Day 43, 2020

In trying to re-structure my time and make up for all of the cheesecake I’ve eaten over the past 43 days, I purchased two beginner packages to local exercise studios.

I took a “mindful yoga” class on Monday which was really lovely EXCEPT for the guy next to me. I was irritable to begin with. I knew this guy was trouble when I heard him humming loudly in the hallway. He was huffing and puffing and humming and set his mat up TOO CLOSE to mine. I moved over. I had death lasers in my eyes.

Throughout the class, this creature is SNIFFFFFLING on the “breathe ins” and HAAAAAAAAAHHHHHHHHING on the “breathe outs”. Like, picture telling a small child to breathe in and breathe out and having them over exaggerate while shooting snots in every direction. It was like that except it was a sweaty man in his thirties.

NOW… I am married to someone who is on the spectrum and has a tick disorder. I try to be gentle-hearted with people who don’t seem to be able to control atypical behaviors. HOWEVER, I feel strongly that this was just a guy who was used to taking up a lot of space and not taking any other humans into consideration. He had a wedding band. I want to call his wife.

So that happened.

Then last night I went to a barre class. I danced for about 10 years and did some musical theater where dancing was involved afterwards. (This experiment led me to realize I am NOT a musical theater person.) I’ve taken barre classes before and kind of arrogantly enjoyed them. I’ve heard people say they were really hard and I felt pretty smug about the fact that I didn’t think they were tough at all. WELL… the class I took last night put me in my place.

I had to stop. I was sweating like a waterfall. That teacher kicked my ass. And it was good. Initially, I was like “can I just leave”? But I pushed through and was really proud of myself. My body was FUCKING EXHAUSTED afterwards and I climbed into bed at 11pm. I slept like a baboon.

I don’t know how baboons sleep but that image just made me laugh.

So yeah, I’m trying not to be a sedentary chip-vacuum. Tonight, I can try Mindful Yoga again or maybe do an online thing at home. Or go to the regular gym. I have to do one of those things though.

Day 40, 2020

I had my first gig without alcohol on Friday. Also, it was a Battle of the Bands which I swore UP and DOWN that I would NEVER do again but playing in front of new faces and ears is good for us and it’s what we need to be doing right now. The venue had my favorite seltzers which was good but I did feel a bit out of sorts.

I was anxious. Now, we were in a completely new place and playing under pressure so I’m sure I’d have been anxious anyway but doing this without my band-aid was a little rough. BUT I did it. I felt the things. I sequestered myself. I feel like I just walked around in circles for a while. But I got through it and didn’t drink any alcohol. Afterward, we were all freaking exhausted. One of the guys brought beer to bring back but only one was opened and everyone was asleep by 12:30. Rock star life, man.

Bunch of grandmas.

It was nice to not be hungover in another city. We enjoyed a brunch and MAN I wanted a Bloody Mary. I considered asking for a virgin one but that would probably be disgusting. So, I enjoyed my tea and a great egg sandwich. Both places we ate were really on point and I am a little snobby. Way to go, Baltimore. Thank you for being a friend.

Day 33, 2020

I have an old drinking friend from the time I was maybe 19. She makes delicious dinners and we sit at her table and drink and chain smoke and it is gloriously without filter or airs. I’ve been wondering what our friendship would look like if I stopped drinking. I am happy to report that I went to her house for a wonderful dinner with another friend, brought a six pack of Sprite Zero, and had a fantastic time. I went home quite a bit earlier than usual (10pm seems to be when I turn into a pumpkin) but it was a lot of fun. She had no idea that I had quit drinking. I told her Friday. I felt comfortable and relieved. I also was happy to be in my bed by 10:30.

Day 29, 2020

As I’ve mentioned 100 times, I still have trouble waking up in the morning. I honestly think that it’s out of habit in thinking I’m going to feel like shit. I honestly say to myself, “Go ahead and get up. You’re not hungover!”

This morning was a very sweet one. My little guy had a fever last night (his third this freaking month) and he had planted himself beside me in bed to read his Star Wars book. He was so quiet and even gave me one of his stuffed animals. This kid.

So I open my eyes and he is there and my day starts with sweet, enthusiastic kid chatter. It was such a perfect way to start the day. He gave me some Star Wars education while my brain booted up.

These tiny, special moments are so important. I would have definitely missed this if I was hungover. I would have been snoring, mouth agape, and smelly and very cranky. Today, I could be a comfortable place for my son and enjoy this magical little person’s company.

If I ever start again, I need to bookmark this entry. The struggle is worth it.

Day 28, 2020

It’s been a few minutes but I’m still here. Still not drinking. 28 days. I cannot believe it. As I say almost every time… I’ve never even come close to this.

I went out to a bar last week. Cabin Fever has been setting in and some friends were playing a show about a half hour away. This was my first trip to a bar since being alcohol free and it was weird. This particular bar is weird to begin with so that may have added to my vibe. In any case, I survived and am not itching to do it again any time soon.

First of all I felt REALLY self conscious. I just wanted to hide. I have a CVS receipt of physical hangups and I cannot drown them in Pinot Grigio anymore. So I’m feeling really awkward. I found it difficult to hold conversations because my self-consciousness was taking up a lot of space in my brain and I find that I simply don’t have much to say sometimes.

Other peoples’ conversations became more erratic and intense and I wasn’t riding that wave. I went outside to smoke a couple times. And I Irish Goodbyed which is something I was NEVER able to do when drinking because I had to say goodbye to EVERYONE individually. Unless I was in blackout mode. Then I would disappear. Ugh. Is having to say goodbye to everyone another shard of narcissism? Like everyone cares deeply whether you’re there or not. Hahahha.

I’ve learned a bit in the AA meetings I’ve attended and that is that alcholics are fucking selfish. I can’t disagree. This kind of self-centered and self-important behavior is not natural. I mean, I am also a recovering Catholic so there’s probably some residual guilt in ever considering oneself in any situation. Maybe I’m somewhere in the middle. Maybe it doesn’t fucking matter.

I’ve got a lot of shit to do at work this week and I’m trying to focus on that. I’m now being asked whether this “dry January” thing will end on February 1. For me, no. My response is, “I am doing this indefinitely. I need to figure out how to exist without it before I would ever consider doing it again.” I really feel like I’m fine without it. Seriously. If you asked me 3 months ago, I would not have agreed with that statement.

Day 21, 2020

So, a thing happened and I’m not really sure what to do with it, so I’ll write about it here. That’s why I’m doing this, right?

So, last week I had reached out to a woman I had met at AA. She and I had spoken several times, it seems we share some interests, and it felt very easy to interact with her. She raised her hand when the leader asked if anyone was willing to be a temporary sponsor so I decided to drop her a line.

Let me backtrack a moment to say that reaching out to people is NOT one of my strong points. I feel like I’ve mentioned it here. It’s a pretty big part of my personality. I like to help people. I like to think I can do everything by myself. I am independent to a possibly unhealthy degree. There has to be some narcissism behind at least some of it. Anyway, to drive home my point, it took a LOT for me ask if she would talk to me about being a temporary sponsor.

She responded that she was available and suggested we meet up to talk. NOW, (and I’m assuming that this could be the problem), it took a couple of days for me to get back to her. Work was crazy, my son had strep, and I did not make my response a priority.

She asked if I’d be attending the Monday meeting (yesterday) and I told her I would not because I had a scheduled rehearsal. Then she said that she is already working with someone and could give me the names of other women in the program. I felt so REJECTED.

Throughout this process, I’m trying to reconnect and be honest about my feelings and man, I was hurt. Like, I wanted to cry. I got that weird kind of lightheaded feeling and a flash of heat over my heart and the sting in my head. I could not help but wonder what I had done or if she did not like me. She raised her hand to be a temporary sponsor and all of a sudden she was not. It was so hard to ask that question. This felt personal. Also, I am extremely sensitive (also possibly narcissism).

As I’m writing this, it’s clear that she may think I’m just not ready and doesn’t want to waste her time. Or she may NOT like me and that’s none of my business. Maybe life is too crazy for HER. These people aren’t therapists. They are recovering alcoholics like me.

My wounded ego’s response would be that I’ve been steadily attending meetings for 3 weeks and life got a little busy for a week. I was just looking for some guidance.

If I’m also being honest about not making my response to her a priority… I began to feel pressure of commitment. I began to panic about my inevitable failure. I also am not 100% sure if I’m going to remain alcohol free for the rest of my life. Like, this is a thing I’m trying. I didn’t want a person to personally let down. I’m used to letting myself down.

So, long story longer, my desire to return to a meeting this week had decreased. I mean. I am being dramatic. I see that. I’m licking my wounds and we’ll see what happens. 21 days though. 21 days.

Day 19, 2020

First of all, I’m proud of myself. 19 fucking days.

Last night I woke up at 3am with a horrid stomach ache and spent an hour with my head in the toilet. It reminded me of the MANY times I had experienced this over the years because of drinking. I kept flashing back to that feeling. The grindy brain, exhausted body, confused, Jeckyll wondering what Hyde had done and why. Hoping for some relief in vomiting.

Last night’s escapade was of course not driven by alcohol however I suspect it may have been a result of the chips, sour cream and cookies I decided to indulge in around midnight. Soooooo, as stated before, I still have some shit to work through. Why am I eating so much? To fill a void. But why? What is that void? I have several suspicions based on what my life is missing. I do not feel like getting into them now.

Today I logged my only meal. An egg with cheese on toast. And tea. I’m such a fucking Britophile. Does that count if you were raised mainly in that culture? Who knows or cares.

I’m going to do a barre exercise in a bit. It’s literally the least I can do. More later maybe.