Another Day One is on the horizon. Currently, I'm warming up for the challenge.
In my listening and learning from bloggers, podcasters and writers that have gone before me in the search for a dry life, I've found that most folks don't have a clean cut stop story. Many starts and stops, fits, attempts and failures. Tiny successes along the way stringing together patches of good days. I've had the same experience, I guess. 12 days here, 10 days there, 5 days another time...when I think about it, though, I've probably only had a total of 45 dry days (just guessing here), outside of 2 pregnancies, in the past 8 years.
March 6, 2020 was different.
I actually named it. Wrote it down. Declared it Day One. I was ready to tackle the beast. My head was right and my resolve was strong. I made it almost 2 whole weeks and, looking back, don't remember it being the hardest thing I've ever done in my life. I made it through, after all. Then, March 15, 2020 happened. That was the day that the whole country effectively shut down...including schools. I've previously outlined that day drinking was somewhat a part of my norm prior to shut down...wine at lunch with friends, or even alone often times. I viewed drinking as a form of entertainment during quarantine since everything else was off limits and we were all homebound. It goes without saying but when everything is shut down, everything is shut down. I stopped going to the gym and, over the following several months, the booze with no exercise took a toll on my health. I turned 40 back in May and I'm not trying to seem dramatic here but I think it is true that things start to change with age and maybe 40 is one of those visible markers. Maybe the changes were subtle enough for only me to notice but I could see visible changes in my skin, aches and pains in random places, bloodshot eyes, I constantly felt bloated and was unable to remember the simplest of details it seemed.
In experiencing all of these changes and now having learned about the long-term physical effects that I was risking with my health, the nagging feeling of needing to quit just would not, will not, stop.
My husband's parents were in town as I wrote this and it seems like an unlikely time for me to dive into this again as my MIL is a big drinker. This brings me to the challenge of my husband. In the past, I've brought up the thought that maybe I'm a problematic drinker, maybe I need some accountability, possibly need to give it up altogether and maybe I'll need help doing so. He's brushed it off. He's also admitted that maybe we both have a problem. I guess I've never been so heart wrenched in front of him for it to be taken seriously. But honestly, he has to SEE me, right? Is my problem so well concealed that he's not concerned?
Last night, I drank. I was able to hold off and not day drink. I consider that a small victory, by the way. We spent the afternoon at a dock fishing for crabs and, as always, there was a cooler full of options. I was able to stick to my water but when 5:00 rolled around and I was making dinner, wine felt appropriate. This continued for many hours and now, at 8:00 AM the next day, I have no idea how my night ended. I cannot account for the last couple of hours of my Saturday night and that is an all too familiar feeling.
As I've been thinking through all of this and really considering what my life will look like should I attain sobriety, I am both anxious and excited. Nervous that I can't actually do it but so thrilled at what life might actually come from the effort. I've long since realized that my habits need to change in order to make this happen but recently I've been thinking about my friendships. Seems like an obvious extension of this change but it's only recently occured to me, honestly. How many of my friendships exist only because of the shared desire to drink?
I guess all of this thought and reflection are just natural building blocks to a firm foundation so I'll take it as progress!
In my listening and learning from bloggers, podcasters and writers that have gone before me in the search for a dry life, I've found that most folks don't have a clean cut stop story. Many starts and stops, fits, attempts and failures. Tiny successes along the way stringing together patches of good days. I've had the same experience, I guess. 12 days here, 10 days there, 5 days another time...when I think about it, though, I've probably only had a total of 45 dry days (just guessing here), outside of 2 pregnancies, in the past 8 years.
March 6, 2020 was different.
I actually named it. Wrote it down. Declared it Day One. I was ready to tackle the beast. My head was right and my resolve was strong. I made it almost 2 whole weeks and, looking back, don't remember it being the hardest thing I've ever done in my life. I made it through, after all. Then, March 15, 2020 happened. That was the day that the whole country effectively shut down...including schools. I've previously outlined that day drinking was somewhat a part of my norm prior to shut down...wine at lunch with friends, or even alone often times. I viewed drinking as a form of entertainment during quarantine since everything else was off limits and we were all homebound. It goes without saying but when everything is shut down, everything is shut down. I stopped going to the gym and, over the following several months, the booze with no exercise took a toll on my health. I turned 40 back in May and I'm not trying to seem dramatic here but I think it is true that things start to change with age and maybe 40 is one of those visible markers. Maybe the changes were subtle enough for only me to notice but I could see visible changes in my skin, aches and pains in random places, bloodshot eyes, I constantly felt bloated and was unable to remember the simplest of details it seemed.
In experiencing all of these changes and now having learned about the long-term physical effects that I was risking with my health, the nagging feeling of needing to quit just would not, will not, stop.
My husband's parents were in town as I wrote this and it seems like an unlikely time for me to dive into this again as my MIL is a big drinker. This brings me to the challenge of my husband. In the past, I've brought up the thought that maybe I'm a problematic drinker, maybe I need some accountability, possibly need to give it up altogether and maybe I'll need help doing so. He's brushed it off. He's also admitted that maybe we both have a problem. I guess I've never been so heart wrenched in front of him for it to be taken seriously. But honestly, he has to SEE me, right? Is my problem so well concealed that he's not concerned?
Last night, I drank. I was able to hold off and not day drink. I consider that a small victory, by the way. We spent the afternoon at a dock fishing for crabs and, as always, there was a cooler full of options. I was able to stick to my water but when 5:00 rolled around and I was making dinner, wine felt appropriate. This continued for many hours and now, at 8:00 AM the next day, I have no idea how my night ended. I cannot account for the last couple of hours of my Saturday night and that is an all too familiar feeling.
As I've been thinking through all of this and really considering what my life will look like should I attain sobriety, I am both anxious and excited. Nervous that I can't actually do it but so thrilled at what life might actually come from the effort. I've long since realized that my habits need to change in order to make this happen but recently I've been thinking about my friendships. Seems like an obvious extension of this change but it's only recently occured to me, honestly. How many of my friendships exist only because of the shared desire to drink?
I guess all of this thought and reflection are just natural building blocks to a firm foundation so I'll take it as progress!
Comments
Post a Comment