Tuesday, December 11, 2012
Different From You, Same As Me
I might drink just like you- always watching for the last bit, making sure that doesn't happen (unless there's particularly drink-y company over who out drink me and don't know the rule about saving enough for the end of the night since running out before passing out is never a good thing and then my husband then has to go just up the street for overpriced beer).
You might drink like me- a few in quick succession to start while you cook dinner, sneak outside for a cigarette or two while the kids are parked in front of the TV. Delaying dinner by ten more minutes so you can sneak outside one more time before the whole dinner/bath/stories saga starts and you know you can't just leave in the middle of all that.
Or you might be a person who has one glass of wine with dinner, or maybe two and not finish the second. I have always wanted to be that person, but that idea fades quickly after I've had the first glass. Mmmmmm. MORE! My head announces, not even pretending to pay attention to logic. Or the children.
I'm starting my fourth day sober today. Last night I told my husband the news that I MUST quit drinking, that I am scared, that I don't want to be this person trapped in a time warp any fucking more. And he was scared, and said "OK" a lot which just pissed me off because I wanted a whole big unnecessary conversation filled with drama and "oh no" and "you don't mean it". He knows me well, and so the conversation was short and sweet, right to the point. He: "Yes, I can see why you think you have a problem. I will support you one hundred percent." Me: "Waaaaa, waaaaa, all you say is OK. Waaaaaaa, waaaaaa." Learning to listen to the other side of conversations will be one benefit of pulling my head from my ass.
I was thinking this morning that I am a liar, and also an attention junkie. But by liar I mean to myself- I make up all these elaborate excuses and reasons for things to be acceptable to others in my head, although it is totally not necessary. My dramatic behavior (random passionate outbursts, random passionate suggestions for changing things around the house, random fits of anger at the children or my husband- pent up frustration that penetrates days of my life) all to get some kind of attention, anything! To get someone to really notice me and listen to me. (a ha!) Except I'm only me in fits and starts, just someone trying to hide who I am and what I'm doing with some moments of authenticity ever now and again.
Looking forward to today. And scared fucking shitless of it too.
Sunday, December 10, 2023
Still different, still same
Being sober for a long time means I’ve gotten used to the way lessons come around again and again. It makes total sense that I was scared shitless back then- do you know how many times I tried to quit drinking over a twenty-seven year alcohol career? Hundreds at least. The way I drank was so- relentless.
It’s intriguing to read my old description of myself. I sound…childish. Like a four year old. I didn’t realize I was so immature. I thought that my husband wasn’t good at communicating and the kids weren’t good listeners- that if they would only see things my way it would work out just fine. I was seriously kidding myself, no surprise there, and also how embarrassing. It feels tender to picture myself being so righteous and thinking that they were so annoying, totally missing it that it was actually me. I was the one.
It’s also interesting to remember how much I thought about drinking, how much mental energy it took every day: the hangover, dealing with the hangover, promising myself not to drink, deciding to drink. Thinking about when to go, what to get. The mental hoops I jumped through to justify my behavior. No wonder I wasn’t seeing what was actually happening- I wasn’t really present. Wow.
I have been thinking a lot about responsibility this week. When I first got sober I wanted to take ALL the responsibility- it was all my fault, I will take all the blame and now we can neatly move on. What I was really doing was taking other people’s responsibility and not doing what I needed to do- take my own. More about this on Wednesday.
I haven’t gone to AA but twice- once when I was 23, and then again a few months after I quit drinking sometime in the spring of 2013. My therapist occasionally suggests it, and really encourages me to go to do 4th step work. To have a sponsor. To say things out loud. I still feel shy, and like I’m not sure it’s what I want, and I also know that I have been recovering in my own bubble for many years now. It’s similar to my stunted growth back when I was yelling at my husband and the kids. I can see there’s more, that the incredible progress I’ve made has more to offer if I can open to other ideas.
I’m still trying to be me, trying to figure out who me is. I’m getting closer, it’s easier to for me to notice myself and listen to me. I feel like I spent a lot of my life outside of myself, and I am really recognizing my own preferences and inner guidance more and more every day. The thing with my mom snapped something in me that I can’t unfeel, and now a few weeks later I am grateful it happened, even though it was painful- it jarred something awake that had been asleep for far too long.
The scared feeling hasn’t gone away, I’m a little surprised at noticing that. I feel different from who I was back in 2012, and yet…there are ways my addiction shows up still. I have grown immensely, and I feel like because of that growth I have the capability to face the things I don’t want to deal with. That I haven’t been able to even see until now.
The lessons are the same, and they are different. They just get more complex, more advanced, more complicated and yet- more basic. Like: they are the things that are at the heart of it, the things you can’t lie to yourself about even though you try. No matter what you do you’re in there with you. It’s like a slow reduction.