly anyway. It's about another piece of my crazy. Many times at meetings I've said my alchoholism isn't my problem, it's just a symptom of my greater problem. Well, I've discovered another symptom...

My whole life I've been thin. I never really did anything as a teen to contribute to that. I always got asked by people at school after the "eating disorder" section of health class if I was anorexic or bulemic, but I wasn't. What I was, was a damn picky vegetarian with a super fast metabolism. But I grew out of all three of those. By the time I was 22 and living in Europe I was eating not only all kinds of meat but all kinds of wierd foods in general. I made it my motto to try anything at least once. I ate snails and veal and liver and alligator and well, lots of foods. But I still had that fast metabolism so I stayed skinny.

Now for most women, the next thing I would say is "then I got pregnant." Actually, then I did get pregnant, twice, but I always lost weight fast afterwards. The combination of extended breastfeeding, living in Europe with no car and having to walk several miles each day pushing two kids in a stroller just to get groceries, and being so damn broke that I had to scrape change together to buy bread and milk for the kids and therefore could not afford to feed myself kept me thin. In fact I lost weight, got down to about 95 lbs. I know, ew. But the crazy part of me kinda liked it. "Look at me, I sacrifice so much for my kids I don't even eat!" Yep, crazy.

All that changed when we moved to the US. Junk food abounded. I drove everywhere, even the 10 minute walk to the grocery store. I sat on my ass all day at work. And over the next 4 years I put on 35 pounds.

Some of you readers (hah, I made a joke, what readers?!) are probably thinking, "Fuck off bitch, 130lbs is not fat!". You're right, but to me it is. I am rolly and polly. My thighs, stomach and ass look just like... MY MOM'S. Ew all over again.

Now that is actually all background to the real story of my crazy thinking of today. See, I went to the doctor today (sinus infection) and the scale I hate, the one that always adds at least two pounds more every time I go there presented me with a beautiful 122! Wow, 8 lbs lost since the summer! My head was full of glee. I immediately thought, "Just 7 more pounds and I'll be at my goal weight of 115. If I stop eating for a while I could get there!". Wait, I'm going to go back and bold the key part of that sentance... Yes, I thought, "If I stop eating." Not, "If I eat healthier" or "If I go on a diet" or "If I start exercising". See CRAZY.

Backtracking a bit... when I first stopped drinking I also stopped eating for a while. In fact I've had many periods of not eating in my life, usually linked to depression, where I just had no appetite. This time was a conscious decision. I felt that if I couldn't drink, I wouldn't eat. I made a game of seeing how long I could go until eating something. It's normal of me not to eat breakfast and have my first meal somewhere between 12 & 2, but during those few weeks of early sobriety I was pushing it until 5pm or later for that first, and only, meal. That period was followed by one where I was eating, and most of it was crap junk food, but I also had (and still have) a lovely intestinal problem which you really don't want TMI about. Let's just say it's kept my caloric intake low. Add to that new anti-depressants which make me feel a little like I'm on coke and supress my appitite and ta-da, 8 lbs lost!

So back to today, I'm realizing that even though I know not eating is not healthy behavior, I really want to not eat. I want to lose oodles of weight. Why stop at 115? 110 sounds good. I have this strange feeling that the less I weigh, the more in control I'll be. Wait, that sounds familiar... flashback to health class: eating disorders are about control. People who feel out of control in their lives sometimes turn to dieting because at least the food we put into our mouths is something we have complete control over.

Not eating makes me feel powerful. And a little naughty. Like I have a secret strength that no one else has. Kind of like when I had my secret bottle of wine for strength and support? Hmmm, maybe. Looking back, I can see that my "pickyness" as a child/teen had a lot to do with control. My parents were extremely controlling and domineering, especially my dad. The one place I could relatively safely defy him was by not opening my mouth to put food he wanted me to in.

So all this lovely insight gained. When I was drinking, I never would have thought about all these things, never analyzed them, never even noticed them probably. I'd love this post to end something like, "gee-whiz, I realize that I have a problem, my thinking has been crazy and I'm not going to act on it because I'm so insightful." However the reality is more like this: "I realize my thinking is kinda crazy. However I like it and want to act on it." Wow, I have a long way to go.

Thursday, August 27, 2009

Day 14

So what can a mommy / alcoholic say about her drinking in the 15 minutes she has before she has to put the kids to bed? Not as much as she'd like to, particularly since f'ing creditors won't stop calling every five f'ing minutes. But she'll try.

Day 14. Two weeks. Wow, I am simultaneously impressed and incredibly depressed. Impressed that I made it this far, I can't remember the last time I was sober for 14 days consecutively, it was probably back before I started drinking and drugging when I was 16. Depressed because it's only been two weeks! How can that be, I feel as if a life-time has passed in these 14 days. How will I ever make it through the next weeks, months, years?! Argh! I know they say one day at a time but that shit don't work for me. I have to tell myself never again or I WILL drink tomorrow, and I don't want that.

I'm keeping my motivation in the front of my mind, my two kids. They deserve a sober mommy. They deserve to grow up and know they were safe and cared for at all time. My eldest is going into third grade, she's old enough to notice when mommy is acting weird. Old enough to start figuring out that I'm not okay. And that's not okay. I don't want her to worry about me, or be embarrassed of me, or afraid of me. When she's a teen I want to be able to tell her honestly about the dangers of drinking or using to members of our family. I don't want her, or her sister, to repeat mine and her father's mistakes.

So I'll keep at this not drinking thing, even though it's turning me into a monstrous bitch from hell, on the job and off. I may get fired for talking back to my superiors, but at least I'll be sober when it happens.

Wednesday, August 26, 2009

Day 13

I want a drink. I want a drink. I want a drink. I want a drink. I want a drink. I want a drink. I want a drink. I want a drink. I want a drink. I want a drink. I want a drink. I want a drink. I want a drink. I want a drink. I want a drink. I want a drink. I want a drink. I want a drink. I want a drink. I want a drink. I want a drink. I want a drink. I want a drink. I want a drink. I want a drink.

I didn't take one. I'm not going to take one today.

Being sober sucks, but being a drunk sucks worse.

Saturday, August 22, 2009

Day 9

I'm sick. You'd think this would make staying sober easier, but the fact of the matter is that each day is progressively harder. Because I'm sick I can't go to meetings, but after the third meeting the shine really wore off. I'm no longer on that pink cloud of recovery, I'm just angry and sad that I can't have a drink ever again. I know I'm supposed to go day by day, but I can't stop that never again mantra from running through my head.

When I started this blog I thought it would serve as a diary of my recovery. In being such, I would write about my previous blunders, farces, and feelings. I would get everything out. Now I find that my thoughts are stuck to the inside of my brain like glue, and are refusing to move. One of these days maybe I'll be able to do as I wished.

Thursday, August 20, 2009

Day 7

Today's been a rough one. It's been seven days since I had a drink, which is probably the longest I've ever been sober in one stretch since I started drinking and drugging when I was a teen. The past six days weren't exactly easy sailing, but it was always in the front of my mind as I craved that drink that I couldn't take it. I'd stare at that last bottle of beer in the fridge and go weak in the knees with desire, but I knew I couldn't give in. Today though... I... forgot? Forgot you say?! How the fuck do you forget your a drunk? Well, it happens kinda like this:

It was a rough day at work. Yeah, yeah, yeah we all have those days. I'm not making excuses, just setting the scene, ok? It was a rough day, full of problems, breakdowns and stress. As I was getting ready to go home, the thought flashed through my head of how great it was going to be to go home, relax in front of the TV, and have a glass of wine. I savored this thought for several seconds before my dream train ran into the brick wall of my alcoholism. First came, "shit girl, you can't have a glass of wine, you're going sober!" Then came, "how could I forget that?"

I think for the first time this week, I was kept mentally distracted enough to forget about AA and getting sober. Forgetting about them allowed my old thought habits to resurface unrestrained, like a monster from the depths. It was a depressing awakening as to how very far I have to go before I'm really sober.

But you know what? I still didn't take that drink ;-)