Tag Archives: depression

Death.

If you’re not a tarot nerd, this card might alarm you. But when I drew it today I started to laugh. It’s perfect.

This is the whole reason I’m writing here. I am desperately trying to end this cycle of numbing and apathy and laziness; Living in a half -life due to alcohol, depression, self sabotage, and binge eating. I’m trying to turn this ship around.

I can’t do everything all the time and be there for everyone at all of the times and go to all of the things and still do my job, care for my family, get sleep, eat normally, and generally decompress. Decisions have to be made about what is in my best self-interest to continue with. I will be clearer with people who use my tendency to go with the flow to their advantage. I have to shed some things in order to move forward.

The Death card kind of gave me the feeling that the energy of the universe – or whatever you want to call it – has my back.

Mountains.

Have I mentioned that I am a performer? Maybe not. I mostly perform in bars and at (alcohol fueled) events. This weekend’s gig was an overnight. It’s far. So we took advantage of the situation. A bunch of middle aged folks unleashed from having to drive anywhere. Mix in the fact that we’re in gorgeous mountain country. It was a recipe for celebration. We were out until 4am. I slept well and the mountain air did me good. I love it up here. Today I feel relatively gross but not terrible. I’m also pretty sure I smell like a barroom floor which is horrifying.

silhouette of mountains

Photo by Simon Matzinger on Pexels.com

I’m still listening to Claire Pooley’s The Sober Diaries for my long car trip. I’ve also cued up Brene Brown’s Daring Greatly but haven’t started it yet. Pooley’s story (and her honesty about her drinking) resonate deeply with me. She almost makes me believe that I can do it one day. I’ve reached the point in her story where she discusses her diagnosis of breast cancer at 46. Women who drink excessively are way more likely to get it. She also discusses Edith Piaf’s death from alcoholism at 47 from liver cancer. Like… what the fuck am I waiting for here? I’ll be 42 in a few months. I’m honestly terrified to go to the doctor for anything because who knows what is brewing in this cauldron.

Right now I am in famous hippie town having a lovely lunch and drinking a blood orange iced tea that is delicious. Can’t I drink things like that when I’m out (or in)?

I worry about how my relationships would continue. My friends and I have a very deeply rooted drinking culture. Staying out well into the morning hours, drinking bottles over bottles while making a mountain out of an ashtray. These are therapy sessions. Summits on solving the world’s problems.

I’m scared of losing that.

When I try to break down what that would look like… I see more day time hangs. Maybe more like outings – to DO things? A museum, a show, a yoga class? Even if we did dinner, I doubt there will be a shortage of things to talk about.

Truthfully, I’m afraid of who I am without drinking because I don’t know her at all. I’ve been “self-medicating” since I was 24. I don’t know if she has ever even existed.

I DO know that the person who drinks is a loud, rambling chainsmoker who loves to interrupt you and talk about herself. The alcohol free me can’t be any worse than that. I also know that before I drank I was not a talker AT ALL. I was an observer. I would take EVERYTHING in. As an artist, I’m going to guess that will only benefit me.

I think of the extra energy I’ll have. I’ll lose weight. My skin will clear up. I’ll be fucking healthier. I’ll likely keep the majority of my friends. Ugh.

One Healthy Thing

I feel like part of the reason I have not been successful (in getting healthier) in a long time is that a.) I have not been honest about what my real problems are and b.) I try to do too much at once. Historically I have tried to adopt an entirely new personality overnight.

Regarding being honest – I would try to eat salads and go to the gym but then come home and have a half a bottle of wine and smoke half a pack of cigarettes. I don’t even think I saw the disconnect. I see it now. I’m older and the universe is in my ear telling me it’s later than I think. I believe she is trying to say that I am not 25 anymore.

So I’m trying something different. And I’m in this – doing it real time so it might fail or it might work. We’ll see. I am basing this on book’s like Annie Grace’s The Naked Mind and Elizabeth Gilbert’s Big Magic. Grace’s idea about taking small steps whether or not we are ready and Gilbert’s plea to show up and be open to the magic that life gives you.

I’m making a small commitment to do ONE healthy thing for the rest of this week. This is a small, reachable goal. For instance, yesterday I did yoga for the first time in ages. I felt good and am sore today. Today, I am going to take my dog for a nice long walk in the park because it is beautiful out. (He’s doing well at the moment!) I believe that if we allow ourselves to be successful, we are more motivated to continue seeking success.

I’m hoping that doing yoga or taking a walk or going to bed early will inspire me to have a salad instead of French fries at dinner or to watch the wine so I can have a good rest.

Thoughts?

There must be some kind of way out of here…

I need to start writing here as a way of documenting whatever the hell this is… either a path to better health or a slow descent into complete atrophy. Small steps though. I think I am one of those people who thinks that everything will change overnight. I logically know this to not be true but I am still bafflingly disappointed when I haven’t lost 15 lbs after a half hour of exercise or eating a salad.

What is that? Like – why am I like this?

I suppose I’m in this situation because of my need for instant gratification. I am overweight. I drink too much. I smoke cigarettes. I am uncomfortable, always tired, depressed, and full of guilt. It is a pretty tight operation if you think about it. The perfect combination and sequence to keep this thing running strong.

I should probably go back to therapy. But I arrogantly feel like I have been there and done that and I know myself really well. I know what the problems are. I am insightful. I majored in Psychology and Counseling in under- and post-grad. I have a good handle on why I am like this. My problem is finding the will power and discipline to turn it around.

I suppose I’ll go into my history at some point but the nutshell version is that I’ve struggled with depression and anxiety almost my whole life. A chemical thing. I found cigarettes in my teens, alcohol and food in my 20s, and have been treating myself like a spoiled toddler ever since. I have gone through spurts of exercise. I even did CrossFit for a year. I looked great. I felt great. I was NOT into the weird “cultiness” of it though. Yet, I plan my social life around recreational eating and drinking. (Talk about worshipping false idols.)

It’s gotten pretty bad in the past few years. I’m in my 40s now so I’m probably seeing the consequences on my face and body more. I can’t bounce back as quickly so I feel like shit pretty much all the time. I come home late, so I order fries from the diner to eat. I feel like crap in the morning so I grab a giant bagel. (Yes, clearly I’m in NJ.)

I have been a donor to Weight Watchers, Noom, various online eating and exercise plans and here I am gulleting two bags of M&Ms at 1am. Wonder why the scale keeps going up? Also, wine is like 150 calories a glass or something. (More like 200+ with the quantities I pour.) So, if I have 3 glasses of wine in a night… when I’m being conservative… I’m ingesting 450-600 empty ass calories.

Anyway… I am trying so hard to just get off the fucking ground here. I want to be healthier. I want to feel better. I want to have a sense of control back in my life.

So here we go. Again.

I am a failure

I failed. I failed two nights in a row. I fail more than I succeed. I’ve not drank probably a total of maybe 10 days this year. That’s being liberal.

I am in a state today. I am angry and disappointed in myself but that is generally my default. I”m thinking about changing the tone of this blog because I’m just going to keep fucking up. So here is the peregrination of a woman who just slowly destroys herself and drives herself deeper into depression. And she complains about it and on and on it goes. Sounds like a great read.

The past week has sucked. I thought Pup was going to die on Thursday. I was so sure of it that I basically snuggled him and sobbed my goodbyes. Then I had a gig. And remember I wasn’t supposed to drink? Well. Surprise! That didn’t work out.

I am emotionally exhausted. And my job is crazy. I’m studying for a licensing exam and we are going through a merger that I will be a critical part of so my stress level and workload have been compounded with that. And I had a rehearsal and two gigs this week. As well as my art class. I’m burned out. I’m sad.

I’m taking a mental health and self care day tomorrow to mentally prepare for the coming weeks with work. I’ve informed some of my best friends who have really come through with support. I have a good network.

But I still cannot commit to not drinking. I can’t do it.

Half life.

I did not drink at rehearsal last night which is a big thing for me. I did, however go out afterwards to a jam and stayed out too late. It’s a beautiful day and I’m sitting inside feeling grumpy. Thank goodness I can work from home. But this is not sustainable. It has somehow been livable for the past 15 years but being in a constant state of recovery is exhausting.

I’m still listening to Clare Pooley’s The Sober Diaries. I had stopped for a few days. (Imagine that?) It’s incredible how much I identify with this woman. Her experiment was to go 100 days. 100 days. I couldn’t do 3. But I feel like that’s how I have to do it. Maybe start out committing to a full week of no excuses not drinking and seeing how far I can take that? I don’t know.

I’m also very depressed. My dog’s illness is breaking my heart. I am disappointed in myself for failing so hard and so early. I have no energy or motivation. I’ve been eating like a horse. I have my art class tonight, which I usually enjoy but I want to just go to bed. It’s 5pm.