Crying Out Now

I Want Things To Change

noreply@blogger.com (One Crafty Mother) — Tue, 21 Feb 2012 17:33:00 +0000

***Submitted by Anonymous

Like so many others, I’m not sure where to begin and I’m not completely sure where my problem with drinking began.

I just know that I have a problem and I want things to change.

Why do I drink?

I’m pretty sure that I drink now because my life it too painful and drinking dims the pain.

However, if I am completely honest with myself, while it may dim one form of the pain, it definitely creates another. A little background on my situation is probably in order.

I am an only parent of twp wonderful children. I use the term ‘only parent’ for a reason. My husband, the love of my life, died very unexpectedly a little over a year ago. He was only 50, myself 45.

Talk about something that rips a hole into the fabric of your very being.

Everything I had expected my life to be, our lives to be, immediately died with him. I probably was well on my way to having a problem with drinking before my husband died. His death, however, definitely accelerated things. My goal is to come home and drink enough wine so that I can pass out into oblivion.

Like so many others, I’m doubtful that many of my friends/family would suspect the extent of my problem. And now, even if they do wonder if I may drink too much, I’m pretty sure they chalk it up to my new found widow status.

I am highly functional.

I own a successful business, take good care of my children, maintain a spotless house… all the trappings of handling things as well as can be expected. Why am I here writing this now? For quite some time, I’ve recognized that as I am an only parent, I need to be a role model for my kids, I need to be present for them, I need to learn how to ‘feel’ once again and that means I need to be sober.

Last night was the proverbial “straw that broke the camel’s back”. My teenage son and I had a confrontation following a get together I had at our house with some of my girlfriends. We consumed a great deal of wine. After everyone left, he looked me in the eye and said, “mom, I want you to stop drinking.”

Wow, he’s told me on occasion that I drink too much, but never that. I’m not one of those that get outwardly drunk. In fact, you’d be hard pressed to find anyone who would say they’ve ever seen me drunk. None of that changes the fact that I do drink too much. So here I am… can I do this? I know that I really want to. But that is this moment.

I know there will come a moment when I really want that glass of wine. I so very wish that I could drink a glass or two and be done. It never stops at 1 or 2. It rarely stops before the bottle is gone. I owe it to my kids to get this right. They have suffered enough already and having an alcoholic for a mother is not acceptable.

Today is day one…. I want things to change.

Sad Songs Say So Much

noreply@blogger.com (One Crafty Mother) — Tue, 07 Feb 2012 23:36:00 +0000

*** Submitted by Jen

I had postpartum depression but at the time it didn’t occur to me.

I’d had twins, sure, it was hard. People carried on saying they didn’t know how I did it and those were great compliments but I had no choice. My two babies was your one baby, nothing amazing about that. I’d cry all the time. I didn’t know what I was doing, didn’t know how to bond, didn’t understand the feelings of protectiveness and love I was supposed to have.

I’d be alone too often and I’d yell and swear and cry and feel total remorse and failure. I shouldn’t be a mom, how did I think I could handle this? To top off an already horrible mental situation, Colin and I began having problems and I was able to add ‘woman’ to my failures. I managed to get through dark days knowing that by 4pm the girls would be napping and I could have a glass of wine. 4pm turned into 3pm then 2pm.

Soon days revolved around when I could drink, when I’d finally be able to feel normal, stop being angry, stop crying, start being a mom. With the veil of drink I could enjoy my girls, shower, tidy the house, make dinner, function. ~ I’m not sure when I stopped drinking like that, probably spring when the sun came out. Fresh air improve my state of mind. The girls thrived outdoors and I’d spend days following a routine. I loved walking while they napped, sun on my skin. I still drank but never during the day. I was a closet drinker, just like I was a closet smoker, never in public where one could be judged.

When fall came I went to work. My mom babysat. Early mornings and routine kept my seasonal ‘disorder’ at bay. It felt awesome being back in the city, my career, with adults. Awesome until the girls weren’t sad to see me go or excited at my arrival, and sobbed when my mom left.

Awesome until I began missing firsts.

I quit after 6 months. It was 2007 when I started my first blog. Drinking wasn’t an issue, still, once in awhile I questioned frequency and amounts. Looking back I believe I turned in an addiction (drinking) for an obsession (building a blog/readership). ~ 2008. Those days were consumed with bad choices and people (some literally bad, some bad for me). There was one drinking episode in the latter part of ’08 that should have been my rock bottom but became a jumping off point when everything collapsed at the start of ’09. ~ 2009.

I started using alcohol to self-medicate. This time I wasn’t dealing with PPD or feelings of failure, I was drinking to drown my fuck ups as a morally bankrupt human being. At times it would start as early as morning. I saw therapists this year and hated them. All I did was cry, sign a $150 cheque, book another. I should have been in AA. ~ Most of 2009 and 2010 is blurry. ~ Because of things I couldn’t handle anymore the girls and I left in 2010.

Over the years I’d threatened to leave but never did because I had no money, no place to go. With my brother travelling and room at my mom’s house I left. It didn’t last long but it was good. I think sometimes both partners need a glimpse of life apart to open their eyes. Especially when you have children. The life you’ve built, the togetherness, the friendship, the family. It makes the bullshit less significant. By the end of 2010 I realized the biggest contributor to my unhappiness was that I was an alcoholic and I found support.

That lasted three weeks before deciding moderation worked better. I found a Buddhism study, practiced meditation and felt a strong sense of being grounded, centered and clear going into 2011. ~ Things were amazing last year. Best ever. We moved into a beautiful new space with a backyard and pool and a sense of community – everything I dreamed for my family.

Then out of the blue I crumbled.

The girls went to school, I struggled to find my identity, my doctor ordered me to lose 20lbs, my friends felt far away, I struggled with comparing myself to the wealthy women who live in this neighbourhood. I tried to get back into my career so we could keep up with the Joneses and all I got were rejections.

For someone who’d had a meaningful career and salary it was a huge slap in the face.

This led to anxiety, insomnia, depression and heavier drinking. ~ I know drinking sucks life from me. It takes me away from mothering, home, relationships, health.

I have a choice and I’ve exercised it whenever my mind has skirted the edges. I’m aware. It is simple: do or don’t. I have a history of alcoholic drinking but I’m not powerless over it. I drink responsibly. I abstain. I drink socially. I do all of the above.

The complicated part is that from time to time I make the decision to float around the numb place at the bottom of a bottle. Lonely and alone in a pool of worthlessness and failure, sadness and hurt, hate and rejection. The fog, it’s strangely comforting like a sad song that takes you back, helps you remember, makes you cry.

I guess that’s why every so often I question what it all means. Having that place, it’s not normal.

I understand and appreciate what it means to be powerless, but I can’t say it. Nor can I say I have a hereditary disease thanks to alcoholic genes. It’s too easy to play a victim card, say circumstance happened and I’m the fucked up result.

Drinking is my choice and choice is power.

I make the decision of whether it will suck away my quality of life, health, happiness and future.

Me. I’m in control here.

Most of the time I forget that

~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~

A quick note from Ellie: I apologize for the longer and longer gaps between posts. I am currently fighting cancer (and my prognosis is really good - but this last home stretch of chemo and radiation are proving to be physically and mentally very challenging. I apologize if you have submitted something and it has fallen through the cracks - PLEASE re-submit it. I'm hoping that in a month or two I'll be back on track. Please keep sending submissions, too, because I WILL get them up - it may just take a little longer. Thank you.

33 Years of Drinking

noreply@blogger.com (One Crafty Mother) — Thu, 26 Jan 2012 17:08:00 +0000

***Submitted by Anonymous

33 Years…..

Thirty three years—that’s how long I have been drinking to escape from my feelings. I never drank for fun. I never drank to be more social. I had a problem from the first glass of wine. I drank to escape obsessive compulsive disorder, extreme social anxiety, low self esteem, perfectionism, guilt, and on and on and on. I never sought help for this drinking; I just let the voices in my head beat me up, panic about my health, and then beat me up some more.

During this time, I was able to function in the real world quite well. I got several advanced degrees; found a wonderful job where, despite my opinion of my work, they love me; divorced the wrong husband and found the right one; contributed to the raising of two absolutely wonderful young women; and found a wonderful spiritual home.

Of course, the whole time I was living two separate lives—the fake one where I did what real people do with their lives and the real one where I worried, obsessed, beat myself up, and drank. Both of these lives were miserable. This is the point where you think I’m going to tell you that I quit drinking and my life is wonderful now…..well sort of.

I first sought help for the psychiatric disorders. I received medication and finally found a really good psychiatrist that I can work with. But of course, I never told him about the drinking. I never told anyone (but my husband…sort of) that I was drinking and that I was worried about it. I didn’t tell my doctor; I didn’t tell my priest; I didn’t tell my best friends. No one even seemed to notice or worry about it. No one ever said a word to me about my drinking. Because of the medications, I became less obsessive and less anxious but I was still living two miserable lives because of the secret drinking and I had the added worry of drinking with the medications. What was I doing to myself!

Sixty days ago today, I decided to stop drinking. I was tired of two lives. I was tired of the guilt and worry. I didn’t go to AA, I didn’t go to rehab. I read myself through the sixty days. I have read every book by a recovering addict I could get my hands on. I have a read a few books about how to quit drinking but I did not like them as much. I have also read every blog I could find. I found that reading these stories helped me understand that I was not alone, I was not unique, and that sobriety was possible. I also prayed. I asked Christ to let my sobriety bring me closer to him.

In that sixty days, I have seen some wonderful, wonderful changes in my life. I feel like my two worlds are slowly coming together because I do not have quite as much to hide in my public world. It is nice to go to work and not have to hide a hangover. It is nice to not have to hide my drinking in private or public. It is nice to not have to worry about how much there is to drink, getting enough, not seeming drunk. It is also really wonderful to have a clean kitchen at night, be able to read a book at night, and wake up feeling okay in the mornings.

So, my life is wonderful now and that is the end of the story….wrong. What I now realize is that my really hard work is just beginning.

You see, I don’t want to drink again. I don’t want to live two lives any more. I want one life where I really live all the time. In order to do that I began seeing a therapist last week and I finally told the truth. I had seen therapists before about the obsessive-compulsive disorder, about my divorce, about my anxiety, but never about the drinking.

So I finally told the truth. It was hard and after I left that session I was extremely anxious. The cat was out of the bag. I had asked for help with the thing that was the center of my hidden life. I was not sure that I could go back. Maybe I would just cancel our next appointment and keep working on this on my own. Maybe I didn’t need to bring drinking into my public life.

I called the therapist and told her about my anxiety after our first meeting. She was very kind. She encouraged me to come one more time and talk with her about what we could do to make the session tolerable for me. So, once again I told the truth. As my second appointment approached, I was not sure I was comfortable with all this truth.

We met today. I told the truth.

At the end of the session she asked me what would happen if my secret became public. I could not answer that. I do not know what I am so afraid of. But, I am not as anxious after this session. I have made another appointment. So, tonight as I soberly cook dinner, watch TV, read, and interact with my family, I feel hopeful that it will be possible to live a life with no secrets and in which I am fully and comfortably present.

I am grateful for this forum to tell my story and ask for your prayers and positive thoughts.

Feet On The Path

noreply@blogger.com (One Crafty Mother) — Tue, 17 Jan 2012 01:23:00 +0000

***Submitted by Lynne

So I've been attending AA meetings for like three months now.

I've been going... and then picking up pretty much every night.

In the last two weeks, I've felt a change. I want to have what they have. I hear their stories, and I see myself. I'm used to drinking every day. Last week, I made it for three days before the weekend... then I screwed it up. Then last was my last drink... I made it until today. And now I picked up again. I'm a single mother of three.... and I'm proud to say I am actually doing a good job, considering I have a problem. I have triggers. I have to get past my triggers. Routine is obviously important to me. To the point where I've created triggers. I've had to change how I get home from work. What I do when I get home. Etc. Tonight was a routine I haven't had to do in a while, and I've failed the challenge. (taking my son to meet his father)

I meet these wonderful ladies in AA, and I've got their numbers. I'm going to call them this weekend. I realize I need to actually reach out and trust. I'm used to just dealing on my own and isolating. Isolating really works for me - like all alcoholics. It allows me to shut the world out and fuck up. Then I don't have to face anyone... but eventually have to face myself... There is where the problem starts. I realize through AA that isolating is not a good thing.

I used to think I was strong. I used to think I could handle this "issue." Obviously, I'm not able to. I don't have many girlfriends. This is a foreign thing to me.

Asking for help. Asking for help from fellow women... beautiful women, actually. I feel honored to be in this group. I am lucky, and God is trying to tell me something. Isn't there a song about that? hahahaha.... sigh... I am feeling happy and scared about the fact that I now feel humbled.

I've never been a religious person. But I do feel the presence of something greater than me, giving me love and hope.... and the most patience. I know I'm going to get there. And I'm building the bridges I need to in order to do it. So I was sober since last Sunday, but screwed up tonight.

I know I need to make the call to my people in AA.... but I'm struggling to make the call when I need to. I need to make these calls at the right times... Before I screw up. They are there to help me. I'm just scared and embarrassed to make the calls. I don't even know why. I know that if I call them, they will feel honored that I trust them in their sobriety to help me.

But I'm in a place of so much shame. So much fear. Wow..... I have issues :)

I'm happy that I'm on my journey... knowing it's going to be a long one.

But my feet are on the path, and I know it will be the most important journey of my life.

Since Lynne first submitted this post, she has also sent me this update: I've been sober now for 16 days. I've found a sponsor through the AA group I've been attending, and I'm feeling very good about myself and the journey I'm on. One day at a time, right? But I made it through Christmas and New Year's with sobriety for the first time in a long time. A long, long time :) I'm learning I can face life and some of the stressful stuff without having to dive into the bottle. I don't want to abuse myself any longer when I'm faced with the tough stuff. I used to think it helped me cope, but I always feel worse about myself for having done that to my spirit. I also liked to use it to reward myself... for having worked hard that day, or accomplished stuff at home, or did a good job as a Mom. But my reward now is having had a wonderful sleep and getting up in the morning feeling refreshed and not having a puffy face with bags around my eyes :) Like they say, the rewards of being sober is simply that - feeling good and healthy, rather than hungover and sick.

From Your Friend

noreply@blogger.com (One Crafty Mother) — Tue, 10 Jan 2012 20:12:00 +0000

***Submitted by Anonymous

I love you.

I always will.

We have been friends since high school and I want us to be friends for the rest of our lives. And I want the rest of our lives to be healthy and happy and long.

I’m worried about you. I don’t say anything because I don’t want to wreck our friendship and I don’t know how you’d react. But when you can’t remember the funny things we talked about on a Friday night because you drank too much, it makes me sad.

I want to be able to make memories with you, and not lose them to a blackout. When you have to review the pictures in your phone to see what we did over the weekend, I worry about you. And I worry more when it doesn’t seem to worry you. Or your husband. Or your mother. Or our other friends.

When you finally come out with me one town over, you can’t drink as much since you have farther to drive home. So far, you’ve made an excuse each time about why you have to leave early. At first I thought you were uncomfortable in a new place, then I realized you were uncomfortable not being able to drink as much as you want.

It’s hard to be friends with someone who has to have everything on their terms, which always involve drinking. When you called and asked me to pick you up those times before we went out, you said it was because your night vision wasn’t good, and the brakes in your car were bad. It took me some time to realize that you just wanted a designated driver so you could drink more.

When you finally left the bar that one night after you did those things, the men I always thought of as heavy drinkers were talking about your excessive drinking and accompanying behavior. They said to me “it’s nice that you have all your faculties about you.” It made me sad that that was something to be complimented. And I wished that we could spend time together where you did not have to leave in a crumpled heap with people giving each other the nervous, sad smile as you stumble out behind your husband.

I don’t know what to do.

I don’t know how to have an intervention. Do people even have those?

I just love you.

And want a long happy healthy friendship with you. But it’s becoming more and more difficult.

I love you. And I will love you if you stop drinking.

And I will still hang out with you outside of the bar and without wine and do fun things with you if you stop drinking.

We all still will.

Love,

Your friend.

Just Starting Out

noreply@blogger.com (One Crafty Mother) — Wed, 04 Jan 2012 15:06:00 +0000

***Submitted by Anonymous

This is my first contribution—my first tell all.

I am a mother of 3, great kids. I don’t think I am an alcoholic because I don’t always need a drink.

It’s just when I start I don’t stop, I’ll drink until all the booze in the house is gone and then beg my BF to get me more. I’ll drink beer, wine and vodka…I don’t care what I mix it with.I’ve spent the last 2 weeks blacking out every night.

But I get up in the morning feeling like sh*t and go to work. They love me at work, I do my job and I do it well.I don’t drink during the day, don’t even want one. Most mornings I swear off alcohol totally. Today I am 2 days w/o a drink..and don’t plan on drinking for a while, plus there is none in the house.

New Year is coming up this weekend. I plan on being the designated driver. My BF drinks, he is a beer drinker…the 2 of us are a fine pair. He doesn’t black out like I do, as he is not on meds like I am. He’s had 3 DUI, and is currently in the court system dealing with his latest one. He may lose his license for 3 years—ugh.

I read all these blogs, I commend everyone. I read it every day—it is my therapy. Everyone seems to have an excuse as to why they are or have become an alcoholic…I can’t answer that question. I don’t have to drink—I chose too. I just cant stop.

If I drink after a 3rd---the stoppers are out. There are times I have control to stop—there are times I don’t. My parents are not alcoholics, but my dad has had some issues with it. My sister is definitely one, my little sister is not.

I don’t know where to begin. I’ve looked into AA meetings in my area—but I am scared. Not to being judged but to be told I will never be able to drink again. I ask myself if that is that big of a deal—I cant even answer that. But I hate how I feel the next day, I hate how I don’t remember the evenings.

I hate how it is when I am drunk it is the only time we have sex. I hate the weight gain. Guess I gotta find the good part about not drinking—that I will wake up with out swollen eyes, swollen fingers, memory loss, the looks from my kids, that I can go outside and run a few miles (I used to run marathons and be a gym rat), That I will save the $12 a day (a bottle a night). Our restaurant bill will be less than $100 b/c there will not be the 4 glasses of wine at $8 apiece.

I know there is a better side---I am not ready to give it all up---but I may just have to…What do you all think???

Holiday Survival Guide

noreply@blogger.com (One Crafty Mother) — Thu, 22 Dec 2011 17:30:00 +0000

*** This is a repost of the "Thanksgiving Survival Guide" we posted last year - it applies to any holiday, so we thought we'd rename it and post it again, as we cruise into the thick of the holiday season.

Holidays can be difficult for sober people, or people struggling to get or stay sober.

Now is a good time to prepare.

We thought we'd share some tips. You can not only survive the holidays, you can enjoy them. All you need to do is plan ahead. Please add your own in the comments below; this is by no means a comprehensive list:

Think ahead. Is it hard for you to be around alcohol? Be honest with yourself. Now is not a time for heroics. Keep your expectations realistic: if it is going to be too difficult, maybe this year is a time to do something different this year. Don't set yourself up to fail. You can spend a quiet time at home watching movies or hanging out with other friends, volunteer at a shelter serving food, or go to a meeting instead.

Holidays are usually about family. If there are people in your family who trigger you, be ready. You don't have to go to every fight you're invited to .. plan what you'll say or do if someone gives you a hard time.

Have safe people to call - program their numbers into your phone in advance, and tell them you're going to call if things get tough. If everyone around you is drinking and it starts to bring you down, talking to someone else who is sober helps you remember that you are NOT alone.

Bring your own beverages. This is especially important if you're going to be around people who don't know you're sober. If you always have a drink in your hand, people won't hand you alcohol or ask if you want something to drink.

You don't have to over explain. If someone is pressuring you to drink, be ready with an answer. A white lie is totally acceptable - tell people you're on antibiotics, or you're watching your calories and so you aren't drinking.

Have an escape plan. If you can, bring your own car. Plan to go for a post-turkey walk - fresh air and exercise will get your endorphins flowing and help tamp down cravings.

Plan your exit in advance. If everyone is going to settle in and drink and you don't want to be part of it ... don't. Tell whoever is hosting that you have to leave at a certain time so you don't get drawn in to staying longer than you want to.

Remember to be proud of yourself - shame and guilt are huge triggers. Give yourself credit for staying strong.

Think about the next morning, when you'll wake up hangover-free and rested. Think about how horribly you felt the morning after drinking, and how sober you don't wake up and think, "I wish I drank last night."

Think through the drink. If you start romancing how nice "one drink" would be, remember how many times you told yourself you were only going to have one and failed. Having one is harder than having none, because once alcohol is in your system the obsession comes alive.

Remind yourself the holidays don't last forever, and each holiday is a simple 24 hours, just like any other day. Don't put more importance on this day over any other.

Go to bed. If the day is harder than you expected, go to bed early just to put the day to rest. Tomorrow is a new day.

Believe in yourself. Getting sober and staying sober takes serious guts - you are brave and strong and true. If guilt, shame and remorse start talking to you, remind yourself that it's your disease sneaking in the back door. Let your sober voice ring loud and proud in your head.

Forgive yourself for wanting to drink. Don't expect that you won't be hit with a craving; it's natural. Prepare for how you're going to handle the craving instead of berating yourself for having one.

Be grateful. Make a gratitude list and carry it with you. Try to focus on the gifts you have in your life, all the possibilities that lie in front of you, instead of all the things you can't have. Sober, you can do anything.

Please add more thoughts and ideas in the comments; we want to hear from you. Addiction thrives in the dark, and together we bring the light.

You are not alone.

Beyond My Wildest Dreams

noreply@blogger.com (One Crafty Mother) — Sun, 18 Dec 2011 22:22:00 +0000

***Submitted by Anonymous

I'm a stay at home mom who drank like it was my job. I was so resentful at motherhood and all the sacrifices that came with it. I knew my children were gifts and blessings,but yet all I wanted was mommy time....Mommy's wine time.

I was the mom with the cleanest house, laundry always put away, not a dish in the sink....you could eat off my floor. I always made sure I was put together and appeared to look good on the outside but inside I was so empty and lost. I found comfort in what started off as an innocent glass or two of wine to unwind as I was making dinner for my family.I thought I deserve it.....I'm home all day with my children, no outlet to socialize with other adults so I DESERVE this glass.

Well that glass or two turned into a magnum of wine a night, and the time of day I poured the first glass got earlier and earlier. This didn't happen overnight. The progression took a couple of years before hit spiraled so out of control that it was pure chaos.

I was hiding magnums all over the house so that my husband couldn't keep track of how much was missing out of the bottle in the fridge. I was putting my wine in to-go coffee mugs to take my kids to the park. I couldn't bring them to a sports practice without having it on the sidelines. My marriage was falling apart because of my drinking.

By the time by husband got home from work I was nearly in a blackout yelling and screaming because I was home all day with the kids, filled with rage and resentment. Each time the fight happened I would swear off drinking for that night...."I'm taking the night off" is what I would tell myself and my husband. Somehow by midday the following day I would wind up right back in the same place with my magnum of wine.

The insanity was that I really believed things would be different this time. I will control it tonight - I won't start any fights. The pattern was never any different and always had the same outcome.I had an abusive relationship with alcohol- It was so painful, each encounter had a devastating effect, yet I would still go back for more each night seeking comfort in the bottle.

In august 2010 the fighting with my husband got so bad that he left. I knew I didn't want my marriage to end and was desperate for help.

I never wanted to admit defeat, admitting I was an alcoholic meant I could never drink again-this petrified me. How will i get through the day. How will I socialize? I was desperate to save my marriage so I went away to a rehab for 21 days. This is where the seed for AA was planted.

When leaving rehab I started to go to AA meetings. I started to see the light. The stories of other men and woman who have gone before me were such an inspiration. I started to feel like there was hope - light at the end of my dark miserable tunnel. I would keep coming back because that's what I was told.

I didn't leave rehab and get it right away. It took a few slips and slides before I had to completely surrender to the fact that I was and I am an alcoholic. I am now 10 months sober and can't believe the growth that has happened in my life. It is a miracle that I have not picked up a drink in 10 months-I attribute this miracle to God working in my life.....sometimes directly and sometimes through the fellowship of AA.

People in the rooms of AA have transformed and touch my life in ways that cant be described. I have a sense of peace and serenity within my life now that I never thought possible. My family dynamic has taken on new meaning-I am a sober mom today who is present for my children. I am an honest and trustworthy wife who can be held accountable. These are all miracles that are now present in my every day life...and it's all because I put down the drink and started working the program of alcoholics anonymous.

My life now truly is beyond my wildest dreams!

Time Changes Everything

noreply@blogger.com (One Crafty Mother) — Fri, 09 Dec 2011 14:54:00 +0000

*** Submitted by Julie, who blogs over at Sober Julie Doing Life

20 Days, that’s all I had

20 days of able body and mind sobriety

20 days of facing my disease and the low-level of my emotional state

20 days to feel frightened, irritable, angry, intrigued and hopeful by the changes which are sobriety

20 days of learning how to live in the same consciousness as my emotions

20 days where I went from “no I’m not an alcoholic” to “Dear God help me, I’m an alcoholic”

20 days to talk openly with my husband about my fears and hopes

20 days to play with my 2 daughters, going tobogganing and hiking in the snow

20 days to begin get to know God again

20 days to walk into 12 Step meeting rooms and learn to open my mind and heart

20 days to truly laugh with my daughters and family about nothing at all

20 quiet mornings with coffees and 12 Step reading

20 pain-free mornings to rush out the door to the career I loved

20 days of quietly reconnecting with my husband

20 evenings alone with my daughters while my husband was at work, evenings filled with gymnastics giggles and tickles

20 days and nights to begin to build my foundation of faith and renew my relationship with God

20 days to begin to change my life

And then….

40 seconds changed my life

40 seconds of icy roads; an out of control SUV in front of me; an impact I cannot remember

40 seconds took away my physical ability to lift and cuddle my daughters; to play with them in the manner I used to; to tie their shoes; to bend over and smell tie their shoes

40 seconds erased my short-term memory; days, minutes and seconds forever gone as soon as they happen

40 seconds stole my husband’s capable, high energy, successful wife

40 seconds robbed me of my career which I had worked tirelessly to achieve

40 seconds altered my life as I knew it, I was no longer self-sufficient, social, free nor active

40 seconds of time has left me with me pain which I would never have imagined

40 seconds in a lifetime changed my children’s Mother in ways they cannot understand

40 seconds altered my path which I had carefully begun to lay out

And since…..

620 days have passed since the accident

620 days I’ve remained sober

620 days of pain, exhaustion, anxiety, loss, challenges beyond my realm of understanding

620 days of learning

620 days of being grateful to God and growing our relationship

620 days of seeing the world in this new, appreciative light

620 days of therapy, assessments, exhaustion and medications

620 days I have turned my will and my life over to God

620 days of watching my daughters grow, laugh and learn

620 days of finding ways to keep memories, blogging, taking photos and journaling

620 days of admiring my amazingly supportive husband

620 days of friendship

620 days of accepting the unknown; realizing that God is in control

620 days of putting myself out here, loud and proud of who and what I’ve become

620 days of prayer

620 days, that’s what I’ve had since those 40 seconds and those 20 days.

Any man can fight the battles of just one day.

This is my sober life thus far, I’m so blessed to have had this much time!

What are you doing with your time?

Are you focusing upon what’s important?

On The Fourth Step and Lying

noreply@blogger.com (One Crafty Mother) — Tue, 06 Dec 2011 14:14:00 +0000

*** Submitted by Guinevere, who blogs at Guinevere Gets Sober

Went to my noon meeting at the university yesterday. Topic: Fourth Step.

It occurred to me during the meeting that the fourth step is about Naming Shit. We name the people, institutions and philosophies that have made us resentful, some of them for our entire lives. We name the reasons.

So why are people so scared of Step 4? You might think it would be a huge pleasure to get all that shit down on paper.Step 4 asks us not just to name shit but to name true shit. It’s the beginning of overturning rocks and looking at lies.

I won’t tell you a bald-faced lie (I never could tell a bald-faced lie without cutting my eyes or fidgeting) and say the fourth step never scared me. Three years ago when I started this grand, epic, terrifying journey called sobriety, I was a bit nervous to name all that shit.

If you’re looking for something to help you get started naming shit, I recommend the poet Adrienne Rich’s essay, “Women and Honor: Some Notes on Lying” (1975), from her collection On Lies, Secrets, and Silence. In re-reading it recently I was struck by how many of her statements apply to what we do in recovery—peel back layers of self-delusion and manipulation to look at truths. To create community based on radical truth-telling.

Here are some passages that always touch me: "An honorable human relationship—that is, one in which two people have the right to use the word “love”—is a process, delicate, violent, often terrifying to both persons involved, a process of refining the truths they can tell each other.“ It is important to do this because it breaks down human self-delusion and isolation.“It is important to do this because in so doing we do justice to our own complexity.“It is important to do this because we can count on so few people to go that hard way with us.”

Also this, about confronting fear:“The liar may resist confrontation, denying that she lied. Or she may use other language: forgetfulness, privacy, the protection of someone else. … She does not say, I was afraid, since this would open the question of other ways of handling her fear. It would open the question of what is actually feared. She may say, I didn’t want to cause pain. What she really did not want is to have to deal with the other’s pain. The lie is a short-cut through another’s personality. … Why do we feel slightly crazy when we realize we have been lied to in a relationship? … When we discover that someone we trusted can be trusted no longer, it forces us to reexamine the universe, to question the whole instinct and concept of trust.”

So lies go three ways: others lie to us, we lie to others, and we lie to ourselves.

I was raised on lies and deceptions. Many people raised in alcoholic families say it was the alcoholic who lied and created chaos all the time. In my family, my alcoholic dad was the comparatively sane and much kinder one. It was my mother, the daughter of a violent drunken dad and a pathologically manipulative mother, who told outright lies in our family. Her rhetoric could seem fine, but the screwed-up lies came out in her behavior and in her body.

The rhetoric: I remember, after watching Nixon resign on TV (I was 9), enduring repeated kitchen-table lectures about “Where Lies Get You.” “When you lie,” my mother said, waving her cigarette and blowing smoke into our faces, “pretty soon you can’t tell the difference between your lies and the truth. You always end up lying to yourself.” Words to live by.

Now fast-forward 25 years, my mother is dying of lung cancer, having convinced herself there was no “real” evidence linking cancer with smoking. She has ostensibly quit when she was diagnosed five years before. And Daddy comes to us in tears. “I have something to tell you guys,” he says. I’m thinking, What? Did you cheat on her, did you quit the church, are you yourself dying?—these are the worst things I can think of. I have only ever three times before in my life seen my six-foot-two Dad cry: when his oldest sister died before he could say goodbye; when he disowned me when I was 23 (by this time he had reversed that ruling, which he’d issued by proxy anyway, at the behest of my mother); and when he first held my newborn son. The sight shook me to my core.

“What, Dad?”

“Your mother has been smoking all this time.”

My sister and I looked at each other.“Pfff!” she said. “Dad, take it easy. We knew that.”

But he hadn’t known. For five years, he’d believed her when she told him she was no longer smoking. Talk about point-blank lying. And if my sister and I knew, there is no way he couldn’t have come across some evidence. He lied to himself about it, to protect her from his poor opinion, and to protect himself from disappointment. And the previous generations had ignored each other’s deceit.

This is the way addiction—unrecovered addiction—works. It was then I decided I could never tell him about all her other lies. And he died in 2007 not knowing about them.

Breaking Point?

noreply@blogger.com (One Crafty Mother) — Tue, 29 Nov 2011 16:16:00 +0000

***Submitted by Anonymous

Well, I thought yesterday was my breaking point.

My mom came over as I was hungover on the couch. My husband had taken our two youngest children to the grocery store and my oldest was upstairs watching her shows in her room.. My mom came in and once again begged me to quit drinking. I hate when she does that and yet she has once again done this in front of my daughter.

Once again, like usual, she cut me down to size. "you could be so beautiful", what the hell is that? I'd never say those words to my children, my children are beautiful in my eyes no matter what! I yelled at her and told her that this was not the time and she doesn't need to do this in front of my daughter and once again she insisted that my children are well aware of my addiction. Yes, she is right, but God, I don't want to hear it.

My children are 12, 9 and 6 and yes I was well aware of addiction at their ages so why should they be oblivious to it, right? I just wasn't ready for it. I was completely hung over from the night before and certainly did not need my mom bombarding me and my also alcoholic husband. Yes, we are fully functioning alcoholics, both holding jobs, maintaining a household and three kids. Wait, did I say fully functioning? That's wrong...did I mention how many choir concerts or parent teacher conferences I've missed because I was too buzzed to go or was working on my buzz and didn't want to stop? This is so incredibly painful for me.

I don't want to embarrass my children and I surely don't want them to experience my childhood. Yes, my parents were busy...busy working or sleeping because they worked, blah, blah.. still they were not there for me as a parent should be. I am here. I help with homework, I give baths and most importantly, I give hugs and kisses and let them know that they are loved, this is something I didn't have.

My parents were busy, I know that. They worked to make ends meet. I also know that it doesn't take but 2 seconds to give a hug and a smile to let someone know that they are loved, I never had this. It was clean this and pick up that or you'll get your ass beat. This is not how a child should grow up. So, no... I don't beat my kids for not cleaning their rooms and yes, I am an alcoholic. This pains me terribly. I don't want them to be embarrassed. I don't want them to grow up like I did. I just don't know how else to be.

I grew up with parents that either were too busy or too drunk to notice, I don't want that for them. I need help and I want help, I just don't know where to get it without being judged. Right now, as I sit here and type this... I've tucked in my children, done the laundry, helped with homework, cleaned my kitchen and sat through an awful traffic jam which took me two and half hours to get home...I do have a buzz. I've not had a bite to eat all day, because according to my mother, it wouldn't hurt me to lose some weight.

My pain is deep. My addiction is a disease and hereditary. I want to end this cycle. I want to speak with others that have this disease and I want to help and be helped....

Thank you so much for listening/reading.

77 Days

noreply@blogger.com (One Crafty Mother) — Wed, 23 Nov 2011 16:32:00 +0000

***Submitted by Linda

I'm sitting on my sofa with a pillow behind my back because I am in agony. I have chronic lower back pain and probably will have to have surgery in the not so distant future. Had this been 77 days ago (I've been sober for that long), I would have had a bottle of wine by my side to kill the pain. Today, however, I am thankful for the pain because it reminds me that I am alive and that I can feel it. I have felt real pain, anxiety and humiliation for 77 days and it's quite sobering (pun intended).

Sitting here, not being able to do the things I want and need to do has given me time to reflect on the past. Almost everything bad that ever happened to me in the past was alcohol related. EVERY argument I ever had with my husband was when I was drinking. That's 13 years of alcohol induced fighting! I can't get that time back! I can only ask for forgiveness and try to forgive myself for all the problems I have caused.

Did I really expect the people I have hurt to forgive me when I explained that I am an alcoholic and I wasn't myself when I did those awful things? Why, yes I did! And I was in shock when they said, "thanks, but no thanks and good luck." If I wasn't committed to my sobriety, I would say to myself "well...you might as well drink; no one cares about you:" All I can do is maintain my sobriety and live a clean life. Maybe, eventually, they will come around. And if they don't, I will have to accept it.

Let me tell you a little about my disease and how it progressed. I started drinking when I was 6 years old. Yes, you read it right, 6 years old. I remember it vividly. We were at a friend's home celebrating Passover. One of the guests kept giving me wine and I drank it. I remember the floor spinning under my feet and not understanding what was happening. Well, it didn't stop there!

My parents had a huge vodka bottle with a pump in the pantry. I used to lay down and pump the vodka in my mouth. I continued to drink on occasion through my teen years. It really became a problem when I joined the Army and was stationed in Germany. Best beer ever! My mother came to visit me once and said she had never seen anyone drink so much! You would think that would give me pause, but it didn't. I took it as a compliment.

Fast forward to the present: Beer was my drink of choice, but it just wasn't getting it done for me. I started having wine after my 4 or 5 beers. I would take a glass up to bed and when my husband fell asleep, I would sneak downstairs for a refill. Sometimes 3 or 4 refills. I would run the water so that he couldn't hear the wine being poured...or so I thought. The other day he told me that he knew what I was doing, but didn't want to start a fight.

Now, as I sit here, I am thankful for my sobriety and the life I have now. I used to think that I couldn't have fun without alcohol. Well, folks, let me tell you, the last few years were anything but fun. Even the pain I am having now is much better than the pain alcohol caused me.

This past fourth of July was the turning point for me. A joyous holiday weekend was marred by one drunken argument after another. It was then that my husband and I decided that I needed some help. I went to my first AA meeting.

To the person reading this and questioning whether or not she is an alcoholic, let me remind you of the old adage: if you have to ask yourself if you are an alcoholic, you probably are. Talk to someone you trust and/or go to a recovery meeting.

When you are sober, you will see things much more clearly and happiness will be within reach!

Something In Me Broke

noreply@blogger.com (One Crafty Mother) — Thu, 17 Nov 2011 19:50:00 +0000

***Submitted by Anonymous

Cry...Cry...Cry...that’s what I have been doing for the last 26 hours.

My eyes are so swollen that when I look in the mirror I do not look like the same person. The immense sadness and guilt I feel as a Wife, Mother, and person is overwhelming. I made it to my second AA meeting this morning and although it’s hard to see the light at the end of the tunnel, I am at least seeing that I don’t have to be afraid to connect with people and let them see the ugly part of me. Although I haven’t spoken out in a meeting (not there yet) I know my time is coming to tell my story and it scares me to death! I thought I’d start here because I don’t have to look anyone in the eye...yet.

Looking back I’ve always had an addictive personality. I’m a perfectionist in every sense of the word.

My house is always put together, I work a full time job (never late to work), and in my Master’s program with a 3.9 GPA. I have a wonderfully supportive Husband and two daughters who love me unconditionally. We own our house, own a business that is flourishing...so why do I get drunk everyday? On the outside, my life looks perfect.

No one who knows me would even guess that I’m an alcoholic, except my Husband, because I don’t let people that close to me. I show them only what I want them to see. I’ve lived this lie for so long that I’ve lost myself. Who am I really? I don’t know yet, but I want to get back to the person who could feel joy and laughter on any given day.

Nine months ago was the beginning of the end on my downward spiral to my rock bottom. I drove with my kids in the car drunk after a bottle of wine. My oldest freaked out when she noticed I had to cover one eye just to make the double vision go away. You would think that would be enough...but it wasn’t. My Husband told me I needed to talk to someone so I called a therapist. Saw her a few times and worked on some childhood issues but didn’t really dig into the drinking part of it.

I decided Pinot would have to go away because I couldn’t control it. I did great for a while because I substituted with my Husband’s vodka. I drank gin, vodka, and occasionally rum. I made all kinds of fun drinks only to get drunk and not remember the next morning. I would drank until I peed the bed on a fairly consistent basis. I would try to hide it, but I knew he knew...he had to yet he didn’t say anything. I was washing bed sheets 2 and 3 times a week. I was disgusted with myself. The hate and self-loathing every single morning and the promises not to drink that night only faded by the afternoon when I poured a drink. I found myself dancing with Pinot again last month and although I drank mostly vodka, if I bought a magnum of Pinot I could easily drink 1/2 to 3/4 of in a night only for the ugly cycle to start all over again.

Yesterday I woke up in urine after drinking 3/4 magnum of Pinot. Listening to my Husband get my 7 yr old ready for school, I was too afraid to get of out of bed because I didn’t want to be found out. My brain was hazy and I was trying to remember if I did or said anything mean to my Husband or kids. After the house was empty I did what I always did...wash the sheets.

Something in me broke.

I couldn’t stop crying. I got on this website and soaked up the words like sun rays...I had to get help because I couldn’t do it alone...not anymore. I called my Husband and he went with me to my first AA meeting. I cried the entire time, the guilt and embarrassment were overwhelming, but to my surprise I felt relief for this first time in years! I need to be here. I’ll die if I continue this life path. I need help.

As I rubbed my silver chip last night, I did not drink. I poured ole Pinot down the drain and poured myself into this website looking for more connections. I would have never found this website if it weren’t for Redbook last month. That article opened my eyes and connected with me on so many different levels. I felt like a hamster on a wheel to nowhere totally stressed (and still feel that way) but I know I’m on the path I need to be in order to be present for my family and myself.

Admitting It For The First Time

noreply@blogger.com (One Crafty Mother) — Fri, 11 Nov 2011 14:04:00 +0000

***Submitted by Cathy

My name is Cathy and I'm an alcoholic

This is my very first time 'saying' those words. This is still one of my best kept secrets (or so I think). There are maybe one or two people that know about my drinking problem, but I don't know if they realize the severity of it or the danger that I pose to my children on a daily basis when I pass out from drinking.

If I am being honest, I am on day two of no alcohol. I drank myself into oblivion on Saturday night. I do not remember how I fell asleep. I do remember being woken up by my 16 month old son, who wanted to his morning boobie fix (I am still night time nursing).

As I mentioned earlier, my drinking is still pretty tightly secured. My older son (7), does realize that I drink every night, but I think he likes the drunk me better (so do I!). The drunk mommy is silly and plays loud music and dances around with him and falls down!! The drunk mommy pays more attention to him and listens to him and plays more with him. The sober mommy is mean or sad all the time, distracted and irritable and has virtually no patience for him or his younger brother. The sober mommy is quiet - too quiet. The sober mommy carries along so much guilt that she easily begins to rationalize why it may even be better for her to be drunk mommy again!! She certainly seems like a much better mommy!! She's fun and her kids are laughing and playing and dancing with her!!!!

I don't remember when my casual glass of wine at night turned into my daily need to finish an entire bottle before passing out. I cannot pinpoint at which time in my life, life just got too hard to handle. I can't seem to recall where one glass too many should've been my signal to stop. I do know that I almost always drank to get drunk. I do know that my daily drinking is a problem and I do know that if I don't do something now to stop it, something terrible WILL happen to me or my children. I do know that I need help. I'm embarrassed, I'm ashamed, I feel like a failure.

I'm hoping that this writing will be cathartic and will provide a sense of self-therapy for me, at least until I feel strong enough to say those words to a live human.

One Day At A Time - Brenda's Story

noreply@blogger.com (One Crafty Mother) — Tue, 08 Nov 2011 19:48:00 +0000

***Submitted by Brenda

Hello, my name is Brenda and I’m an alcoholic.

This is how I introduce myself at A A meetings. I never thought in a million years I would be going to A A meetings.

I am 49 years old. I have been drinking for 39 of those years. I entered an inpatient rehab center in March.

The 21 days in rehab were eye opening to say the least. My in date was April 30th and my out date was May 21st. I was in there with 17 other people. I could write a book or a comedy act on the experience! I am, as of today, 4 months and a few days sober! I am alcoholic and I just cannot drink.

This is a disease. Alcoholism affects all walks of life. This disease comes with a lot of shame. If I had breast cancer there would be a pill or treatment but there is not shame attached to that disease.

In rehab, there at the same time as me, there where were university professors, attorneys, young and old. The youngest was 18 and the oldest was 82, I felt like one of the lucky ones, if there is such a thing. A lot of the people did not have a choice to come. They were court ordered because of DUI or other things. There were people addicted to alcohol; all kinds of drugs like cocaine, heroin and a lot were prescriptions. There were young mothers addicted to drugs that had had their children taken away. There were people that this was their first time in rehab, and there were some this was their fourth time.

Addictions are hard to overcome. I learned that you have to be HOW (honest, open and willing) to change. I drink because I am HALT (hungry, angry, lonely or tired), and RID (restless, irritable and discontented). I found out that I am not alone! All the people that I met at rehab and at AA meetings have the same stories and experiences. The 12 steps are based upon looking to a higher power to help when I am feeling these things.

The first step is admitting that I have a problem. I know that I can’t and shouldn’t drink. I know that I am powerless over alcohol and that my life has become unmanageable. I need to go to AA meetings, examine my faults, give up all my offences to God and find a person to tell all of my deepest secrets. It is not an easy journey, it will take work! I have always believed in a higher power, which is God to me. I need to learn to pray and accept what life is for me and be happy with what I have. I have been blessed with a loving husband and son, a beautiful home and a lot of other things. None of those things mattered when I was drinking.

I may have seemed happy on the outside, but I have been very unhappy and very insecure. A lot of addicts are that way. I need to find out how to give up all my worries to a higher power. If I look back on my life, I know I have had a problem with alcohol all my life.

My first drink was when I was 10 years old. I remember a summer that we went to visit relatives, can’t remember all the details, but there was moonshine. I drank it and got drunk. I know that having that experience turned on something in my body that craves alcohol. I am not happy with one beer or drink. I want to drink to get drunk. I was always with an excuse as to why I was drinking. I had a list of excuses to drink. I learned that they are excuses. God has given me so many chances. He has been looking over me for all my life! It is hard for others that aren’t addicted to understand. My husband would say, “Just stop drinking!” I tried, but could not on my own. The last few weeks before I went to rehab I was drinking all the time, sometimes all day. I never want to go back to that again. I know that if I take that first drink I will be right back into it all over again.

So far so good, but it is a daily battle. One day at a time!

Peri's Story

noreply@blogger.com (One Crafty Mother) — Thu, 03 Nov 2011 19:05:00 +0000

***Submitted by Peri

I'm Peri and I'm an alcoholic. I had a drink today.

I was coming up on 7 months of sobriety after being in the program since the Summer of 2010. Three more days and it would have been 7 months. 7 months is a LONG damn time for a chick like me. I lost myself or never found myself and then drank to find myself. Really, I drank to drown parts of myself. I have been setting myself up for a relapse for some time. Even before picking up my 6 month chip.

I was a heavy drinker over a few different periods in my life. Teens, age 21 and 23-24. Maybe another time or two. BUT, I could always put alcohol down. UNTIL.......... That's the question I always try to answer, when did I become unable to put down a drink? My sponsor tells me it does not matter WHEN. I still try to retrace it though... for my own obsessive mind. When did a drink become a necessity for me? Not until my late 30's. I am now 40. My oldest child graduated from High School 4 yrs ago. My youngest child was living with his father at that time. The year of 2007 I began to get my drink ON. I felt like my 'mom' identity was gone. I drank because I could. It was fun. I was more social and able to be around people. Happy hour after work or drinks on the weekend with the girls.

Eventually, I became a person who preferred to drink alone. I would not have to worry about what I said, what I did, who I called or sent a text message to and so on when I blacked out. Because a black out was inevitable. At the end of my drinking I drank until I blacked out and / or passed out. I tried that 'controlled drinking' I was always right back to square 1. I think I set myself up to fail. Or I really am an alcoholic.

I have worked the steps at this stage. I continue to work the steps in my daily life. Okay, to the best of my ability. I know I'm not effing perfect. To bad, huh? LOL Anyway, wonderful tools. I hear it often shared in a meeting these tools would help those who are not just in recovery. So true, so true. I believe did a complete and thorough 4th step. I did my 5th step with my sponsor. Wow! I was feeling so free for awhile there. The pink cloud they tell me. I still have more amends to make. I know that's normal. Making amends takes time. Different people and circumstances, etc. I do 10, 11 and 12 most days. I guess I worked my program okay until today when I have forgotten or feel I have beaten step 1.

I find myself depressed more times than not lately. I find my life unmanageable at this time. More so than when I was drinking. I am job searching. How effing fun is that? NOT! Odds are I won't be working in the field that I prefer. And honestly, right now, that is a-okay. I just want to be working again. I want to be able to create a schedule. It's odd my alcoholic brain tells me that life was more manageable when I was drinking. I'm currently in isolation mode. And as sick as this will sound I am supposed to chair a meeting today.

Wow...WTH?

Beer Belly Up

noreply@blogger.com (One Crafty Mother) — Mon, 24 Oct 2011 14:29:00 +0000

***Submitted by Anonymous

A note from Ellie: Anonymous submitted her original post about a month ago, and since that time she has sent the following update: I'm no longer drinking. I was at the grocery store with my children. I picked up a 12 pack of Sam Adams and put it in the cart. My daughter started pleading with me. "Please, Mommy,, I don't want you to be sick." I was so sick that I made it to the check out with the beer. She asked again, "Please, Mommy, put the beer back." I very nicely refused until... Her lip started quivering. I could tell that she was trying not to cry. I put the beer back and haven't had a drop since.

~~~
I chose the title for this post because not only do I have a beer belly, which looks ridiculous since the rest of me is thin, but I do feel like I have gone belly up as the expression goes. I am a practicing alcoholic and mother of two.

There is an art to this. I can't buy hard liquor even though it would be more economical than beer or wine, because if I have alcohol in the house I'll drink it from the moment I wake up. I usually buy a twelve pack of cheap beer.

I drink two in the morning to ease my hangover then wait to buy more until just before the kid's bus arrives. As soon as I have gotten the kids off the bus I start drinking beer from a travel mug with a lid pretending that it's coffee. Another way that I try to prevent people from knowing what I am doing to myself is to never buy beer in my hometown and to alternate between three stores in surrounding towns, always buying something else along with the beer, like a soda, so the cashier won't know that I plan to start drinking shortly.

I spend most of my social time with my ex husband because he accepts my drinking, though he didn't when we were married. He makes quite a bit of money, and I have a small income. My checking account is currently overdrawn. I knowingly took money out from the ATM when I had none because I am physically addicted to beer and had no other means of obtaining it. I often rely on my ex husband and mother to provide me with groceries for the kids because I spend most of my expendable income on beer.

I've been to rehab several times. I've tried AA. I always return to my best friend and worst enemy... alcohol. I'm hoping that talking about it will help.
Thanks for listening.

A Mother Tells Her Story

noreply@blogger.com (One Crafty Mother) — Tue, 18 Oct 2011 18:50:00 +0000

***Submitted by Anonymous

I guess I'm like every other contributor, not sure how to start. Not sure where to go. The semi-beginning??

It is way past when I should be in bed and yet, I sit here, wanting a drink. It's one of the first nights in the last week that I haven't succumbed. What makes that even more shocking is that I have a 3 month old baby girl. I buy those test strips that tell you when the milk is okay to give them or not. Because some nights, nay most nights, I just don't control it, it controls me.

I was a good kid. Very athletic. I did athletics for part of my college career, and that kept me in check. Then I quit athletics. I told myself "I have to live the party dream, that's college, right?" Still did well in school, but I drank 3 nights a week and skiied the other 4. Then real life hit. I was supposed to be up every day for a job and fully ready to perform every task asked of me in a most timely fashion. I did not like this adjustment. And I didn't like the career path I'd chosen to boot.

Enter the drifter phase. You meet a lot of like minded drifters in this phase. Everyone who thought my use of alcohol was "normal" or mentioned my use in a non-agressive way. And my boyfriend at the time (now husband), mentioned it, but never fully criticized. He'd put it in the context of his own alcohol use (his use is absolutely normal and unabusive by true standards), but he'd say "WE should drink less", or "WE should only have 2 a night". When clearly he was quite capable of doing those things and I was not. So I started to hide liquor. If he didn't know I drank it, it didn't count in the "drink tally" for the night...

Anyway, we married and opted for children. Before our first was born I would drink so heavily that I'd drive to the gym in the morning and work out so minimally only to be retching in the shower. I would think to myself "at least it worked off some of the alcohol smell." I would hide alcohol and just drink anything available, straight from the bottle. It didn't matter, I was going to "get my buzz on".

Then our first was born... I credit her with saving my life. If I'd continued with those behaviors, I'd easily have lost my job by now and my husband. I didn't even think about drinking when I was pregnant with her. The thought didn't even cross my mind!! But sadly I found a way to eke alcohol back into my life without effecting her. Or so I thought. Until you wake up for the first time and say "wow, she slept HOW long??" But you secretly wonder to yourself if you just "slept" through it in an alcohol induced blackout again.

Then we were pregnant with our second 6 months later. We semi-planned it. I wanted them that close together. But as it turns out, my body actually attacks my poor babies when I'm pregnant. It sees them as foreign bodies and just goes to town. But we didn't know this until our second was born. And this time, my body exacted a rather awful punisment. My son should have been born 4-6 weeks early, when he stopped growing. But they didn't catch this growth restriction and it wasn't until a serendipetous morning near 40 weeks that we went in for monitoring that we found out he had stopped growing long ago. Absolutely no fault of alcohol, I am so very lucky to say. But he had brain damage. He has Cerebral Palsy and we deal with that every day. I think if I knew alcohol had contributed in any way I'd have already gone insane and been committed.

But wouldn't you know, it laid itself out in such a way that I was able to return to drinking even sooner. He couldn't breastfeed and I could pump at "optimal intervals" to allow myself the drinks. So I started drinking a lot sooner than I would have otherwise. And he was SO bad at sleeping. No more than 45 minutes at a time for the whole first year!!! If you got more than that, it was a total fluke and you'd say, "did I pass out and not realize?? Was it the alcohol??" And this time, there was no second child looming on the horizon to temper my drinking enthusiasm. Any time he would allow us sleep I wondered if I was sleeping too soundly from the prior alcohol use.

Fast forward to 13 months, he's diagnosed with Cerebral Palsy. My heart knew it, but now it sinks, it is official. And worse? Now I have another "real reason" to drink. People "understand". It's like a license. And so I do. Every night. I still hold a job, but I have to say, I'm just exceptional at it. I can hide my hangovers and slow reaction by good work and getting it done right the first time. Even that makes me feel a little guilty!! I'm not being arrogant, I swear. I would rather be held accountable. Then maybe I could finally figure out a way to make it all stop.

This persists for 3 years. We manage. I drink too much, my husband tries to get me to stop, I back off just long enough to do it again later. He videos me in drunken stupors, trying to show me the next day what I look like. I actually threw up on my son's wall one night, evidence enough that I should stop!!!! I DROVE 1 mile one night in a complete blackout. Sure, only 1 mile at 11pm, but in a blackout, I could have killed or hurt someone. WHY would I ever let that happen??? That is NOT ME!! I have alcohol hidden in the house. I drink a little wine, then go have the hidden stash. That way I can blame the smell and drunken state on the supposed amount he's seen me drink. Yeah, that'll fool him (yeah right).

One night, two glasses (and some hidden shots), three minutes of unprotected sex... and we are pregnant. We weren't supposed to be. I am not sure I can handle going another year without drinking. I am so engrained now! But I do. It's really even not that hard. Why is it so hard when it's NOT for a child???? Why can't it just be this easy to quit or restrain ALL the time?????? Seriously, I find this out, I'm no longer an alcoholic.

She's beautiful, born without the same complications as my son. But our son had surgery 2 weeks after she was born. We have to do the surgery then: for insurance reasons, for timing reasons, it just has to happen. So he's in the hospital for 6 weeks, she's less than 3 weeks old, I'm already at a friend's drinking one night. It's a "stress reliever", I can pump and dump (she can't breastfeed well either... why my small children can't seem to I don't know!!). Anyway, it starts so soon. I can feed all day, pump the extra and drink from 8-9pm, feed pumped milk overnight and then not pump until 6am. I check with those strips to be sure. Really?? Those are meant for occasional use, not every morning...

And that's where I am now. A 5yo bloody genius, 4yo still in the throes of recovering from his major rehabilitative surgery, and a 3 month old. Back to work full time. And taking that glass of wine at 8:30pm while I do my last pump. Then going to my hiding spot and supplementing my addiction with vodka shots and swigs. I don't do it until the older 2 are in bed. I don't want them exposed to what I saw as a child: wanton abandon and disrespect for the other people you are living with, much less yourself. But come on, they're going to realize sooner or later. Once, while my son was in the hospital, my oldest told me: "Mom, your breath stinks like fingernail polish". Oh dear God, really??? Not even 8 weeks old and I'm back in "the pattern". I am pathetic.

And so the cycle goes. I get up at 5am, do what needs to be done with kids or work or home or whatever is on the agenda for the day. Then I come home, bound and determined to make it a "good" night. But the kids go down, I am done pumping, and the wine beckons me. The vodka screams my name. WHY?? I don't know. It was a good day, I love my kids, I love my husband, nothing went tremendously wrong, but it is that time. The time I get my drink on. WHY?? If I could answer that question I could stop. But I can't. And come morning, I get up, feeling a little groggier than necessary, and do it again. And the whole day I rack my brain, WHY?? Why do I do it. Not tonight I say. Not tonight. Tonight I get a good night's sleep, I try to nurse the baby instead of pump (with no success, but at least I am still trying), I try to stay away from the drinks. But by the time it's quiet, I have a glass of wine in my hand. And that is the license to go have a swig off the hidden vodka bottle. I just tried to capitalize Vodka there. Seriously?? That's the influence it has on me??? Alcohol is not worthy of personal distinction, yet I try to capitalize it, that is just another symptom of my systemic issue!!!!!!! I don't LIKE the feeling of being drunk, so why do I keep doing it?? I know I'm "functional". That doesn't make it alright and it doesn't make me want to continue this way. I want to stop. I want it to go away and be done. I want to be able to say out loud, "I am an alcoholic and I don't drink anymore". And I want that to be okay. I want to not think about drinking ALL the time. I just want to be able to let it go. Someday, I will be able to let this ALL go.

Wow, I've never EVER told that to anyone. I am still quite nervous at the people I know that might read it and say, hey, that's HER. But you know what, if they're reading this, they have a reason to need this story. And I hope it does them some good, and maybe we'll be closer after they tell me they read it. I don't know. I don't care at this point. It just needs to be said, for me. Not for anyone else but me. I NEED HELP. I wish I knew how to get it or how I could get myself from being this way. I want this for myself, my family and my friends. I want to break the cycle and let these kids just grow up being kid!!!

I wanted to read this in the morning and be sure it's what I "want" to say. But I know if I do that I won't send it. So, please forgive any grammar or spelling issues. It is just pure "spill the guts". My love and heart to anyone dealing with this as well

I'm Nearly Ready

noreply@blogger.com (One Crafty Mother) — Thu, 13 Oct 2011 19:36:00 +0000

***Submitted by Jessica

I've joked for years about being an "alcoholic", usually the day after a crazy night of drinking. I've being drinking for more than 20 years now, I remember my first time I was 12, sipping the vodka from under the kitchen sink at my Dad's house and putting water in so he wouldn't know. Then things progressed to weekend binges, I was 14. It was fun we'd have or go to parties were we'd smoke pot and drink so much we'd puke (that wasn't fun). I kept this hidden from my family for years until I was old enough to legaly drink. From that point on at just about every family get together I was wasted!

In 2006 we bought a house an hour away from all family and friends. Over time my drinking got progressively worse. There were many days my husband would come home at 4 pm and I'd already be drunk. I was working part-time at a local grocery store and on the days I wasn't working I was drinking. Ha, who am I kidding I would drink before I went to work, there was even a few times I had to call out because one of the kids was "sick"~code for I got to drunk to go in. There were even a few times I got a call from the school to pick up a sick kid and I had to brush & gargle and hope they didn't smell the beer on my breath.

It was about a year or so ago when I realized I had a "real" problem. I told my husband I couldn't do this anymore I need to quit. That never lasted more than a day. One things sets me off and well "I've had a rough day" and I need a drink.

I have driven under the influence on many occasions, yes I have done it with my children in the car. It's almost shocking I have not gotten a DUI. Most recently we had hurricane Irene roll through and to prepare I stocked up on batteries, water, candles, a liter of Bacardi, 2 bottles of Diet Coke and a case of Bud. I started drinking at 9:30 am and ran out of Diet Coke before noon so I sent my ever so faithful hubby out for more....in the middle of a f~ing hurricane! Not more than 5 min after he pulled in our driveway a tree fell in the road, if he had been any later it would have landed on him. But hey, I got my Diet Coke!

I've recently started seeing a therapist to come to terms with my problem. I know I need to stop but I'm scared. I'm scared that I won't be fun anymore, I'm scared to live a "sober" life, how will I "relax & unwind"? What about all those awkward social events, how will I "fit in"?

I'm nearly ready, I have been slowly weaning myself. I know that probably sounds silly but I tried to go cold turkey and it was NOT pretty. I'm not sure if this is the right way but it's all I can do for now.

I went to an AA meeting a few weeks back. I sat in the parking lot watching all the people, I waited til they all went in hoping to seek in. Well I didn't know what room the meeting was in so I had to ask the girl at the front desk, I couldn't say "alcoholic or AA" for that mater so I simply asked were the 6:30 meeting was? Of course she called me out wanting to know which meeting I was referring to~bitch! So I had to say it out loud. When I found the room I passed the floor a dozen times almost going in, finally I went in. Well there was NO sneaking in the back row. The group all sat around at tables set in a giant square, talk about awkward (I was wishing the hole time I had a few beers before hand so I would feel so out of place). I sat through the hole meeting harding looking up in fear of making eye contact, listening to random people talk and tell their stories of what lead them there. Their were bits in me in each of there stories. I have yet to go back but may soon as I come to grips with the fact I AM an alcoholic and I NEED help.

FYI~I opened my new issue of Redbook and when I came across the article about Mommies and alcoholic I thought oh my god it's a sign but I hurried uo and out in my bag to read when I got home because I could dare let anyone at work see me read it. When I finally did read it and found this Blog I knew, I just knew, I was not alone.

Living Sober

noreply@blogger.com (One Crafty Mother) — Tue, 11 Oct 2011 19:58:00 +0000

***Submitted by Shannon

I’m grateful for this website because I never want to forget what life used to be like. Like I ever really could… I still have moments when I run through those old painful reels in my head and it feels like yesterday. This may sound weird, but that is a blessing in its own way. It helps to keep me sober because I never want to go back.

What was life like? I started as a social drinker… quickly turned into a binge drinker… and then drinking became a necessity to get me through the day. The shame, guilt and the inability to look at myself in the mirror kept me drinking because I just wanted the pain to go away. I was drinking 1+ bottles of wine per day. I was great at hiding my drinking and my pain. From the outside, I looked fine. I had a college education, I had a great job, I had a handsome husband who loved me, and I had a house. But on the inside I was a horrid mess of a person.

I grew up in an alcoholic home. I was driving a car by the age of 14 because someone had to run the errands. I knew what a terrible thing alcohol was because it robbed me of my mother and my childhood. So why did I even start? I started because at first it was fun, it numbed the pain, and it made me social. But the fun soon stopped. I continued because this is disease. I drank heavily for about 11 years.

I had my last drink on May 2, 1997. I woke up the next morning after another horrible night of blackout drinking. As I attempted to look at myself in the mirror I cried. I finally realized that I had become the one person I promised myself that I would never be… I had become my mother. With that realization I knew that I’d never allow myself to have the family I dreamed of because I wasn’t going to put my future children through the same painful childhood that I had. That was my bottom.

What is life like sober? Once the fog cleared and I did the hard worked through the steps of recovery and healing, I could finally look at myself in the mirror and not feel shame or guilt. Then I had an epiphany. I was finally present! I was present for my own life and I was there to experience everything! It’s kind of like relearning how to walk. I had experienced everything for so long while being medicated with alcohol that I had to get past the fear and just FEEL it – feel the happiness, joy, love, loss, pain, sorrow, gratitude, kindness – I get to feel it and experience ALL of it… and it is wonderful! The happy times, like the birth of my daughter and the adoption of my other daughter, are truly filled with unbridled emotions because there is no sense of shame hiding beneath the layers. The sad times, like the loss of a loved one, are ultimately much easier for me to handle because I get to work through the grieving process and come out the other side as opposed to numbing myself and never fully recovering from the loss.

Going to parties is great because I know for certain that I’m not going to make an a** of myself. If I go out for “drinks” with the girls, I order my cranberry and tonic. No one really cares what I do or don’t drink (… and those that do notice are probably the ones that throw away the cork as soon as they open their wine bottle at home, too.)

What do I like the most about sobriety? I like the fact that I’m proud of myself and who I am as a person, as a wife and especially as a mother. My children have never seen me drink and I love that.

My mother never did get sober. She passed away two years after the birth of my daughter, her first grandchild, at the age of 58. The death certificate listed “failure to thrive” as the main cause of death. A few years earlier she had beaten breast cancer by having a double mastectomy. The irony was that she was willing to cut off parts of her body to save her life, but she was never willing to put down the bottle to do the same. That is definition of utter powerlessness.

The disease of alcohol is cruel, but it can be put into remission. Even at 14 years sober I still consider myself “in recovery” as opposed to “recovered”. I know that if I took a drink today I’d be right back where I left off 14 years ago. I will never let myself forget where I have been, but I now live for today!

Living life on life’s terms and loving it!

Today Is The Day

noreply@blogger.com (One Crafty Mother) — Wed, 05 Oct 2011 21:26:00 +0000

***Submitted by Momto7

You don’t know me. You just think you do.

We wave to each other as we wait in the “car rider” line at school. You don’t know my McDonald’s cup has vodka mixed with the Diet Coke. You stop me in the grocery store to ask my advice on choosing a teacher. You don’t know that I’ve been drinking since ten this morning. You ask me to volunteer to help with a project. I write it down immediately. You say “That’s how you stay organized with so many kids!” I know I must write it down because I may not remember.

I don’t even remember going to bed last night.

I do remember why I started drinking. I was trying to relax, enjoy myself, stop stressing so much. Then one drink leads to another…and I do relax a bit and even laugh…until I’m on my third or fourth drink of the night, then I turn mean. I yell at my children, I pick fights with my husband. After last night’s fight, I decided (again) that I have to stop. But this time I mean it. When he threatens to leave and take my baby, I know I’m over the line.

So this morning, I dropped one son off at football practice, then drove to the store. I took the empty vodka bottle and a half full bottle, disguised by a grocery bag, and threw them in the trash. Returned home to deliver my other two children to school.

I drink because I have seven children, a demanding job, and an unemployed husband.

I’m stopping the drinking because I have seven children and a husband.

Today is the day.

I Thought I Was Going to Lose My Friends

noreply@blogger.com (One Crafty Mother) — Sun, 02 Oct 2011 10:27:00 +0000

*** Submitted by Elizabeth

When I knew it was really, really, REALLY time to quit drinking, I was afraid to do so. I was afraid of it for many reasons, but what really comes to mind was my fear that I was going to lose my friends.

I had a lot of friends. I may have been able to count up to 100 or more friends. I had collected them over the years and I maintained them on one level or another. In fact, if I had to draw you a visual diagram, I would say there was Tier 1, Tier 2 and Tier 3.

In Tier 1, I had my more casual friends. I saw them at parties or out at bars and we gave each other big hellos, maybe a kiss or a big hug, we engaged in small talk and bought each other drinks. When I had a few drinks in me, I loved to see them because they were part of my enormous network of friends.

In Tier 2, I had closer relationships with these people. We would talk sometimes or frequently on the phone, email regularly or sometimes. Many of them were at my wedding and some of them I reluctantly had to cross of the list of guests because there were too many people on it.

In Tier 3, these were my closest compadres. They were all at my wedding and we had gone through time together, lived through many laughs, tears, accomplishments, losses, milestones, fights and reconciliations. Some I met in college, some I met in grade school. We rented beaches houses in the summer or traveled across the country or moved to another coast together.

They were all my friends and I wanted to keep them all!

The thought of quitting drinking meant no more bars and parties, no more of my buddies in Tier 1!

The thought of not drinking meant I was no longer going to feel chatty enough to pick up the phone after a long day and touch base with friends. I mean, who on earth wants to talk on the phone without a huge goblet of red wine? Bye-bye Tier 2!

And how would I tell my bestest friends in the whole world, my sisters from other misters who I had laughed, cried and boozed with for decades? I was the lovable, drunk buffoon, the party-start, the Dorothy Parker of the Our Round Table! I just couldn’t.

I delayed and putzed around and dragged my feet until I just couldn’t stand myself anymore. Then I decided there was a few important events I needed to attend and I needed to attend them WASTED. The list kept growing and I kept pushing my quit date farther and farther out.

Finally, enough was enough and I had to quit. I decided I was not going to broad-side my peeps with the news. I was going to release the information very slowly. I came up with all the cliché reasons: “I am trying to lose weight,” “I’m on medication,” “I’m taking some time off because, but DON’T PANIC! I will be drinking again!” I rehearsed these lines in my head all day long because this was really, really big. A lot of peoples’ lives were going to be affected.

In the end, it was no big whoop. Looking back over the last two years since I quit, I have learned a lot about myself and the people around me:

My Tier 3 friends are all in my life today and they are proud of me because I took the steps to change my life for the better and, frankly, some of them were a little worried about me! Did I know this? No.
There are people all around me that do not notice I am not drinking and still offer me something from the bar. And I thought they were going to feel so uncomfortable that they were drinking when I was not. Uh, no.
I don’t like to talk on the phone after a long day and wine was the only way I was going to pick up that ringing phone or dial that number.
I don’t need 100 friends. And besides, many of those “friends” were really more like acquaintances or parallel drinking buddies. If I saw them coming down the street in daylight when I was sober, I’d have probably ducked into an alley to avoid having to get through a conversation with him/her.
A lot of my friends in Tier 2 were in Tier 2 for a reason: I really didn’t enjoy their company that much or relate to them or trust them with personal information. I didn’t know the real them and they didn’t know the real me. So when many of them fell away after I stopped drinking, it was because we had a very superficial relationship. I may have kicked any one of them to the curb had they stopped drinking while I continued. I would have thought they were smug or judgemental. In reality, I would’ve felt shame and insecurity around them.

As I have recovered, I have lost much of the neediness I had for so many years. I needed to have a lot of friends, I needed to feel adored or admired or, well, needed.

Cultivating and keeping friendships that don’t hum on their own is work. It takes energy and, for me, it took a lot of booze to keep up. I am not a naturally energetic person. I am a mellow, observant, reserved person.
The real me wants a certain amount of time to be alone and regroup.

I have met amazing people in recovery who inspire me and give my life a new layer of peace, wisdom and knowledge. I feel like my life has slowed down to a pace where I can actually stop and smell the roses instead of frantically planning my next event where I can smother myself in alcohol and people.

If you are afraid of losing your friends when you stop drinking, try to remember that your real friends will never abandon you because you are doing something to help yourself.

Anyone who walks away is in your Tier 1 or Tier 2 and you won’t need them anymore where you are going.

Dancin' Fool

noreply@blogger.com (One Crafty Mother) — Thu, 29 Sep 2011 17:43:00 +0000

***Submitted by Diana, who is a regular contributor to Crying Out Now

I have waited almost six years for this to happen.

I have waited, not at all patiently, to attend a social function sober and not feel like an alien. I was the life of the party while I was drinking, the first to show up and the last to leave. Since I quit drinking I have mostly felt like an Amish girl at a strip club. I have tried valiantly to embrace the fun at parties and weddings and the like, but I inevitably end up having to politely duck out early having failed again. I had all but resigned myself to feeling at least somewhat awkward in all social situations where alcohol was served.

Last night it finally happened. I don’t know what the shift was, but Bob and I went to a wedding and I had a great time. I did put in the advance prep work, selecting a dress that I liked and planning all my accessories in advance. I gave myself enough time to get ready and planned the contents of my party purse. With the exception of an anxiety attack that came on when I saw the traffic and decided incorrectly that we would be late, I had absolutely nothing to obsess about (not that the absence of viable reasons to freak out has ever actually stopped me).

We saw friendly faces right as we arrived and I caught up with friends while Bob went to the bar to get me a diet coke. Most of the people at the wedding were aware that I don’t drink anymore and as we know, we alcoholics are much more inclined to pay attention to beverages that normal people are. The couple at whose wedding I had my final vodka-infused hurrah was also there. (I always joke with them that their reception was so much fun it sent me to rehab.)

I toasted the beautiful young couple with my diet coke and my water. I chatted above the DJ’s too loud music with our tablemates. But the real test came after dinner. The post dinner portion of the reception is usually all about drinking and dancing; the former is an activity that I have retired from and the other an activity that I felt much more secure in prior to my retirement from the former. This is also the part of any evening when I run the risk of being drawn into a conversation with an over served, slurring reveler. Last night I dodged that particular bullet and I danced. And I didn’t feel awkward.

When I was drinking I thought I was a very good dancer, just the right mix of sexy and rhythmic. I fear, in retrospect, that I was probably less sexy and more flail-y. I suspect most people who are liquored up and dancing think that they are pretty good. With the clarity of sobriety I don’t have any idea if I am a good dancer, but last night the music was really good and I didn’t care. We danced to songs both old and new and when I wasn’t dancing I was watching others dance. Everyone seemed to be having a really good time and whether or not alcohol contributed to their fun was none of my concern. I was having fun too. I didn’t feel other than.

I don’t know how other people reintegrate themselves socially. Maybe because I don’t have a heavy social calendar I have been slow to get to this point. Possibly because I was such a confirmed party girl it has taken me this long to find any level of comfort in a new sober version of my social self.

This may seem inconsequential to some, but it was a huge victory for me.

It was a big hurdle and I danced right over it.

To Know Thyself - The Beginning of The Journey

noreply@blogger.com (One Crafty Mother) — Mon, 26 Sep 2011 14:15:00 +0000

*** Submitted by Anonymous

It's been a long time coming.

Admitting the truth about my addiction to alcohol; and to say out loud. Hearing my own voice say the words: "I have a problem" was inspired by an article in Redbook I read in the waiting room of my chiropractor's office. Chiropractic care that I need once a week for neck and shoulder issues. Truthfully, more the result of drunken falls rather than the more benign excuse that it's the result of years of computer work. The title of the article was jarring - "Mommy is an Alcoholic". I fast forwarded 10 years and imagined hearing those words come out of my children's mouths. I felt like I had gotten hit by a train of truth.

For the past 5 years, I have been drinking a magnum bottle of wine almost every night. In my early forties with 2 young children; wine became my companion. As delighted as I was to have children and the great joy they bring - my life of freedom changed overnight. I turned to wine so I could shuffle through the monotony and routine of motherhood. It gave me patience. I have never been a patient person. My entire life, I have been plagued with anxiety and perfectionism. Nothing could ever be out of place. My house was always in order. I organized to the point of obsession. But children are unpredictable. I couldn't script or control every move or mess they made. I didn't want them to be like me so I let them just be children.

It was my new friend Pinot who told me that it was okay to leave the dishes in the sink and the toys on the floor. At least until morning when my sober self would manically whirl the house back to order. If the house was in order, there was no evidence of my internal dis-order.

I am married to a patient and kind man who never questioned my alcohol intake. I suspect he assumed I didn't really have a problem if the house was always clean; the kids were happy and cared for; there was always supper on the table; and my business was flourishing. Truth is - what appeared to be intact had a devastatingly weak foundation underneath. I have been hiding like a child who covers her eyes and assumes no one can see her because she can't see.

I have been living a life of shame and guilt for 5 years. Even in spite of that shame, I still drank. The first glass always had a magical way of drowning it out. In 42 minutes, half the bottle was down. It was almost a race to see how fast I could drown the guilt, the shame, the worry and the fear. I started watching the clock to see how long it took. A few more glasses and I was comfortably numb. While in that state of numbness, I drunkenly played with my kids; read to them with slurred speech; and tucked them into bed with double vision. One night, I fell asleep in their room. While I was asleep - they were playing with my video camera. I discovered the video a few days later. They were recording each other having a puppet show. In the background I am snoring. To my horror, they panned the camera on to their unconscious mother. I dropped the camera and began to shake.

There it was. In vivid color. My despicable truth.

But I stayed silent. I kept my hands tightly over my eyes. I felt like a horrible mother and human being. How could I subject my children to this? They weren't even afraid and should have been. What good would I have been if they needed me and I was in that condition? The guilt has reached epic proportions that even Pinot can't drown out anymore. I feel desperate and terrified.

I know the liquor store has one more bottle of guilt for me. Instead, I sit here writing my story, so one more hour passes that I don't get in the car and get it. The addiction is whispering, "Just one more bottle and then you stop. Just one more." While many of you have years, months and even days of sobriety - I only have hours. I need to get through this night without succumbing to that whisper. I know if I don't stay strong, tomorrow morning will come and the guilt will be sitting on my chest like "Fuseli's Nightmare".

If I can do it, tomorrow I will wake up and say to myself, "See how good it feels to wake up sober? Remember how productive and happy you felt the last time?" Those times are few and far between. Coming to this blog is my first step. Today is my first "one day at a time".

My children deserve a sober mother. My husband deserves a sober wife.

Thank you all for listening to my story and for sharing yours. You are a great inspiration.

On Getting Through A Social Event

noreply@blogger.com (One Crafty Mother) — Fri, 23 Sep 2011 17:25:00 +0000

***Submitted by Christine

Note from Ellie: We post submissions in the order we receive them, so a bit of time has passed since Christine submitted this post, and I want to let everyone know she made it through, sober and strong. This is a beautiful example of things we think about/things we can do when faced with a social occasion where alcohol will be served.

My name is Christine and I’m an alcoholic.

I’ve been sober since April 2nd, 2010. The handy “count your days” meter on the Grapevine website tells me that’s 504 days. Five hundred and four? For real? Because I never thought I’d get to four days, much less another five hundred.

Two years ago if I attempted not drinking for a day, I would start the morning with the best of intentions only to find myself drunk by 8 o’clock that night. It took one traumatic event and a few hard line ultimatums from my husband before I finally was willing to accept that my drinking was out of control and my behavior was hurting the people I loved the most.

I did not go to my first AA meeting with an open mind and willing heart. I went because everyone was telling me that I needed to go. That I needed help. That I was one false step away from a DWI and a stay in rehab, or a dandy little seizure…whichever came first. I did not stop drinking when I started attending AA meetings. I went to my first Saturday morning meeting totally hung over from the night before. But I went. And I listened. And I started to feel that it would be possible for me to get sober if I kept going and kept listening.

The first time I stopped drinking I made it forty-three days. On the forty-fourth day I went to the liquor store, bought two bottles of vodka and proceeded to drink daily for the next two months. I still went to work, I still functioned as a wife and mother (barely) but I was just a drunken excuse of an employee, spouse and Mom. There was no big bang or white light moment for me. There was no intervention. There was just the knowledge that I had to stop. I could not continue the way I was going without serious damage to my brain, my liver, my job, my children and my marriage.

And so I began the long, painful crawl towards sobriety. During these past five hundred (and four!) days I have avoided almost all social functions where I might be tempted by alcohol. I’ve passed on anniversary parties, picnics, holiday parties, and birthday parties because I’ve not been absolutely sure that I could not give in to the temptation to drink. After all, I’ve been using alcohol to make socializing fun and comfortable since I was thirteen years old. That’s thirty years of buzzed or drunken schmoozing. How’s a girl supposed to re-learn how to mingle, laugh, dance, and have a good time without the crutch of alcohol to lean upon?

But today, the reckoning has arrived. In three hours I’m going to join my co-workers at a large event where the booze will flow freely and I will be forced to face my cunning, baffling and oh so terribly strong disease head on. This event will last until Sunday morning. On Sunday morning, I plan to come home with five hundred and six days of sobriety on the counter.

How will I do this? First, I am taking back-up. My fifteen year old daughter is going with me. I’ve already told her that this might be hard for me and I might be very tempted by all the alcohol around me. I’ve told her that I will not drink. I will not throw away all of my hard work or the trust that I’ve had to regain from her and her sister. I will not disappoint my family that way. Second, I have prepared myself mentally for the battle ahead.

I’ve reminded myself of what it took to get sober and what it means to stay sober. I have repeated my serenity prayer multiple times this week and asked my higher power for the strength and grace that I will need to make it through these next two days.

And third, I have asked myself if I can do this. And myself has said, yes—yes you can. If myself had wavered at all, I would not be going. Because I’ve learned to listen to myself and trust myself in these last five hundred (and four!) days in a way that I could not before. And finally, I am here writing this to you all; my sisters in the struggle. I’m sharing with you and I’m asking you to think of me this weekend.

Think of me, send me your positive thoughts and know that we’re never alone in the battle. I will carry you with me, knowing that you’re cheering me on from afar