April 11, 2006 I was sitting in a fancy Italian restaurant with my husband. I was horribly hungover from the night before. I had probably put away about two and a half bottles of Chardonnay by myself, then got up and went to work the next morning at 8:00am. I may have been still drunk technically as I drove to work, then the hangover would set in around noon and I would scrape through the rest of the day.
We were sitting in this fancy restaurant for dinner and the idea was to have a romantic evening. There was nothing romantic about my wan complexion, my puffy face and red nose, the deadness in my eyes and my churning stomach. I didn't want to be there, I wanted to be home in bed so I could try again the next day to string together two or three days where I didn't drink myself into a blackout or unconsciousness. Every time I started to recover from a hangover, I wanted to be drunk again, dead drunk. It was the only place I had any peace and quiet.
My husband broached the subject of my stress at work. Long hours, busy days. He was settling into a new position at his job and making decent money and suggested that maybe I quit working for awhile. He could see what it was doing to me. The stress of my job was making me miserable, and I was drinking more and more. He was offering to shoulder the financial load so I could make art for awhile, maybe a year or so.
He thought that work was making me miserable, that work was making me drink. He didn't know what I knew right then. That the drinking was making me drink, and the drinking was making me miserable, and that not working wasn't going to make me quit drinking. I had a sudden vision of my non-working days before me. All-nighters with a paintbrush and a bottle. All day nursing a hangover only to do it again, and again, and again. I saw wine bottles turning into vodka bottles and I saw myself growing sicker and sicker. I saw my life fall apart, I saw my friends and family disgusted with what I would become. I saw my husband leaving me, alone in a big house full of messy paintings and booze. I had my moment of clarity.
That is when my journey truly started. I started this blog over a year after that day. I spent a year going to therapy, going to WFS (Women for Sobriety) meetings and a few AA meetings, having a relapse here at there at the beginning. One time I was reading the Big Book with a glass of wine in my hand! How horrible is that?!
I realized when I got sober that my problems were not the booze alone. That was terrifying. I had thought that if I removed the drinking everything else would fall into place, not so. I believe that is what causes the most relapses, becoming aware that even sober, we still have problems. I got sober, and other problems presented themselves. I tackled the ones I could work on, I had to temporarily ignore the ones I couldn't change.
Also, it me aware that since booze was not the only problem for me, perhaps it wasn't the biggest problem. I started drinking again, carefully and moderately, and continued therapy.
Alcoholism may be black and white for some people. I know for certain I have used and abused alcohol in my life over and over again. Physically, I do not believe I am an alcoholic. I don't think that genetic code is there on my DNA. Psychologically, I have struggled with learning to deal with life. Early on (as a teen) alcohol was my savior and I stuck with it even when it wasn't "working" anymore as an adult.
I believe the term "alcoholic" has a grey area. I put the label on myself for a year, tried it out, and it didn't feel like it fit after awhile. At first the stories I heard sounded familiar and I could nod my head and think, "yes, yes, me too", but after a time those stories sounded less and less like me. As my head cleared I identified less with the people around me who were supposed to be my peers. I didn't "get" the woman who looked at the bottle of mouthwash and thought about drinking it. I didn't "get" the guy who went out for a beer and then woke up three days later at home with no clothes on. Those stories didn't make any sense to me....and I started to question everything all over again.
I had a bad habit. I needed options. I found quite a few options. Over the past three years I've changed my way of doing things, and also changed my outlook on life and what I am doing here on this earth. Even when I go though old journal entries, or entries here on this blog I can read the difference in my voice. There is a calmness there that never existed before. There is a quiet place in my head I never knew I could go to without alcohol. The fact that I can choose to drink or not drink is the biggest step for me. I am not left without a choice anymore.
I hated thinking I had no choice. When I was drinking heavily I had no choice, I couldn't stop myself. When I was 100% abstinent I had no choice, and that was what I needed for a time, but then that pissed me off too. I guess I'm just as stubborn as a mule. I wanted to have my sobriety and my clear head, and drink my beer too.
I was warned, you "go back out" and it will be worse than before. I've been waiting for that, since 2007. I've had other problems pop up, and life is not always a bed of roses, and I quit going to therapy and then found myself back again a year later, for other reasons, and still I am not drinking two and a half bottles of white wine in a sitting. Still I am using other coping skills and learning how to swim in this life, how to Swim in Clear Water. I will be learning and practicing for the rest of my days.
My decision to end this blog is mostly because I'm tried of the subject. It doesn't consume me anymore. Last summer I veered off and had months of posts revolving around other problems in my life that I could never go into much detail about. It was hard because I wanted to write about it, but it would have been revealing too much about the inner workings of my marriage, it would have been half my husbands story, which is not mine to tell, and none of it had anything to do with alcoholism or recovery.
Let me say he and I would not have been able to get where we are today if I had not addressed my drinking problem starting back in 2006. We may not have even made it to 2007. Had I continued on that path I would be a very sick woman right now. I could not have kept up that kind of behavior. Had we tried to address the more recent issues with all the drinking going on, we would have gotten nowhere.
I feel fortunate that I am where I am in this life. I am glad I stumbled upon the blog format, and found other bloggers over the past three and a half years to commiserate with, to sometimes disagree with. To read and enjoy all your stories, your wit and wisdom, to appreciate your comments publicly here and privately via email. I will keep my blogger profile so I can still comment on your blogs. I will keep my swimmingclear (at) gmail (dot) com email active so you can say hello if you like. I may even start a new blog at some point. Maybe a blog about painting, about trying to be an artist. Maybe I'll start a blog about being 40. Maybe I'll write about being childless by choice. Maybe when I hit menopause I'll need to write about that. I'm sure something will come up to consume me eventually.
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