So the latest question my brain has been tormenting me with: Do I love my children less than other mothers love their children?
There were times when I chose to drink over what was best for them. Many times. When we hear stories about moms who did neglectful or just plain stupid things that caused their kids harm, we automatically think "I could never". Well, the thing is, I did. Now my issue is, can we measure the amount of love for our kids in a cup? Can it be half full? How do you know if you love your kids as much as the next mom out there - you can't be in her head? The only way we have to measure the love for the people in our lives is the things we do for them, the way we treat them and the respect we show them. So what happens when your love for them is in question?
How about when I let my kids watch extra TV because I need a break? I know TV is not good for them, I know what the limit should be. I let them eat McDonald's once in a while. Everyone has clicked the link to see what is actually in (or not in) the mystery meat they use. Is this a measure of my motherly love?
Tuesday, June 12, 2012
Sunday, June 10, 2012
Logic who?
Just being honest here - that is what one of my mentors in AA always says before she says something difficult. I like it.
We are cleaning out our storage area in the basement. Waking up too early (as usual) this morning, I started back in and found wine stashed. We found a couple bottles last night too, but they were empty, so this was...hard. I left it alone, looking up once in a while to stare. My mouth actually watered, my stomach grumbled...I could taste the wine, feel it on my tongue, feel the warmth spread in my tummy. I finally called my mom (didn't really expect her to answer) just to hear her voice tell me to leave a message and bucked up enough to pour it down the bathroom sink. The smell was heavenly, like a long forgotten friends perfume - I wanted to hold a towel over my head and just breath it.
"Alcoholism is the only disease that tells you
you're
all right." One of the MANY slogans you hear in AA, one that rings very true.
With summer here and a lot of people in my neighborhood drinking outside, I have been thinking that since I have never been able to quit for any length of time and now I have done it (my first mistake, thinking I did it all by myself), maybe I can also make the decision to moderate my drunkenness. Getting drunk only twice a month or something. I have already decided I don't want to be a casual drinker - one or two glasses of wine at night is a waste of time, money and calories. Truly, why does anyone just drink a couple? But if I can just control myself enough to only get smashed a couple of nights a month, that would be OK, right? No drinking during the day, no drinking on the job - put the kids to bed, let my hubs know it's game on and start slamming wine until I've had my (newly decided limit) two bottles. I get to turn off the brain, listen to music loudly, dance party in the garage, wake up hungover with him (in my little perfect world, he would love this idea and get drunk with me) and we would complain the next day about how horrible we feel, eat a really fattening dinner and I wouldn't touch the stuff again until the next planned night. Sounds so perfect - but then, what if? What if AA is right and I will start right where I left off? What if I have to drink one of the mornings of the hangovers and never stop. What if I can't control it again and I pass out during the day and one of my kids wanders into the street. What if someone stops by unannounced while I am blitzed and calls CPS. What if I leave them alone to run to Kroger for more wine and see someone I know there? What if I have a seizure from suddenly introducing alcohol again to my system in huge amounts and die, leaving my kids to fend for themselves until he gets home from work? What if what if what if.....is it really worth it? Logically, I am healthy, I'm running in the mornings, I'm eating right, my system is recovering - and, most importantly, I am starting to enjoy living without drinking, which is amazing! But, a lot of times, running the risk seems worth finding out. I realize, to some people, this doesn't make sense. (Reading this back to myself, I am one of those people.) For years now I have been reading books and memoirs about addiction (another clue that I knew the problem was there) and more than a few have pointed out that addiction is stronger than motherly instinct, stronger than the instinct of self-preservation. I have to put faith in the fact that this is one of those times. I need to crank it up a notch, call my sponsor, call whoever, go to meetings, work the steps and (God willing) this too shall pass. Just don't take that first drink.
Page 24 from the Big Book:
"The tragic truth is that if the man be a real alcoholic...he has
lost control. At a certain point in the drinking of every alcoholic, he
passes into a state where the most powerful desire to stop drinking is
of absolutely no avail. This tragic situation has already arrived in
practically every case long before it is suspected."
"The fact is that most alcoholics, for reasons yet obscure, have lost the power of choice in drink. Our so-called will power becomes practically nonexistent. We are unable, at certain times, to bring into our consciousness with sufficient force the memory of the suffering and humiliation of even a week or a month ago. We are without defense against the first drink."
"The fact is that most alcoholics, for reasons yet obscure, have lost the power of choice in drink. Our so-called will power becomes practically nonexistent. We are unable, at certain times, to bring into our consciousness with sufficient force the memory of the suffering and humiliation of even a week or a month ago. We are without defense against the first drink."
I have come to believe that this passage is not speaking of only the drinker that drinks everyday or all day, but the drinker that suspects there may be a problem, but is still having fun most of the time. The drinker that says "I will not drink during the week" - "I will only have a couple except for special occasions" - "I will only drink beer." - "I will only drink liquor on days that start with T, beer on days that start with W and both on days beginning with S." (We can get pretty tricky, lemme tell ya...) The reason I believe this is because I used to be that drinker. I remember telling myself I was going to cut back, I was going to only drink this much or that alcohol. I was successful at every one of those promises to myself for a while. For many many years I won at this game, but the sentence that tells me the truth, "for reasons yet obscure, have lost the power of choice in drink", is staring me in the face. I ALWAYS made the choice - thinking that that's what it was, a choice - to keep drinking. Didn't matter what, how much, to what limit, when, where - somewhere in all of these schemes throughout the years, drinking was always part of the plan. I think the powerful desire to stop comes way too late. LONG before alcoholism is suspected. The powerful desire to stop only comes when your life or the way you live it is threatened, and only then do you realize that stopping is not an option, that you have no idea when you stepped over that line in the sand. I thank God every morning that I found my way out, that I was able to ask for His help before it was too late. A very small percentage get to do that, and an even smaller percentage never go back. I want to be a survivor and be there to tell my story to the next alcoholic that needs help, and I choose today to not take that first drink.
Thank GOD. Crap, that was close. Thanks again, dear readers, for being there when everyone else in my life was sleeping :)
Monday, June 4, 2012
Let me explain...
I realize that I have not mentioned in any of my previous posts that I relapsed. I was discharged from the hospital, stayed sober for around a month and then I gave in. The last post I made before I caved was January 30. This isn't to say that I quit trying - I was, as posted earlier today, a miserable wretch. The two weeks of drinking before I took that first step were, by far, the worst of my life. Not the most, but the worst. Just thought I would clear that up...you know, just in case any of my thousands of fans out there were wondering :)
Movie Night
Four months. I cannot believe it has been (almost) four months since a drop of alcohol has entered this body. (Well, technically, I have had the wine at church...and it was delicious.) I haven't written on this blog in a while...can't really say why - my life being so full of excitement and intrigue...but it feels really good when I do write, so I am going to try to start again. It will be nice to have a look back years from now. Whether or not that will be a hazy, half-remembered peek is yet to be determined, but so far so good. As my friends in the 6:30 AA group tell me, I am right where I am supposed to be. I wish I could figure out where that was, exactly, but good to know I'm there. I actually go days without wanting to drink, maybe a whole day without thinking about it. And when I do think about alcohol, it is mostly a fleeting thought - not something I dwell on like I did before. Some days are easier, but I think that goes with anything. I feel like I hit another milestone though, I have been going to the movies at night and not thinking of drinking. AMAZING. I go to the movies, sit through the whole movie (laugh, cry, eat a shit-ton of popcorn) and don't think about the fact that I am not drinking at all. Crazy good stuff.
Well, here I am again
Well, I have decided to resurrect the blog - I feel like a lot has happened and nothing has happened...aaaahh, motherhood. Summer is finally here, which is a slightly double-edged sword. My kids can finally play outside, but I can also walk down the street and witness my neighbors enjoying a glass of wine on the porch or some cold beers while grilling...jealous. I am coming up on the fourth month of no drinky. FOUR MONTHS...and I am not pregnant. Actually, I didn't even go four months when I was pregnant. I followed this website's advice, drinking the absolute MOST that I could without the definition of binge drinking. Looking bad, it seems so desperate. I had to have wine that badly that I was measuring out, getting absolutely every drop that I could before it would be considered harmful in my eyes. I thank God that I at least had the where-with-all
http://www.babycentre.co.uk/pregnancy/nutrition/foodsafety/alcohol/
http://www.babycentre.co.uk/pregnancy/nutrition/foodsafety/alcohol/
Sunday, April 1, 2012
Bla bla bla
I really miss my wine. I know I'm better off without it, and I do get little glimpses of how life is easier, better, more "life" without being drunk all of the time - but right now they are just glimpses. My AA peeps tell me all the time "I'm right where I'm supposed to be." Which is good to know. But I really want to be where they are. Happy, content - they don't seem to miss it at all. I know that motherhood is a very precious gift, and I love my children more than anything - but life with three little ones THIS little is really really really lonely. Especially when your husband works sixty plus hours per week and NO ONE can ever hang out. It seems like the last few months everyone has been sick or busy or both. I'm striking up conversations with the UPS guy...very sad. The even sadder thing is he probably gets that a lot and goes home and laughs about it over beers with his friends. If I could go to the gym, take up a few new hobbies, go shopping - anything - I think I would miss my wine A LOT less. Sometimes I wish I would have discovered I was an alcoholic when my youngest daughter started going to school. Much easier. Wine was my relief for the boredom and loneliness. A respite from the endless "mom"s and the breaking up of fights, all the cleaning and changing of diapers. Wine made my day go by a bit faster.
But then I have to look at the other side. If I could have kept it to a few glasses of wine to make the afternoons a bit lighter, that would have been better. But I can't. I would have missed their childhood. I would have had to cancel playdates or school events because I wasn't able to drive. I always had a hangover until I drank it away. There were days that I couldn't stand up straight because I felt so sick until I had that first glass of wine. I have to remember everything CORRECTLY before I decide to have that first drink again. I wouldn't have gotten to where I am if I would have been able to keep it to a few glasses of wine
But then I have to look at the other side. If I could have kept it to a few glasses of wine to make the afternoons a bit lighter, that would have been better. But I can't. I would have missed their childhood. I would have had to cancel playdates or school events because I wasn't able to drive. I always had a hangover until I drank it away. There were days that I couldn't stand up straight because I felt so sick until I had that first glass of wine. I have to remember everything CORRECTLY before I decide to have that first drink again. I wouldn't have gotten to where I am if I would have been able to keep it to a few glasses of wine
Saturday, February 25, 2012
So a couple of days ago I took my kids to the playground. It's about 1/4 of a mile away from our house - we live at the end of a dead end road and you have to walk all the way up the street and another half block and you're there. It was around 5:30pm, which normally by this time I would already have a pretty solid buzz, so it felt really good, really "grown-up" and "responsible" to be doing it sober. We were having a great time! Which lasted about ten minutes. My son, who just turned four, realized he forgot to bring his basketball and wanted to go back and get it. Well, hells to the no we were not walking all the way back to get the damn ball when it was going to be dark in the next half hour. Cue temper tantrum.
Off subject a little, just to catch you up a bit on the home life...
Being drunk/hungover most of the time, I was never consistent with my punishments. I had no follow through. I would threaten and cajole, sometimes cry, but never really put into action the many horrible things I would promise were going to take place if my kids didn't do as they were told. HUGE mistake. They take nothing I say seriously. So now I am on this kick that whatever I say (if you don't stop screaming, you will stay in your room forever) will happen. I really have to be careful about my threats. Once they are out I can't take them back. It is really hard to think on the fly when you are furious - I find myself yelling things like "If you don't stop running on the couch....I don't even KNOW what's gonna happen!!" Scary, right? I'm a work in progress.
Back to tantrum...
He is PISSED. He's yelling at me, switching from standing with his arms crossed over his chest to kicking the grass and stomping his foot. So I make the stupendous mistake of blurting "That's it! We are going home!" I wasn't ready, my daughters weren't ready, I'm just in such a horrible habit of making threats and not following through, it was out before I could think. Now I have to pack up the baby in her stroller and get my daughter to leave with me. Which is not going to happen.
Picture this: A mom jogging her stroller down the street, two kids screaming bloody murder behind her. They are throwing themselves on the ground, getting up, catching up with said stroller and then throwing themselves onto the ground again. Over and over until we get home. At one point, my son was even running in front of me to try to get me to stop. I had three neighbors open their doors to find out what all the hubbub was. A very nice woman even offered to let me leave my son with her. (I don't think she had any idea how close I was to pretending she was serious.) My daughter was grabbing onto my coat, so I was half-dragging her part of the way. A drunk night would have been a sure thing not too long ago - what a perfect excuse to get hammered. But I didn't. At one point, believe it or not, I was laughing so hard I had tears rolling down my face. Adjusting to sobriety when real life happens is a weird thing. God, I just needed help in that moment - thank you. And if anyone out there has some pointers on solid threats to make that don't ruin everybody's good time, I am open to suggestions!
Off subject a little, just to catch you up a bit on the home life...
Being drunk/hungover most of the time, I was never consistent with my punishments. I had no follow through. I would threaten and cajole, sometimes cry, but never really put into action the many horrible things I would promise were going to take place if my kids didn't do as they were told. HUGE mistake. They take nothing I say seriously. So now I am on this kick that whatever I say (if you don't stop screaming, you will stay in your room forever) will happen. I really have to be careful about my threats. Once they are out I can't take them back. It is really hard to think on the fly when you are furious - I find myself yelling things like "If you don't stop running on the couch....I don't even KNOW what's gonna happen!!" Scary, right? I'm a work in progress.
Back to tantrum...
He is PISSED. He's yelling at me, switching from standing with his arms crossed over his chest to kicking the grass and stomping his foot. So I make the stupendous mistake of blurting "That's it! We are going home!" I wasn't ready, my daughters weren't ready, I'm just in such a horrible habit of making threats and not following through, it was out before I could think. Now I have to pack up the baby in her stroller and get my daughter to leave with me. Which is not going to happen.
Picture this: A mom jogging her stroller down the street, two kids screaming bloody murder behind her. They are throwing themselves on the ground, getting up, catching up with said stroller and then throwing themselves onto the ground again. Over and over until we get home. At one point, my son was even running in front of me to try to get me to stop. I had three neighbors open their doors to find out what all the hubbub was. A very nice woman even offered to let me leave my son with her. (I don't think she had any idea how close I was to pretending she was serious.) My daughter was grabbing onto my coat, so I was half-dragging her part of the way. A drunk night would have been a sure thing not too long ago - what a perfect excuse to get hammered. But I didn't. At one point, believe it or not, I was laughing so hard I had tears rolling down my face. Adjusting to sobriety when real life happens is a weird thing. God, I just needed help in that moment - thank you. And if anyone out there has some pointers on solid threats to make that don't ruin everybody's good time, I am open to suggestions!
Tuesday, February 21, 2012
Trust fall?
For those of you who aren't familiar with what a trust fall is...
Tosh.0: Viewer Surprise Trust Falls - Video Clip | Tosh.0 | Comedy Central
Now read on.....
Tosh.0: Viewer Surprise Trust Falls - Video Clip | Tosh.0 | Comedy Central
Now read on.....
AA - woot woot!
My husband is some kind of crazy. He is like this weird rock that just IS. He is my person that I can play "trust fall" with (although I know he moves out of the way once in a while, he only does it when he is in desperate need of a laugh) and he just won't give up on me. I don't think he even believed that I was going to meetings half of the time at first, but he kept on keeping on. He really is what made me finally decide to put my whole heart into this AA nonsense. They say it doesn't matter what gets you there as long as you get there. He definitely makes it on my reasons to stay sober list. My kids should too, but what do they know? I was a lot of fun as tipsy mommy.
I'm still in shock that my AA steps are in full force and are actually working. I am on step four (which is a bitch no matter what anyone says) and it's all working. I can't believe I am one of those weird, smiley AA people. I really thought the whole thing was such a waste of time, I would never be able to go every day, I figured it would keep everyone happy if I went when I could and I would just plug away at stopping drinking all on my lonesome. If there is ANYONE reading this who may think they have a problem (and usually if you think you do.....) please read all of step one, the really long version. I feel like a little miracle has worked in the very center of me. I'm not making anyone any promises, and I'm not going to say I will never drink again (saying that puts me into panic mode). But I have had over a week without drinking that I feel kinda happy. Kinda good. I have had many weeks of just "not drinking" but for the first time ever I'm not clinging to the edge of this razor blade all day, the tips of my fingers bleeding, just hoping to make it through into bed only to start it all over again when I wake up. I've gone hours - yes HOURS - without thinking about wine. It really is like my own little tiny miracle, and I did my step one exactly seven days ago, the day that I wrote my last post. Baloney you say?? I say, yes. I wouldn't believe me if I were you either. Lord knows I have been plenty full of crap before. I really am having a hard time believing it myself. I've never had a miracle work in my presence that I was aware of before. No one but an alcoholic can know what the obsession is like and what it would feel like to have it lifted - it even tries to sneak back (it's only been a week, but here's to hoping) and I just have to say "BACK WINE DEMON - BE GONE WITH YOU. RELIEVE ME OF MY STINKIN THINKIN...BOO YAH!!" Just kidding. I just ask God for help, not for anything specific, but just for help right now in this moment and *poof* - he helps! A little too good to be true, eh? Miracles...who knew?
And by the way - I will never use the phrase "stinkin thinkin".
Monday, February 13, 2012
Twenty-four Hours a Day
I have never had a meditation from the twenty-four hour book ring so true as this mornings does. I need to put it on repeat and wear headphones while I am running my race today. Especially because I am a sooner than later type of gal. Boo.
A.A. Thought For The Day
Sometimes we can't help thinking: Why can't we ever drink again? We know it's because we're alcoholics, but why did we have to get that way? The answer is that at some point in our drinking careers, we passed what is called our "tolerance point." When we passed this point, we passed from a condition in which we could tolerate alcohol to a condition in which we could not tolerate it at all. After that, if we took one drink we would sooner or later end up drunk. When I think of wine now, do I think of it as something that I can never tolerate again?
Meditation For The Day
In a race, it is when a goal is in sight that heart and nerves and muscles and courage are strained almost to the breaking point. So with us. The goal of the spiritual life is in sight. All we need is the final effort. The saddest records made by people are those who ran well, with brave stout hearts, until the sight of the goal and then some weakness or self-indulgence held them back. They never knew how near the goal they were or how near they were to victory.
In a race, it is when a goal is in sight that heart and nerves and muscles and courage are strained almost to the breaking point. So with us. The goal of the spiritual life is in sight. All we need is the final effort. The saddest records made by people are those who ran well, with brave stout hearts, until the sight of the goal and then some weakness or self-indulgence held them back. They never knew how near the goal they were or how near they were to victory.
Prayer For The Day
I pray that I may press on until the goal is reached.
I pray that I may not give up in the final stretch.
I pray that I may not give up in the final stretch.
Tuesday, February 7, 2012
My angel
So this may shed a little light on why I am finding it so frigging hard not to drink toward the end of the day. My little two year old daughter - whom I love very very much - is what some would call "a handful." These are some of the stunts that she pulled:
- Getting so mad at me that I was making her get dressed, she smeared aquaphor into her hair.
- Smacking the water cup out of my hand, while full, onto the floor when I tried to pour it over her head.
- Tantrum in the bathtub, throwing wet toys and a wet washcloth at me.
- Taking the powder on the back of the toilet and covering every square inch of the bathroom in white while she was supposed to brushing her teeth.
- Shower gel in downstairs bathroom everywhere.
- As she is supposed to be drawing with her markers, somehow gets into my craft paint (which is hidden) and "paints" the carpet.
- Clinging to me like a spider monkey and screaming "I'm the mommy, I'm the boss" while I am trying to physically remove her from her craft room for painting the carpet.
- Hiding under the kitchen table, taking apart my FOURTH book light. FOURTH in two weeks. I had this one on the tippy top of my tall dresser. I think she is a spoon bender.
- As I have my back turned making her eggs, taking two out and smashing them Gallagher style, yoke everywhere in a matter of 0.3 seconds.
- All matter of shoving, hitting and screaming at her brother and I while we are "ignoring" her and trying to build a block tower. Her brother is four.
- Taking every book off of the bookshelf and throwing it against the wall while in her timeout.
- Drawing all over her bedroom wall.
- Trying to make her own chocolate milk and getting Ovaltine EVERYWHERE in the kitchen.
- Getting into my purse and destroying my last two favorite chap sticks.
Thursday, February 2, 2012
Make up make up
Whenever I suspect my husband is thinking about leaving me, I put on makeup. I am not a makeup person. I just think it's a lot harder for him to leave me if I look pretty.
Monday, January 30, 2012
Sponsor Shmonsor
I am so tired of thinking about drinking. It is constant. This relentless chattering ticks away in my brain until I think I may just go crazy.
It's like I am going through this horrible break-up with an abusive boyfriend. White wine is the man I can't get over, the lover that satisfied my every wanton need, but beat the crap out of me for wearing red socks. As I look back on all the good times we had, the reasons I left him don't seem so very horrible. I keep going around and around about how I can fix him. How I can change him - if I just do this or that or the other, he won't hurt me anymore. He needs me! I was his best friend, his everything! If I don't go back to him, what will I do? How will I live? What is worth living for anyway??
It has to get easier. I've been to meetings and the people there look happy with what they have done. I want what they have but I don't understand how they got there. I want to grab one of those smiling women by the shoulders and shake her until her teeth rattle out of her skull - ADMIT IT! YOU'RE MISERABLE! YOU SUCK AT LIFE! DRINKING IS AWESOME!! Maybe not the best approach to finding a sponsor.
The things I start to tell myself around 3 o'clock every afternoon sound foolish even to me, but it's a conversation I have anyway:
Yeti 1: "Maybe if we just get one bottle, we can nurse it until bedtime?"
Yeti 2: "One will never be enough. As long as we're going, better get two."
Yeti 1: "What about when we wake up sick tomorrow - we will need a little something to make us feel better. Best to grab a couple of those little bottles."
Yeti 3: "Tsk tsk...this is just going to start everything over and nobody has the patience for you to keep doing this to yourself - least of all your liver."
Yeti 1: "But how are we going to make it to bedtime when we just barely made it to nap time?"
Yeti 3: "That is why we need to find a sponsor."
Yeti 2: "Shut up, Yeti 3 - this is an A and B conversation. So who's driving?"
I truly realize I need a sponsor. Someone that has been there, knows that it feels impossible. I'm just horrified of small talk. I'm absolutely terrified of conversation. I'm one of those people that will spot someone I know in the grocery store and run in the other direction so I don't have to "chat" with them. And I may even really like that person!! It's just this weird social anxiety thing that doesn't make any sense, but it's there all the same. When I'm in the dredges, calling someone sounds good. As soon as I pick up the phone, I chicken out and tell myself I can work this out. I will get a sponsor when I find someone that really fits. Well, I'm starting to think it's that sneaky little wench, Yeti 2, that is feeding me this line. I need to get over myself or I am going to end up back in the bottle. That would be so fantastic to actually be able to get in the bottle...a bottle of white wine so big I could float in it. One can dream.
It's like I am going through this horrible break-up with an abusive boyfriend. White wine is the man I can't get over, the lover that satisfied my every wanton need, but beat the crap out of me for wearing red socks. As I look back on all the good times we had, the reasons I left him don't seem so very horrible. I keep going around and around about how I can fix him. How I can change him - if I just do this or that or the other, he won't hurt me anymore. He needs me! I was his best friend, his everything! If I don't go back to him, what will I do? How will I live? What is worth living for anyway??
It has to get easier. I've been to meetings and the people there look happy with what they have done. I want what they have but I don't understand how they got there. I want to grab one of those smiling women by the shoulders and shake her until her teeth rattle out of her skull - ADMIT IT! YOU'RE MISERABLE! YOU SUCK AT LIFE! DRINKING IS AWESOME!! Maybe not the best approach to finding a sponsor.
The things I start to tell myself around 3 o'clock every afternoon sound foolish even to me, but it's a conversation I have anyway:
Yeti 1: "Maybe if we just get one bottle, we can nurse it until bedtime?"
Yeti 2: "One will never be enough. As long as we're going, better get two."
Yeti 1: "What about when we wake up sick tomorrow - we will need a little something to make us feel better. Best to grab a couple of those little bottles."
Yeti 3: "Tsk tsk...this is just going to start everything over and nobody has the patience for you to keep doing this to yourself - least of all your liver."
Yeti 1: "But how are we going to make it to bedtime when we just barely made it to nap time?"
Yeti 3: "That is why we need to find a sponsor."
Yeti 2: "Shut up, Yeti 3 - this is an A and B conversation. So who's driving?"
I truly realize I need a sponsor. Someone that has been there, knows that it feels impossible. I'm just horrified of small talk. I'm absolutely terrified of conversation. I'm one of those people that will spot someone I know in the grocery store and run in the other direction so I don't have to "chat" with them. And I may even really like that person!! It's just this weird social anxiety thing that doesn't make any sense, but it's there all the same. When I'm in the dredges, calling someone sounds good. As soon as I pick up the phone, I chicken out and tell myself I can work this out. I will get a sponsor when I find someone that really fits. Well, I'm starting to think it's that sneaky little wench, Yeti 2, that is feeding me this line. I need to get over myself or I am going to end up back in the bottle. That would be so fantastic to actually be able to get in the bottle...a bottle of white wine so big I could float in it. One can dream.
Saturday, January 28, 2012
Aaaahhhh. Venting is good.
So maybe I'm not so good at this job. I feel bad for my kids, but this may be the truth. I was pretty good at all of my other jobs, I hope. I could punch in, stress or not stress throughout the day, talk to other people I worked with about how they were doing. Once in a while, I would call in sick (not sick) and spend the day catching up with Intervention episodes. I could even yell "this job sucks - I quit!!" and go find another job. I could take lunch with other adults...have a few laughs playing jokes on other people that I worked with. At the end of the day, I could even punch out and go home to a chilled bottle of white, watch a movie...maybe fall asleep on the couch. I'm not saying I would ever trade my kids for that life again, but maybe that is what makes this job so hard. No lunch, no other adults, no sick days. And I always have to say that I would never trade this job for anything...that would make me a horrible mother, right? Moms CANNOT be ungrateful for being able to stay home with their children. Ever. My husband works his buns off for me to be able to stay home. I mean it, the guy has no buns. Sometimes I just don't feel worthy. But I am going to wake up tomorrow, thank God that I didn't drink, and do my best to mold my little hellions into likable human beings. Just needed to vent a little...thanks.
Friday, January 27, 2012
Be A Better Parent Tea
http://www.blueq.com/shop/item/114-productId.125845853_114-catId..html
I have been up with our sweet little daughter since about 1 am. She finally went to sleep at around 5:30. I have no idea why, she was just up playing happily the whole time. As soon as I drifted off our other sweet little daughter woke up. And then our son woke up. I yelled at them for being awake. That is why I decided to order this tea. Here's to hoping!!
Wednesday, January 25, 2012
Tru dat
The AA meeting I went to last night was one I have never gone to before. I was late (of course) and the only seat open was next to this young kid in a baseball cap with a big diamond stud in his ear, baggy jeans and huge bright white tennies. I assumed he was there to get his probation sheet signed, probably going to be checking his phone for texts the whole time, trying to score his next bag. I am an ass. When it came time for him to talk, I was enraptured. He was so insightful, had so many valid things to say, I just sat there gazing up at him like a little lost puppy dog. Sitting down at this meeting, I didn't think it would do me any good, there was only one other woman and no one I felt like I would relate to. And then this kid opens his mouth and I started to think that God put me in that chair just to hear what he had to say.
I am just as guilty for judging as the woman I was ranting about in my last post. I will never stop being surprised at who admits to being an alcoholic. Thank you gangsta, some of the things you said last night will stay with me for the rest of my life.
I am just as guilty for judging as the woman I was ranting about in my last post. I will never stop being surprised at who admits to being an alcoholic. Thank you gangsta, some of the things you said last night will stay with me for the rest of my life.
Monday, January 23, 2012
i need to go to sleep...
this is another blog that someone posted on facebook...LOVE IT
http://www.huffingtonpost.com/glennon-melton/mommy-wars_b_1210602.html
i have to go to BED
http://www.huffingtonpost.com/glennon-melton/mommy-wars_b_1210602.html
i have to go to BED
lol
This is one of the funniest things I have read...
http://www.huffingtonpost.com/glennon-melton/dont-carpe-diem_b_1206346.html
yessssssss
http://www.huffingtonpost.com/glennon-melton/dont-carpe-diem_b_1206346.html
yessssssss
Super Mom
I am obsessed with looking for other moms like me. I could read blogs all day long (not that my kids would let me do anything for more than fifteen minutes, but I could) about all of the mothers out there who struggle with alcohol. I had no idea so many people blogged, let alone moms trying to get sober. Has it always been like this? Has motherhood always been this hard? The term "mother's little helper" has been around for ages, and although the Rolling Stones are referring to pill popping, the idea is the same. Just google "mothers and alcohol" and you will be assailed with sites. Some of the things I read are very inspiring and hopeful, but once in a while I come across a news article or blog subject that makes me angry. This one is heartbreaking but the attitude that the woman writing the article takes makes me want to find her and slap her. It's titled "How Could a Mother Drive Drunk?"
http://parenting.blogs.nytimes.com/2009/08/05/two-quick-updates-on-motherlod/
How could any human being of sound mind drive drunk? Let me just say this before I say anything else. This is a horrific tragedy, something that should never, ever have happened and I am not defending this driver in any way whatsoever. I am going to assume that she was an alcoholic though. I don't know many social drinkers that are indulging on a Sunday morning before driving their kids around. Does this journalist think that this disease is choosy? Does it pick only people that don't have children or have nothing to lose? This is what I'm talking about when I refer to the humiliation that moms feel, making them terrified to admit they are alcoholic. I can't help but wonder, if this mother would have been encouraged by society to seek help, would things have ended differently? Will any woman, having read this article, feel compelled to shout to the heavens that she needs help? I don't think so. Admitting my problem was the scariest thing I have ever done. I sat through my first meetings with my mouth shut. I was sure that if I told anyone my story, CPS would show up on my doorstep the next day. That is why AA works for me. Nobody judges me and almost every woman I have talked to has a similar story. They say this does not make us horrible mothers, it makes us human. I still have to convince myself of this, because the guilt goes deep. I would give up one of my limbs if it meant that I could quit drinking today and never have a second thought about it, but this is my cross to bear. I wish I could go back and explain to my 21 year old self that her brain is wired differently. That her recreational drinking will turn into necessity drinking - that there is no going back once you've gone too far.
http://parenting.blogs.nytimes.com/2009/08/05/two-quick-updates-on-motherlod/
How could any human being of sound mind drive drunk? Let me just say this before I say anything else. This is a horrific tragedy, something that should never, ever have happened and I am not defending this driver in any way whatsoever. I am going to assume that she was an alcoholic though. I don't know many social drinkers that are indulging on a Sunday morning before driving their kids around. Does this journalist think that this disease is choosy? Does it pick only people that don't have children or have nothing to lose? This is what I'm talking about when I refer to the humiliation that moms feel, making them terrified to admit they are alcoholic. I can't help but wonder, if this mother would have been encouraged by society to seek help, would things have ended differently? Will any woman, having read this article, feel compelled to shout to the heavens that she needs help? I don't think so. Admitting my problem was the scariest thing I have ever done. I sat through my first meetings with my mouth shut. I was sure that if I told anyone my story, CPS would show up on my doorstep the next day. That is why AA works for me. Nobody judges me and almost every woman I have talked to has a similar story. They say this does not make us horrible mothers, it makes us human. I still have to convince myself of this, because the guilt goes deep. I would give up one of my limbs if it meant that I could quit drinking today and never have a second thought about it, but this is my cross to bear. I wish I could go back and explain to my 21 year old self that her brain is wired differently. That her recreational drinking will turn into necessity drinking - that there is no going back once you've gone too far.
So I just want to give a big shout out (woot! woot!) to all of the brave women out there who have decided to say it out loud. "I am an alcoholic - I want to be the best mother I can be, so I am going to get help. I will not let this disease kill me, I will live." And my heart goes out to all of those mommies that are too embarrassed or afraid to come forward - it's not as scary as you think.
A little factoid:
A current study compared 301 alcoholic women, ages 20 to 50, interviewed in 21 different treatment facilities, and a control group of nonalcoholic women matched for age and socioeconomic status of family of origin. A significantly higher percentage of alcoholic women (40.0% vs 8.8%) reported having made suicide attempts, a difference of 31.2 percentage points.
A little factoid:
A current study compared 301 alcoholic women, ages 20 to 50, interviewed in 21 different treatment facilities, and a control group of nonalcoholic women matched for age and socioeconomic status of family of origin. A significantly higher percentage of alcoholic women (40.0% vs 8.8%) reported having made suicide attempts, a difference of 31.2 percentage points.
Spider time-out
I was just in the middle of writing my blog today, but I will have to continue it later. Something really freaky just happened and is preventing me from sitting at my computer desk at the moment. A spider just dangled it's way down onto my keyboard...WHILE I WAS TYPING!!! I will post a better, much more interesting blog later, when I can do it from my computer. Right now I can't think very well because even my hair has goosebumps. It is winter and I'm not a big fan of winter. However, winter gives me a break from having to worry about spiders, so it's at least tolerable. This is horse poop.
"You can turn a cucumber into a pickle, but you can't turn a pickle back into a cucumber."
I hate this saying. I hate it because I'm discovering that I am now a pickle. There are so many studies and fact sheets that point out how dangerous drinking alcohol can be - even more so for women. I can drink as much, if not more, than most men I know. And because I thought it was a good idea to prove this on more than one occasion, I have pickled myself.
I hate this saying. I hate it because I'm discovering that I am now a pickle. There are so many studies and fact sheets that point out how dangerous drinking alcohol can be - even more so for women. I can drink as much, if not more, than most men I know. And because I thought it was a good idea to prove this on more than one occasion, I have pickled myself.
Source
School of Social Work, Department of Psychiatry, University of Michigan, Ann Arbor 48109-1285.Abstract
The current study compares 301 alcoholic women, ages 20 to 50, interviewed in 21 treatment facilities, and a control group of nonalcoholic women matched for age and socioeconomic status of family of origin. A significantly higher percentage of alcoholic women (40.0% vs 8.8%) reported having made suicide attempts, a difference of 31.2 percentage points (95% CI = 23.9, 38.5). Age comparisons within the alcoholic sample show the percentage of younger alcoholic women attempting suicide to be twice as great as the percentage of the alcoholic women suicide attempters in their forties. Such age differences were not found among the nonalcoholic control group. The findings suggest that youthfulness and alcohol/drug abuse are the critical combination for high risk. Awareness of the suicide attempt risk potential is necessary both for emergency room personnel and for substance abuse facility workers.Sunday, January 22, 2012
11 questions
Has anyone taken that little test that determines whether you are an alcoholic or not? I had to take it upon entering treatment. It goes a little something like this:
Have you ever decided to stop drinking for a bit, but only lasted a couple of days?
Do you wish people would mind their own business about your drinking?
Have you ever switched your drink up to control your intake?
Have you ever had an "eye opener" mimosa during the past year?
Do you envy people who can drink without getting into trouble?
Have you had problems connected with your drinking during the past year?
Do you ever drink before an event to "get you started"?
Do you tell yourself you can stop at anytime, but have yet to do so?
Have you missed days of work or school because of drinking?
Have you woken up and not been able to remember some of the night before?
Have you ever drank alone?
Before we go any further I feel I should tell you I can answer a very loud YES to all of the above questions. I'm also an alcoholic. That being said, I feel I know many people who are not problem drinkers that can answer yes to quite a few of these. This is just my opinion of course - anyone in my little AA circle would tell you something quite different. But, back to my opinion. I truly believe that moms need their own test to figure out where they are at in their drinking journey. Moms drink alone. Sometimes that is the only time they drink! They sure as hell can't offer their toddlers a glass of wine. (But if you are, please don't read my blog anymore - thankssssss) My sister has wine and chick flick night every time her husband is out of town! I added the mimosa because it was my morning drink of choice, but any drink will fit the bill here. And not remembering the night before? Come on!! Who hasn't had this happen? There is an entire movie franchise about this! So I have taken the liberty of putting together my own little "Is my mommy an alcoholic?" test for you to take. Some of these questions may make you laugh and some may make you a bit sick, but I can answer a resounding YES to all of these as well. Don't judge.
Does your favorite wine glass also happen to be your favorite coffee mug?
Do you check the sink in the morning to find out what you ate for dinner?
Do you DVR all of your favorite shows because you know you will have to watch them again the next day?
Do you find yourself telling the cashier at your grocer that you "are getting such a good deal you had better stock up" to explain the amount of wine in your cart?
Having told said cashier this, do you have to go to a different grocery store the following week?
Do you find yourself buying wine according to the alcohol content instead of the type?
Have you ever found empty wine bottles in odd places? (Such as the dryer, below the bathroom sink, under a stack of towels, your sock drawer...I think you get the idea.)
Do you have to time your recycling just right to keep the neighbors from seeing the evidence?
Have you run the water in the kitchen sink to disguise the "glug glug" of your wine?
Do random "mystery" packages from amazon/ebay arrive on your doorstep?
Have you told yourself it's very European to drink at lunchtime?
If you can answer yes to one or more of these questions, I think you may have to reevaluate your habits. I am telling you this with the best of intentions - your liver will soon be informing you of it's hatred. My husband has a saying for a hangover: I woke up to find my liver on the couch with his bags packed. Well, my liver actually did this. I'm hoping I can curry favor with the little guy so he will get back to doing his job properly, but we will see - the things I did to him were pretty horrific. All kidding aside, I know how it feels. Moms can't talk to anyone about their problem because they are supposed to be super. If anyone knew, they might take the kids! Men don't have these issues - when they declare they are an alcoholic and get themselves to treatment, they are seen as heros - brave and upstanding. They are putting their family first. When a mom does this, people whisper...are her children safe? Will she burn the house down? (OK, so I don't know if anyone actually whispers that about me, but it's one of those guilty thoughts that keeps me up at night.) But please, take it from someone who is going through it. My kids will never look back and be sorry I got help, but if I keep drinking they will be sorry I was gone before they were ready.
Well, the screams of little mouths tell me it's time to wrap it up, but I hope to see you again soon. And thanks for listening.
Have you ever decided to stop drinking for a bit, but only lasted a couple of days?
Do you wish people would mind their own business about your drinking?
Have you ever switched your drink up to control your intake?
Have you ever had an "eye opener" mimosa during the past year?
Do you envy people who can drink without getting into trouble?
Have you had problems connected with your drinking during the past year?
Do you ever drink before an event to "get you started"?
Do you tell yourself you can stop at anytime, but have yet to do so?
Have you missed days of work or school because of drinking?
Have you woken up and not been able to remember some of the night before?
Have you ever drank alone?
Before we go any further I feel I should tell you I can answer a very loud YES to all of the above questions. I'm also an alcoholic. That being said, I feel I know many people who are not problem drinkers that can answer yes to quite a few of these. This is just my opinion of course - anyone in my little AA circle would tell you something quite different. But, back to my opinion. I truly believe that moms need their own test to figure out where they are at in their drinking journey. Moms drink alone. Sometimes that is the only time they drink! They sure as hell can't offer their toddlers a glass of wine. (But if you are, please don't read my blog anymore - thankssssss) My sister has wine and chick flick night every time her husband is out of town! I added the mimosa because it was my morning drink of choice, but any drink will fit the bill here. And not remembering the night before? Come on!! Who hasn't had this happen? There is an entire movie franchise about this! So I have taken the liberty of putting together my own little "Is my mommy an alcoholic?" test for you to take. Some of these questions may make you laugh and some may make you a bit sick, but I can answer a resounding YES to all of these as well. Don't judge.
Does your favorite wine glass also happen to be your favorite coffee mug?
Do you check the sink in the morning to find out what you ate for dinner?
Do you DVR all of your favorite shows because you know you will have to watch them again the next day?
Do you find yourself telling the cashier at your grocer that you "are getting such a good deal you had better stock up" to explain the amount of wine in your cart?
Having told said cashier this, do you have to go to a different grocery store the following week?
Do you find yourself buying wine according to the alcohol content instead of the type?
Have you ever found empty wine bottles in odd places? (Such as the dryer, below the bathroom sink, under a stack of towels, your sock drawer...I think you get the idea.)
Do you have to time your recycling just right to keep the neighbors from seeing the evidence?
Have you run the water in the kitchen sink to disguise the "glug glug" of your wine?
Do random "mystery" packages from amazon/ebay arrive on your doorstep?
Have you told yourself it's very European to drink at lunchtime?
If you can answer yes to one or more of these questions, I think you may have to reevaluate your habits. I am telling you this with the best of intentions - your liver will soon be informing you of it's hatred. My husband has a saying for a hangover: I woke up to find my liver on the couch with his bags packed. Well, my liver actually did this. I'm hoping I can curry favor with the little guy so he will get back to doing his job properly, but we will see - the things I did to him were pretty horrific. All kidding aside, I know how it feels. Moms can't talk to anyone about their problem because they are supposed to be super. If anyone knew, they might take the kids! Men don't have these issues - when they declare they are an alcoholic and get themselves to treatment, they are seen as heros - brave and upstanding. They are putting their family first. When a mom does this, people whisper...are her children safe? Will she burn the house down? (OK, so I don't know if anyone actually whispers that about me, but it's one of those guilty thoughts that keeps me up at night.) But please, take it from someone who is going through it. My kids will never look back and be sorry I got help, but if I keep drinking they will be sorry I was gone before they were ready.
Well, the screams of little mouths tell me it's time to wrap it up, but I hope to see you again soon. And thanks for listening.
Saturday, January 21, 2012
intro to me
At what specific point did my devil-may-care approach to drinking become
this life or death choice? When did a drink in the morning become
easier than dealing with the excruciating pain that not drinking in the morning seemed to cause? I want to find this day and erase it from my history - blow it up. Why? I want to drink some wine tonight. (and fyi - it's 5 am) You probably assumed that I was going to say something meaningful or incisive? Nope - just wanna drink. But I can't. I cannot take one more drink for the rest of my life. That sentence alone sounds so foreign, so absolutely bizarre, I still can't wrap my pickled brain around it.
I wonder if I should put things in perspective a bit? Let me tell you a story. Just one of many. My husband and I went to an upscale wedding quite a few years ago. At the end of the night we walked outside and my husband left me standing at the front doors to get a cab. When he came back I was curled up on the cement with mayflies blanketing my sleeping body (for those of you unfamiliar with the Great Lakes, picture a moving blanket of dragonfly-esque bugs), the skirt of my dress blowing up over my arse. Add to this: the grooms grandparents staring down at me wondering who I belonged to. It's more than ok if you are laughing because through everything that has happened, we still find this hilarious. But if you are, I have to assume that you have been drunk once or twice in your life. I wouldn't tell that story to anyone who hasn't.
It was suggested to me to start a blog because I don't make it out much. With three kids, from ages one to four years, doing the "ninety meetings in ninety days" is laughable. Believe me, if I could get out of the house for a couple of hours everyday for three months without my kids, I would fake any sort of disease you'd like. I have never blogged, have no idea what I am doing, so please forgive me if I break any of the rules. I probably won't post everyday. Or I may post ten times in one day. I was just told that I should do it so that when I feel like reaching out to someone, I can at any time. And because the need to talk to someone overwhelms me at really odd moments, blogging sounded like a good idea. Besides, if my sisters and my mother have to keep bearing the burden of my weepy bemoaning phone calls, they will most likely start screening me.
I was up until four in the morning a couple of nights ago, my mind full of guilt and fear and heartbreak...and I REALLY REALLY wanted to run up to the grocery store for five mini bottles of wine. Just five. They are 10 for 10 right now, but you don't have to buy 10. And they are plastic instead of glass. They were created for me. These same bottles were glass just three months ago! Do you know how hard it is to sneak twenty tiny glass bottles of Pinto Grigio into a very small house???? Let alone trying to hide them in places where you can grab one quickly without the telltale "clink". And what about when they are all drained - don't even get me started with the lengths I have gone to conceal my empties. They were such a perfect little size, a perfect little gulp, so friggin noisy though. But I digress - getting back to my early morning self pity party. I couldn't stop crying. The absolute terror of losing my kids and estranging my husband is so unbearable when the house is asleep that being able to talk to someone in the wee hours is very compelling. Wine used to be my best friend, but she failed me. Although I can't realistically picture anyone wanting to read this or follow it or however blogging works, in my minds eye, I have a captive audience. Nodding, hugging my head to her breast, whispering "I get it" or "you will get through this" or some other random words of comfort and understanding. So there it is. I am using you. But, dear reader, if you would bear with me I could really use your help.
I wonder if I should put things in perspective a bit? Let me tell you a story. Just one of many. My husband and I went to an upscale wedding quite a few years ago. At the end of the night we walked outside and my husband left me standing at the front doors to get a cab. When he came back I was curled up on the cement with mayflies blanketing my sleeping body (for those of you unfamiliar with the Great Lakes, picture a moving blanket of dragonfly-esque bugs), the skirt of my dress blowing up over my arse. Add to this: the grooms grandparents staring down at me wondering who I belonged to. It's more than ok if you are laughing because through everything that has happened, we still find this hilarious. But if you are, I have to assume that you have been drunk once or twice in your life. I wouldn't tell that story to anyone who hasn't.
It was suggested to me to start a blog because I don't make it out much. With three kids, from ages one to four years, doing the "ninety meetings in ninety days" is laughable. Believe me, if I could get out of the house for a couple of hours everyday for three months without my kids, I would fake any sort of disease you'd like. I have never blogged, have no idea what I am doing, so please forgive me if I break any of the rules. I probably won't post everyday. Or I may post ten times in one day. I was just told that I should do it so that when I feel like reaching out to someone, I can at any time. And because the need to talk to someone overwhelms me at really odd moments, blogging sounded like a good idea. Besides, if my sisters and my mother have to keep bearing the burden of my weepy bemoaning phone calls, they will most likely start screening me.
I was up until four in the morning a couple of nights ago, my mind full of guilt and fear and heartbreak...and I REALLY REALLY wanted to run up to the grocery store for five mini bottles of wine. Just five. They are 10 for 10 right now, but you don't have to buy 10. And they are plastic instead of glass. They were created for me. These same bottles were glass just three months ago! Do you know how hard it is to sneak twenty tiny glass bottles of Pinto Grigio into a very small house???? Let alone trying to hide them in places where you can grab one quickly without the telltale "clink". And what about when they are all drained - don't even get me started with the lengths I have gone to conceal my empties. They were such a perfect little size, a perfect little gulp, so friggin noisy though. But I digress - getting back to my early morning self pity party. I couldn't stop crying. The absolute terror of losing my kids and estranging my husband is so unbearable when the house is asleep that being able to talk to someone in the wee hours is very compelling. Wine used to be my best friend, but she failed me. Although I can't realistically picture anyone wanting to read this or follow it or however blogging works, in my minds eye, I have a captive audience. Nodding, hugging my head to her breast, whispering "I get it" or "you will get through this" or some other random words of comfort and understanding. So there it is. I am using you. But, dear reader, if you would bear with me I could really use your help.
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