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.
Monday, January 30, 2012
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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