Crying Out Now

Had Enough And Trying To Stop

noreply@blogger.com (One Crafty Mother) — Wed, 23 May 2012 00:16:00 +0000

***Submitted by Anonymous

I’m 34 years old, married with three children, aged 5, 7 and 10.

I’ve been drinking since I was 14 years old. I’m a survivor of two broken homes while my mother moved onto a third. I regularly witnessed my brother being beaten up by my step-father, a man who, incongruously, I loved deeply and unconditionally as only a child can. Considering all my brother went through at the hands of our step-father, while to me he was only sweetness and light, is a guilt I seem destined to carry my whole life through. My mother and I were so close when I was a child growing up that I would make myself physically ill if I was apart from her for long lengths of time.

So when I was 14 and she left my step-father and moved in with her new (third) husband, I guess I never really got over it. I started using alcohol as a means of escaping the misery of this home-life. I have memories of those early years of drinking that can only be described as horror stories. A car accident while I was driving blue-face drunk, 5 of my friends in the back, all of us lucky to escape with our lives; Losing my virginity and regaining consciousness on the floor of the grottiest toilet in the grottiest hotel nightclub in town with my “boyfriend” nowhere in sight. And that was just the early days.

I briefly got things under control in my early twenties, when I got married and began having my babies. In fact I never even gave alcohol a second thought back then; I felt sure I would never again succumb to its beguiling qualities. But after my third child was born alcohol slowly began to creep back into my life. Socially at first - dinner parties, bbq’s and the like. Then a glass or two of wine became part of my daily routine in the kitchen while cooking dinner.

Times were tough financially, my husband and I were struggling. New cracks appeared with my mother, step-father and brother, leading to an all-out war. Binge drinking once more became a feature of my life, as did the vomiting that usually goes with it. And now, all of a sudden, I find I’m a woman who drinks to get drunk every single day. I conceal my drinking. I often have black outs.

The Doctor says my blood pressure is higher than he’d expect from a 60 year old woman let alone from one half that age and in reasonably fit/trim condition. The horror stories from when I was 14 are coming back with a vengeance. This time the stakes are on my marriage, my life, and my children’s future, possibly with[out] either.

I’ve wanted to quit drinking before and I’ve tried many things - from counselling to cold turkey. I’ve never stayed with anything the distance. I like drinking too much. My resolve doesn’t even last the length of a day. Alcohol is my barbed companion whom I love and hate with equal ferocity. I love him for carrying my baggage. I hate him, because he is always opening the contents of those bags and waving them around in front of me.

Alcohol is both my savior and my accuser. Salve and poison. Liberator and jailer. At the root of it all? I believe I am a failure. My demons are guilt, shame, doubt, low self-esteem, fear of abandonment, obsessive compulsive tendencies, sadness and, on occasion, a tidy measure of self-loathing. If I could JUST get this right, or that right, then I wouldn’t be such a bad person/failure/disgrace/loser. These posts have made me appreciate how tragically common these thought patterns are among people who abuse alcohol. I’m a neglectful mother. I’m a spineless, unfaithful wife. I’m a callous daughter. A disloyal sister.

On and on it goes. Alcohol momentarily lightens this load; unshackles me from my mistakes and my shame so I can be free - free to love, and be loved. But alas it never lasts. I once drove my head into a column heater while my children just watched on in confusion. I don’t always understand what I do, and I certainly can never explain it, but there is something about knowing that alcohol is hurting, even killing me, that is mildly satisfying in some part of my brain. It’s like I am taking the punishment I deserve.

The layers of this complicated beast seem almost impossible to peel back. And yet in wanting to write this post I began to feel as though maybe, just maybe, it might be possible - even worthwhile - to try. In fact, what I discovered was that once I started writing/peeling, I couldn’t stop. I knew I had to keep my post to this forum under 1000 words but I hadn’t a hope! Writing has always been an outlet for me, so turning pen to paper to write myself sober seemed both natural and necessary. I therefore started a brand new blog, called "Writing Myself Sober - getting out from under the influence".

My first post is called “Had Enough. ?”, and is dedicated to all the brave, strong and inspiring women who have motivated me to do something to help myself.

Thank you so very much.

40 Months

noreply@blogger.com (One Crafty Mother) — Mon, 14 May 2012 15:45:00 +0000

***Submitted by Jamee, who blogs at Off Her Sauce

It has been 40 months since I took my last drink. Over 1,200 days. Nights and weekends. So am I cured?

I'm afraid not. I had a scare just last week, twice I justified taking pain pills when they were not exactly necessary and not for the pain they were prescribed for. As I was sitting at the ball park, texting a friend, I shared that I had just recently gotten the pills back after giving them to my sponsor to hold on to during a rough patch. I was bemoaning my lack of willpower and she offered to hold on to them for me.

She said, but if you give them to me I'm not giving them back.

I said no thank you. I wanted to keep the pills. Even though both times I took them my attitude got worse. My irritation with myself grew exponentially. I was not more patient with my children. And I am not even sure my hip pain lessened. So why hang on to them?

Why was I holding on so tightly to something that really wasn't working for me?

Because I am an addict. My counselor explained it to me in this way: a part of my brain is looking for the euphoric feeling I had once or twice with the pills. Nevermind that it doesn't happen anymore; somewhere, somehow, my brain thinks it can get it again. Which is why I took two instead of one on Saturday.

And my counselor also told me that it is not a character defect that causes me to want the pills, there is legitimate brain chemistry at work. Though I think it WOULD be a character defect if I didn't recognize my behaviors and do something about them. Especially dangerous behaviors that have the possibility of hurting myself or others. And taking pain pills falls into that catagory.

So I changed my mind. The next morning I left my prescription bottles and a short note on my friend's desk. And I feel so free. I am not having to fight myself to take or not take the pills. I am not thinking all the time about the pains in my hips and if they hurt 'that badly' or not.

Sheesh.....at some point I am praying this gets easier. But if it doesn't, I have faith that He will give me strength.....one day at a time.

and there IS hope.

12 Hours Since Her Last Drink

noreply@blogger.com (One Crafty Mother) — Tue, 08 May 2012 14:36:00 +0000

***Submitted by Leigh

Last night my husband sat me and down and talked to me about my drinking. This is a day I had feared would come but hoped would not. What pushed him to confront me was an embarrassing display at a party where I flirted with the husband of one of my best friends. And here’s the scary part: I don’t remember any of it.

I took my first drink when I was about 12 and even from the start, I had a hard time “pacing” myself. Over the next 3 decades, I have convinced myself that my drinking was normal. College is a blurry haze, but isn’t that the way it is for everyone? I would go long periods of time without having anything to drink. But at the next social event or mom’s night out, I would overindulge. I don’t remember things that I have done while drunk and quite frequently end up on the floor of the bathroom throwing up. Stomach issues are common for me and I’ve always said that I must have IBS. I’m not so sure anymore.

Since becoming a mother, I have found a wonderful new set of friends. And just like others I have read about online, the play dates would often include a glass of wine (or three) starting well before the socially acceptable 5pm mark). How many times have I said “It’s 5 o’clock somewhere!”? That old joke. Whenever the kids are acting up or the pressures of marriage get to be too much, we would joke to each other about needing that glass of wine. Never stopping to think that it was a problem. After all, we were not homeless and disheveled. Our kids were clean and smart and loved. How could this be a problem?

But now my drinking has gotten excessive. On a recent trip to my parent’s house, I went out and bought a few bottles of wine to get me through the visit. They don’t drink so I would wait until they were in bed, and then I would open a bottle and settle down with a movie. I wasn’t driving or going anywhere and my son was safe in his bed, so what was the harm?

I’ve also been mixing pills with alcohol, telling myself that I’m not taking enough to cause a problem. But I’m a healthcare professional. I know better.

I’ve been wondering if I drink too much for the past few years. But that is as far as I would go. Just wondering. I have never said it out loud, but when my husband brought it up, I knew it was true. The reason I started wondering about it in the first place was Stefanie Wilder-Taylor’s story. It was as if I had written that story. I couldn’t believe the similarities. And I really didn’t realize until that moment that my behavior was a problem.

So I know now that I do not have the ability to have just one glass of wine. And now I’m scared. I feel alone and frightened and I don’t know where to turn. I’m so grateful that my husband said something to me before anything worse happened. And I know I need to stop. I’m tired of losing whole days of enjoyment with my family because I’m hung over. I’m tired of being clammy and irritable with my son just because I’m coming off a bender. And I’m especially tired of the guilt I feel the morning after. It’s a guilt so deep, I feel it to my bones.

But I don’t know how to get past it. I don’t know how to live with myself and the awful things that I have done without medicating it away. I don’t like myself very much and I can detach easier when I drink.

It’s been about 12 hours since my last sip of alcohol. I have no doubts that I should never drink again. I just don’t know what to do now. AA doesn’t appeal to me. I’m not a Christian and so I don’t think I would feel sincere standing there during the Serenity Prayer. I’m sure it’s a good program; just not for me.

I’m hoping that if my story appears on this website, that someone out there will reach out to me. I really feel alone and awful and guilty and ashamed and embarrassed and horrified and any other negative feeling a person can have. I really hate myself right now and even though I don’t think I deserve support and help, I need to ask for it.

Thank you for listening.

Gestating Elephants

noreply@blogger.com (One Crafty Mother) — Tue, 01 May 2012 19:58:00 +0000

***Submitted by Susan, who blogs at Writing My Way Sober

18 months ago a sober friend told me it takes 18 months of sobriety to feel somewhat solid in recovery. That's the same amount of time a baby elephant is in the womb.

Well, tomorrow is my 18 month anniversary. Much has occurred in 18 months. I'd say I've experienced something akin to the miracle and power of a baby elephant.

I am more at peace and am facing Stage II breast cancer with more equanimity than I would have thought possible 18 months ago.

In fact, I'm falling in love with myself.

This is a revolution for me that would not be possible without sobriety.

Years ago I heard the following story from an Ojibway medicine woman.

She spoke of once seeing a well respected Navajo medicine man for some health problems. She had anticipated this session with great anxiety and earnestness to "be a good patient." After he made the initial preparations, he told her he needed her to do one thing or the healing wouldn't work. She waited to hear her instructions, anticipating something terribly demanding, determined to deliver. After nodding her head, he gently said:

"I need you to sit beautifully."

She erupted into tears at this, as did I when she said it.

I don't even know what this means exactly or why it makes me cry. But I have been remembering this story a lot lately.

Such simple and yet incredibly profound instructions for healing. There is so much permission to be beautiful, to let go of shame - pointing to some regal avenue to heal.

She needed to feel her worth to heal. He couldn't do it for her. He needed her to sit beautifully - with grace, self-love, compassion, power.

Sobriety has allowed me to realize my beauty, my grace, and my power.

So as I sat on the examining room table today, listing to the surgeon discuss mastectomy vs. lumpectomy, I sat beautifully. I was there for myself. I did not beat myself up for what may have gotten me to this point. I felt and practiced self-compassion, for I am suffering and in dire need of kindness.

I do not know how to wrap this up. I wish I could kiss you on the forehead, so just kiss your hand and pat your head gently. You are a beautiful child, wonderfully amazing, no matter where you are at with your drinking.

Two Days Sober

noreply@blogger.com (One Crafty Mother) — Thu, 26 Apr 2012 17:23:00 +0000

Submitted by Imogen, who blogs over at imogen2012.blogspot.co.uk

I don't drink.

Reading people's stories on forums yesterday made me think that perhaps my drinking habits are not that bad. The stories didn't shock me - although they did make me sad - but they did give me a moment's pause: I don't physically or mentally abuse people, I don't get violent, I don't lose jobs, marriages, yell at my kids, etc.

Then I began thinking:

I don't have kids – they would have got in the way of my drinking career

I'm only recently married at age 43 – previous boyfriends didn't want to stick around to witness the sideshow that was my life

I couldn't lose friendships – my 'friends' were all heavy drinkers

I didn’t lose jobs – my career has gone nowhere because I was happy to 'get by' in roles with little responsibility because I was always too hungover to deal with anything more senior

I don't abuse my nearest and dearest – I essentially cut myself off from the positive and happy people in my life in order to drink.

Alcohol has been the most significant relationship in my life.

In my twenties, every social event was reviewed as to whether it was alcohol-friendly, e.g., if a friend invited me for coffee I would generally make excuses not to go. If they asked me to meet them at the pub, however, I was the first one there! Even going to the cinema was off limits because I couldn't take a bottle of wine in with me.

In my thirties, I still reviewed some activities by alcohol availability, but I was generally more willing to go out because I had a cunning solution! I would be sociable and happy at dinners with family and friends just having a glass of wine or two, then I would get home and the real, heavy drinking would begin. This is when the secrecy, and consequently the shame, really began to take hold.

Now in my early forties, the pain of living with the shame is finally greater than the perceived pain of living without alcohol. It has been so draining on every level to maintain my excessive drinking and I don’t have the energy for it anymore. To be honest, I think it will be easier and will take less energy to not drink than it was to live with the constant daily struggle of self-loathing and fear.

I need to wake up not hating myself

I need to stop wondering what the hell I am punishing myself for

I need to be the person I’ve always wanted to be, but was too scared to let the world see

I need to treat myself as I treat someone I really care about.

Hope for the Average Drunk

noreply@blogger.com (One Crafty Mother) — Thu, 19 Apr 2012 19:18:00 +0000

*** Submitted by Karen, who blogs at A Life Less Scripted

No two rock bottoms are the same.

The point where we decide that we simply cannot keep hurting ourselves looks different for everyone. This is important because some of us struggle with our perception of what alcoholism looks like.

I’m going to admit something because I know if I felt it, others have felt it too.

When I first stopped drinking, I secretly wondered if I was alcoholic enough. There was no question that I needed to stop drinking but my rock bottom wasn’t as dramatic as other alcoholics I’ve known or known about. Part of me wanted my disease to look like everyone else’s to help me better blend in.

I’m a classic over-achieving under-achiever. I’ve never been excellent at anything and I’ve never seriously failed at anything. It’s been exhausting to stay perfectly in the middle, just under the radar and average. To complicate matters, I’m a perfectionist. That means I’ve had to live a very scripted life in order to maintain these boundaries. Drinking offered me a brief release from my chosen mediocrity.

Some of us think that alcoholism has to look like a scene from Intervention.

When I told Hubster that I thought I had a drinking problem, even he said, “What did you do?”

“I didn’t do anything,” I replied.

“So,” he said, not quite understanding, “you didn’t do anything?” I knew he meant did I cheat on him, hurt one of the kids or get a DUI. Something devastating.

“No,” I said. “I went to bed. I woke up. I can never drink again.”

I had what’s known as a “high” rock bottom. Through the grace of God, I was able to start recovering from my drinking problem before I seriously screwed up my life. It doesn’t make me any less of an alcoholic. It does make me very grateful.

So, even though I secretly feared that I would be judged for not being alcoholic enough, those fears were never realized. Not one person said I couldn’t join the club. In fact, the exact opposite was true. Every single alcoholic I encountered nodded their heads and said, “Yup. I can relate to that.”

The details of our drinking are different but our stories have the same theme. We admitted we were powerless over our addiction – that our lives had become unmanageable.

If you’re still drinking, here’s what I want you to know:

Your rock bottom can look nothing like a scene from Intervention and you can still be an alcoholic.
If you don’t cheat on your spouse, lose your kids or get a DUI, you can still be an alcoholic.
If you only drink on the weekend, you can still be an alcoholic.
If you don’t hide bottles of alcohol in the house, you can still be an alcoholic.
If no one would ever guess that you have a problem, you can still be an alcoholic.
If you can’t wrap your mind around a Higher Power, you can still get help.

If you’ve stopped drinking but still sometimes feel a little guilty for getting to miss out on a low bottom:

If you can get through an entire episode of Mad Men without wanting to go on a drinking binge (or smoking binge for that matter), you can still be an alcoholic.
If a friend comes over and puts a bottle of Jagermeister in your freezer and you’re not tempted to sneak sips, you can still be an alcoholic. Well, maybe not Jagermeister. That shit is vile. I only use that example because it happened to me last weekend. Let’s change it to a frosty bottle of Lemoncello.
If you somehow managed to lose weight after you stopped drinking, even after consuming huge amounts of chocolate and ice cream, you can still be an alcoholic.

Today marks the 8^th month of my sobriety. I want to thank God, Hubster, my kids, my family and my friends for helping me live a life less scripted.

One day at a time.

Going to My First AA Meeting. A Mother Speaks Her Truth

noreply@blogger.com (One Crafty Mother) — Wed, 11 Apr 2012 17:31:00 +0000

***Submitted by Anonymous (please note: due to the delay between receiving posts and posting them, the "noon today" is not, in fact today. Hopefully Anonymous will send us an update on how she is doing.)

I am going to an AA meeting at noon today. I am hung over. I am at work. I showed up on time like I always do.

My anger and hurt are a twisted tin can of worms. I am still reeling from the events of last night and this morning. I am confused. I am hurt. I am not sure how to unravel my anger at my husband from my need to take ownership of my own addiction. Why is it always jammed together like this? Why does he twist it so much?

He came home last night at 2:00 am, slurring. I was asleep, and had been for several hours. Earlier in the night I had a glass with the neighborhood moms (okay I had 2), and then finished off the rest of the bottle alone, watching American Idol and the Housewives of Orange County. Because it's fun to drink alone (?), because I like drinking. I like numbing out. I deserve a break, right?

He came home at 2:00 am slurring. He was agitated because I am not affectionate enough. Becasue he had cancer surgery. Because I am not supportive enough. Becasue he does too much and I don't do enough. I asked him to be quiet and let me sleep. He kept at it. What is he angry about? I am still not sure. I just know he is angry and he's drunk and this is never good. It never ends well. I asked him to leave me aone. I reminded him that it is not okay to to this again. To frighten me at 2:00 am with drunken diatribes. He pressed on. "I guess this is it" he repeats several times. "I didn't want it to come to this" he repeats several times. He seems to want to tell me our marriage is over? That this was my last chance to save it? at 2:00 in the morning, when I have been sleeping? This is the time I am supposed to do (exactly what is not clear) something to save our marriage? And in not doing so, this is my fault?

I beg him to stop in my still somewhat drunk and sleepy stupor. He. Keeps. At me. I try to placate him. I lay my hand on his chest to try to soothe him , though I am repulsed by him in the moment. I don't want to touch him. I want him away. He keeps at me.

I take my pillow and once again slept in my 4 year olds sons room. Like I did less than two weeks ago.

Not again. We can't be here again. Not in the new house. Not since I implemented the "sage burning rule" in which our bedroom needs to be smudged with sage every time he does this. This was 5 years ago. We had grown, hadn't we? How could we be here again.

He has cancer (or had it, as surgery 3 months ago was curative). His mom has cancer (which is more traumatic somehow for him than it is for me - My mom has cancer as well - stage 4). He is doing it again.

This morning when I told him I planned to follow through on my threat - That I no longer feel safe sharing a room with him- That I can't share a room with someone who disrupts, harasses me, scares me in that state in the middle of thie night in my own room - he unleashed on me.

"YOU NEED TO STOP DRINKING!' He shouted in front of the kids.

"YOU NEED TO STOP DRINKING!" My 7 year old can hear him. my 4 year old can hear him. They probably know what this means. They see the wine glass in my hand almost every night.

"YOU NEED TO STOP DRINKING!" He followed me through the house shouting at me repeatedly.

"YOU NEED TO STOP DRINKING!" PLEASE STOP DRINKING!" He yelled out the patio door as I fed the dogs.

"YOU NEED TO STOP DRINKING!" He shouted at me as I put on my makeup. Look at you ! Look at yourself! Everyone can tell by looking at you!

"YOU NEED TO STOP DRINKING!" He shouted as I fed the kids breakfast. He's never done this in front of the kids before. I think he's still drunk. He has been a mean drunk, and becoming a meaner drunk by the day. Doesn't matter if it's wo beers or 12. He gets that in his system and it gives him permission to rage at me.

"Try not to get a DUI on your way to work today", I snark at him. It's the one thing I say to lash out. To hurt him. He's a mean drunk, and when he drinks enough to have it in his system in the morning, he's meaern than a snake the next morning too. "Want to see it on video?" he threatens. He pulls out his iphone. "I recorded it!" he shouts. I am confused. He talks about recording conversations as though this would prove that the problem is ME. It never makes sense, and it doesn't now. He finally leaves to go to work. The house is quiet again.

I am shaken. Our home is chaotic. This is not what I want our home tobe. This is not what I want my family to be. This is hurting out kids. I need to do what I can to make it less chaotic.

I am scared because I need my numbing juice more than I want to admit. I am scared because I know I drink too much, too often, by myself. I don't think I can stop this alone. I am scared because I am so incredibly lonely and embarrased. I am embarrased and ashamed that my life is like this. I am ashamed that this goes on and then come apologies, and then I carry on and pretend my marriage is normal and that my drinking is normal and that his drinking is normal. I am ashamed my husband acts like this. I am ashamed I allow my life to be like this. I am ashamed that I am a wine-breathed shadow of a mother.

I am going to an AA meeting at noon today.

A Binge Drinker Tells Her Truth

noreply@blogger.com (One Crafty Mother) — Tue, 03 Apr 2012 22:22:00 +0000

***Submitted by Ariel

I’ve been a binge drinker for 20 years. I have every reason in the world to quit drinking. A great husband, 3 kids that I love like crazy, my own business, friends, and I have the desire to quit – to be a sober person – but I can’t seem to accomplish this.

My husband is a normal drinker. A couple of beers or a few glasses of wine and he’s good. He doesn’t have regular blackouts and pass out on the couch, like I do. He’s the responsible one, the designated driver (for me, always). He’s the one who will pick up our sons if they’re at friends’ houses at night, because God knows I can't drive.

I try to rationalize why I drink about two bottles of wine a night, 4 nights a week, sometimes 5, more if it’s a ‘holiday week’ or we’re away on vacation, or any other excuse. Am I bored and drinking to escape into a buzzed inner-euphoria? (yes). Am I intentionally trying to set a bad example for my kids? (I’m not doing it because I want to, but yes, of course I am setting a bad example. I am painfully aware of this, yet I continue to drink too much wine.) Do I want cirrhosis of the liver? Do I have a death wish? (no).

I believe that I drink a lot at home out of boredom and habit. As early as 5pm or 6pm, the cork gets popped and mom’s got a tumbler of wine in her hand…one that will be refilled many times.

I believe that I drink a lot when I’m out with friends, or when my husband and I go out on a super rare occasion, because being drunk feels good and makes me feel like a more interesting,outgoing person to be around. That is, except when the night devolves in to me being in a drunken stupor, falling off my chair, having someone pour me back into my house later that night. Me, not remembering the second half of so many nights.

Having said all this, one would never know I have a problem. I don’t drink during the day. I *can* go for days without drinking (recently went for 6 straight days while visiting family in another state. I didn’t even miss my wine. Why is that?) I’m highly functional. I’m really into fitness (I know, the irony). I work outdoing hard core cardio or weight training nearly every day and I eat right. I’m in love with my kids and husband, have a nice house, I’m great at what I do according to my clients, yada yada.

So why the heck can’t I even cut down? It’s just getting worse and worse.

I worry that I’m going to go the way of Whitney Houston. I’m almost the age she was when she died earlier this year. I hope I can muster the strength to go to a women’s meeting. I don’t have the strength yet to tell friends, family, or even straight-on tell my husband of my problem (but geez, he knows, right?).

You Are Not Alone

noreply@blogger.com (One Crafty Mother) — Wed, 28 Mar 2012 15:05:00 +0000

A note from Ellie:

So many women come to this website who are wondering about their drinking, or trying to stop but just don't know how to take that first scary step. At Crying Out Now we get dozens of emails every month from women who see themselves in the stories here, but still feel so alone, so stuck.

There is one absolute truth to getting sober: you cannot do it alone. In order to stop drinking, you have to open up, ask for help, get talking, get a support network in your life. For many people this is Alcoholics Anonymous (AA) (this is where I went when I finally knew I had to get help). You can find meetings at their website online, or call their hot line to find a meeting near you. At these meetings you will find people who have walked the path before you, and who totally understand how you feel. They are safe, and are as concerned about anonymity as you are.

There are people who won't try AA, for whatever reason, and I understand that. There are other resources, like Women For Sobriety (see the link in the right hand sidebar).

There are online resources like the Booze Free Brigade (link also in the right hand sidebar) - over 1,000 members strong (mostly women) and growing daily. The Booze Free Brigade (or BFB, as we call ourselves) is a Yahoo chat group that was started by two sober women (one of them is Stefanie Wilder-Taylor of Baby on Bored) and it is FULL of women who are newly sober, who are still drinking but want to get sober, or who have been sober a while and want to stay that way. This is a FANTASTIC place to go open up, introduce yourself, talk about how you're feeling, get encouragement from people who are right where you are.

If you are concerned about anonymity, start an anonymous yahoo email account to join. It's free. You have to be "approved" to get in, but this only means a very brief application (keeps out spammers and people who shouldn't be there) - applications are approved once or twice a week so it doesn't take long to get in. Many of these women have met up in real life, become invaluable support systems for each other. They have cheered each other on as they went to their first meeting, opened up to family members, celebrated milestones. In order to get the most from the Booze Free Brigade, however, you have to introduce yourself and start talking. I guaranty that just typing out your pain will help.

Stefanie created this beautiful video to show those of you who are out there struggling that there IS life on the other side of drinking, that it DOES get better, but you have to ask for help to get there. She asked some sober women from the Booze Free Brigade (and elsewhere) to write out a piece of advice that helped them when they were struggling, and then she put them all together in this gorgeous video. Watch it and be inspired. Get help. You're worth it.

Becoming The Person She Wants To Be

noreply@blogger.com (One Crafty Mother) — Tue, 20 Mar 2012 20:59:00 +0000

***Submitted by Anonymous:

Like most people, I’m not really sure where or why my life started to fall apart and alcohol started to take over my life.

What I do know is that it did and it was a spiral that took over every ounce of my soul. Every day is a battle and prayers to the God of my understanding are continuous in an effort to relieve me of the bondage of self because sometimes, often times, life and all of my problems are simply to big for me.

I am the daughter of an alcoholic Father and a Mother who just struggled to keep the family together and assemble some sort of peace in the chaos of my Father’s drinking and all of the trauma that went along with it. Looking back, my drinking and my life spiraled just like my father. The family eventually fell a part.

I managed my life and was very successful in a medical sales career. I got pregnant with my daughter when I was 34 and at 36 my life had turned upside down. My daughter’s father and I couldn’t make things work and certain life events made me turn to the bottle for support and love. I got a DUI and ended up in treatment, knowing that when I got out I would drink again.

I went to meetings thinking that it would somehow make me feel better about my drinking. Clearly, a half assed attempt on having some sort of serenity in my life. I would stay sober for a bit and then fall right back into old behavior in an effort to relieve the pain. I had lost everything that I ever truly wanted in my life… my daughter, her father, the life that I had always wanted or at least the picture that I had painted for my future.

I had finally gotten my daughter back in the summer of 2011; my ex and I shared custody. I was still drinking and it was only getting worse. I thought that I could continue to hide my drinking but on August 9^th, my daughter was taken from me.

I went back to rehab on September 5^th, 2011 and have been sober since.

I have seen my little girl 11 times since that day and I didn’t see her for the first time again until early December, four months of not seeing her or talking to her. My ex has temporary full custody of her now and my days are now filled with thoughts of seeing her on Thursday evening for 45 minutes in a child psychiatrist office, supervised.

The destruction of my drinking and the actions related, resulted in my loosing the one thing that I love and cherish the most in life. Every single day is a battle and my life seems so incredibly overwhelming at times but I couldn’t keep going if I wasn’t sober. Some days are good, some days are bad, and some days I just simply exist not knowing how to clean up the wreckage of my actions. I go to meetings, I do service work, I have a sponsor, I have a God of my understanding but life is hard.

Thoughts of my little girl take up every ounce of space in my head and in my heart, I often cry myself to sleep wishing that I could just go into her room and smell her hair or touch her skin… some days I just can’t seem to find the light at the end of the tunnel but I know that as long as I am sober there will always be hope because my drinking offered no hope at all.

This journey has taught me about the person that I want to be.

In this process I can’t lose who I am…it’s like my sponsor told me, being an alcoholic is only part of who you are. The hardest part of sobriety is cleaning up the wreckage of my past.

I continue trying to mend relationships with those that I have hurt, trying to get more time with the one thing that I love most in life (my daughter), figuring out my future, recovering from financial ruin, and figuring out who I am but without a God of my understanding, my sponsor, wonderful friends and family, and my AA family, I wouldn’t be here to tell my story.

Tired of This Drinking Game

noreply@blogger.com (One Crafty Mother) — Tue, 13 Mar 2012 18:38:00 +0000

***Submitted by Anonymous

Once again the bottle is almost empty, and I don't want to buy another one, but I do want to buy another one. I go to different liquor stores so nobody sees me too often.

I don't know how to stop.

My husband says he wants the old me back, but I don't know who the old me is anymore.

I have anxiety, and the drinking gets rid of it, but I truly don't know what came first. The anxiety or the alcoholism.

I know all the health risks to my excessive drinking, but some part of me doesn't care, and I can't figure out why. I have a wonderful husband, two grown daughters who are married to great men, and two beautiful granddaughters.

I was let go from my last job for "causing disharmony amongst the staff." Something completely not true. The drinking really went into high gear as I searched for a new job for 22 months. I have been at my new job for five months now, and I really like it.

I have everything to quit drinking, but for some reason I can't do it.

If you have any ideas for me, I would truly love to hear them.

Thank you.

Here I Go Again

noreply@blogger.com (One Crafty Mother) — Mon, 05 Mar 2012 14:13:00 +0000

***Submitted by Anonymous

Here I go again. Waking up and remembering most of the evening before, but not exactly everything. I'm nervous and discombobulated. My thoughts are of regret and self-loathing. Why did I do this again? It's like the old joke - "Doctor, Doctor, it hurts when I do that". "Then don't do that...".

I went on this website when it was referred to in an article in the Toronto Star. I was amazed that there are so many women that struggle with this - just like me. I was also encouraged by the fact that so many of the "participants" were so forthright and not embarrassed to come forth. You are all amazing; my hope is that I can stand amongst all of you and end or at the very least control this awful cycle of addiction.

I drank on and off, heavy and casually, way before my marriage ended. My husband travelled a great deal, often out of the country and I was left at home, working a full time job, raising three young children. I never had allowed myself time for myself, spent money on myself - except for the copious amounts of white wine. All that money and nothing to show for it. Ha!

My husband then left me for another much younger woman. I was devastated despite the fact that I was very unhappy in the marriage. My bi-polar disorder went into overdrive, drank heavily, spent money on a new wardrobe as I lost weight (my caloric intake was almost entirely alcoholic in nature), started dating in earnest (God, I looked great on the outside, slimmer, well-outfitted but a mess on the inside; men don't care, they just want, well, you know....).

Fast forward three years. I moved back to my hometown. Landed a great job. Brought the kids with me. Bought a house. Some of my demons have been conquered, but the largest and most consuming one, alcohol is still very much alive and is it tenacious.... It has gotten in the way of a relationship with a wonderful man. My kids are beginning to sense that I have a drinking problem.

This is the journey that I begin again, but today, there's an earnestness and urgency I haven't felt before.

Thank you.

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.