I am not struggling at all. I feel like a fraud even keeping this blog. I had one moment last night while getting dinner when I wanted a drink but that passed very quickly. I am sleeping really well, and feel on top of the world, although I am very tired by the end of the day, but I am active again instead of just sitting in my room either drinking or recovering from drinking. Is this a honeymoon phase? Are the really tough times ahead? I've been to the club with the family for lunch, and to the pub yesterday with Husband for lunch and had no desire for a drink, even though yesterday he had a beer (after clearing it with me first). I am loving feeling "normal" and clear headed and getting things done again, and being able to watch tv, have conversations, and phone calls and remembering it all the next day. My remorse at the things I have done, especially that Friday night, is in check and seems at the right level. I am concentrating on moving forward, and while apologetic to my family, not dwelling on the disasters that drinking led me into. MY drinking, I say it like it's a separate entity.
I need to read back over some of my fellow bloggers to see if they went through something similar in the early days. I honestly have no desire, or interest in, drinking at the moment. Is it because I know the consequence will be swift and dire if I do? (Kids signing off on me, and the possibility of going to jail).
I will continue to blog, as I suspect there are harder times ahead for me.
Wednesday, 10 June 2015
Sunday, 7 June 2015
Sleep and a little Pay Back
I woke this morning with a smile on my face, feeling happy and rested for the first time in a very long time. I had the bed to myself because husband was away working, so that helped (no snoring) and of course no alcohol in my system. Of course the smile had just a little to do with a bit of harmless "pay back" in regard to my son. On the night I was told to leave my home I walked up the street a bit and hid in a neighbour's carport till the police left then came back home and got into bed. It was late and cold by this time and I just wanted to sleep it off. At that point the AVO only said I couldn't come near the house if I was intoxicated, and of course I still was but was going to go straight to sleep and have nothing more to do with anyone else. I begged the kids to just leave me alone and not ring the police again and promised to just go to sleep. Egged on by my son's "friend" a nasty piece of work who is way too involved with our business, the kids got dressed and said they were going for a walk. They walked alright, straight down to the police station to tell them I was back in the house. So then the police arrived back with a revised AVO (I wasn't to find that out till I sobered up the next day) which said I couldn't come near the house under any circumstances and it was then that I was taken to the refuge. I can understand that the kids were frightened, but I was asleep in bed and would have stayed that way till morning.
Anyway, last evening Son comes to me and asks what time dinner will be ready. I told him it was just a matter of heating up some pulled beef for quesadilla or tacos and I can do that whenever he is ready. He said he was going to hang out with his friends. This was about 4.30pm. I heard nothing more from him, he has no phone, but he has our numbers. Daughter and I went about our evening, had dinner, and went to bed. At about 12.50am I was woken by the sensor light on the front porch and noises. I heard a car idling and realised it was Son and his friend. Son has a key but says he can't get it to work and I think he's lost it anyway. He didn't knock, my bedroom door is metres away from the front door and I have a set of French doors leading out onto the verandah even closer to where I sleep. No knocking, no calling out, no phone call. So I just lay there and listened. He rattled the screen door (it wasn't locked. ???) and I heard the car drive off but he was still out there. I waited, I wouldn't have let him stay out there in the cold of course (or would I??? muwhahah). Eventually the car came back and they left. Why he didn't just stay at Horrible Friend's house as he usually does is anyone's guess, but I had a bit of an evil chuckle as I thought of his frustration at not being able to GET INTO HIS OWN HOUSE.
It's a cold, foggy Sunday morning and I feel wonderful. I have had no cravings since a few niggly ones last weekend when E and I were in the motel. I know this means nothing this early in the piece. My dependence, while it definitely became physical in the end, is more of an emotional and mental one and the challenge will be coping with difficulties and problems as they will inevitably occur. It's a little weird to get my head around the fact that I can never drink alcohol again, it's been such a huge part of my life for so very long. It's been my friend, my comfort, my escape. I got to the stage a few months ago, when everything seemed so hopeless and there appeared to my foggy thought process, that there was no way out, that I decided I would drink myself to death. What a great idea, solves everything for everybody. But it's not that simple is it? You don't just get drunk and die, well some do but I wouldn't have. It would have been a long, drawn out painful process for everyone involved, not least my children. This is what poison does to a mind. I really believed that my husband had me pinned down on the bed, trying to choke me. What really happened, and I have witnesses, is that he came to give me my wallet as I sat on the edge of the bed and I lunged at him and he pushed me away and I ended up on my back. The children told me later they saw me sitting on the bed pushing my own thumbs into my neck to make bruises. Why would I do that? Crazy, poisoned brain.
Enough of Friday night, although I need to keep the events in mind as a reminder of how close I came to losing my sanity, my family, my home and everything.
I am hoping that by keeping this journal, which for now is off limits to all but other "recovery" bloggers, I can unravel the reasons for my drinking and explore the events, the thought processes and the choices that led me to Friday night. I have chosen, for now, not to do rehab, and not to see a "counsellor". I have tried that, and one of the last things she said to me was that I "could have a drink". WTF? What alcohol counsellor says that? She also kept cancelling appointments. Geez I'm the drunk, that's my MO.
For now, I am concentrating on getting my body healthy and well and being gentle on myself. I know myself well enough, now the booze is leaving my system to know what I need now. I am eating too much, but mostly healthy stuff and that's okay, I know that will settle down, I've been starving myself for too long. Yesterday I made vegie and lentil soup and had corned beef and vegies for dinner. I am taking my supplements and my anti depressant and have discovered a new morning drink. I read somewhere that cayenne pepper can help with cravings, which I haven't really had, but I figured it couldn't hurt so I am squeezing a lemon into water first thing with a good dash of cayenne and having that before my morning cuppa. I am trying to get a walk every day, and dragging anyone who wants to come, with me, and am slowly getting the house back in order, while still being easy on myself and taking plenty of time to rest and think and reflect. My mindfullness skills, learned on a course I did when E was having therapy are coming back and I am finding it quite useful, funny how things stick at the back of the brain only to come to the fore when needed.
Anyway, last evening Son comes to me and asks what time dinner will be ready. I told him it was just a matter of heating up some pulled beef for quesadilla or tacos and I can do that whenever he is ready. He said he was going to hang out with his friends. This was about 4.30pm. I heard nothing more from him, he has no phone, but he has our numbers. Daughter and I went about our evening, had dinner, and went to bed. At about 12.50am I was woken by the sensor light on the front porch and noises. I heard a car idling and realised it was Son and his friend. Son has a key but says he can't get it to work and I think he's lost it anyway. He didn't knock, my bedroom door is metres away from the front door and I have a set of French doors leading out onto the verandah even closer to where I sleep. No knocking, no calling out, no phone call. So I just lay there and listened. He rattled the screen door (it wasn't locked. ???) and I heard the car drive off but he was still out there. I waited, I wouldn't have let him stay out there in the cold of course (or would I??? muwhahah). Eventually the car came back and they left. Why he didn't just stay at Horrible Friend's house as he usually does is anyone's guess, but I had a bit of an evil chuckle as I thought of his frustration at not being able to GET INTO HIS OWN HOUSE.
It's a cold, foggy Sunday morning and I feel wonderful. I have had no cravings since a few niggly ones last weekend when E and I were in the motel. I know this means nothing this early in the piece. My dependence, while it definitely became physical in the end, is more of an emotional and mental one and the challenge will be coping with difficulties and problems as they will inevitably occur. It's a little weird to get my head around the fact that I can never drink alcohol again, it's been such a huge part of my life for so very long. It's been my friend, my comfort, my escape. I got to the stage a few months ago, when everything seemed so hopeless and there appeared to my foggy thought process, that there was no way out, that I decided I would drink myself to death. What a great idea, solves everything for everybody. But it's not that simple is it? You don't just get drunk and die, well some do but I wouldn't have. It would have been a long, drawn out painful process for everyone involved, not least my children. This is what poison does to a mind. I really believed that my husband had me pinned down on the bed, trying to choke me. What really happened, and I have witnesses, is that he came to give me my wallet as I sat on the edge of the bed and I lunged at him and he pushed me away and I ended up on my back. The children told me later they saw me sitting on the bed pushing my own thumbs into my neck to make bruises. Why would I do that? Crazy, poisoned brain.
Enough of Friday night, although I need to keep the events in mind as a reminder of how close I came to losing my sanity, my family, my home and everything.
I am hoping that by keeping this journal, which for now is off limits to all but other "recovery" bloggers, I can unravel the reasons for my drinking and explore the events, the thought processes and the choices that led me to Friday night. I have chosen, for now, not to do rehab, and not to see a "counsellor". I have tried that, and one of the last things she said to me was that I "could have a drink". WTF? What alcohol counsellor says that? She also kept cancelling appointments. Geez I'm the drunk, that's my MO.
For now, I am concentrating on getting my body healthy and well and being gentle on myself. I know myself well enough, now the booze is leaving my system to know what I need now. I am eating too much, but mostly healthy stuff and that's okay, I know that will settle down, I've been starving myself for too long. Yesterday I made vegie and lentil soup and had corned beef and vegies for dinner. I am taking my supplements and my anti depressant and have discovered a new morning drink. I read somewhere that cayenne pepper can help with cravings, which I haven't really had, but I figured it couldn't hurt so I am squeezing a lemon into water first thing with a good dash of cayenne and having that before my morning cuppa. I am trying to get a walk every day, and dragging anyone who wants to come, with me, and am slowly getting the house back in order, while still being easy on myself and taking plenty of time to rest and think and reflect. My mindfullness skills, learned on a course I did when E was having therapy are coming back and I am finding it quite useful, funny how things stick at the back of the brain only to come to the fore when needed.
Saturday, 6 June 2015
Day Eight and What a Week.
I think I always knew that it would take something fairly drastic to make me finally stop drinking for good. I have tried many, many times over the years to stop, I have been to doctors, counsellors, even AA (that was forced on me and after every meeting I was so depressed I just wanted to find a pub). I have tried moderation (yeah, right, anyone who can drink in moderation doesn't have to "try"). Almost every bad decision, poor choice and stupid mistake has had something to do with drinking. I should have been dead several times.
This time however the shit really hit the fan last Friday night and while I am too tired to go into it right now, it involved police, a womens' refuge, my children threatening to disown me, and a close brush with jail time and homelessness. I am now court ordered to not drink basically, and it's the best thing that has ever happened to me in my life.
I didn't drink much at all until I was about 25, when my first husband left me, pregnant and with two little girls under five. Once the baby was born and things settled down I had a social life for the first time in my adult life, having married and had children so young at just 18. My ex would have the kids every second weekend and that was my time to party, and party I did. Even so the drinking wasn't all that extreme.
I met my current husband in 1993 and he liked a drink as much as I did, so now I had a live in drinking buddy, until I got pregnant with our daughter. When she died from SIDS at four and a half months that was probably a turning point for me with the amount I was drinking and it didn't get much better from there, apart from my two subsequent pregnancies.
I had been on a week's (at least) bender before the drama unfolded Friday week ago. It has taken me a week to detox, and I don't think I'm quite finished yet to be honest. At the refuge the next morning I was shaking, sick and weak. I made my way home, and stayed two nights in a motel as I wasn't allowed into my house by the terms of the AVO the police had slapped on me on behalf of my children (and rightly so). Thankfully on Monday morning the judge took pity on me and allowed me to return home, while still keeping all the other orders intact. I was never so glad to be back in my own home, with my family, who have forgiven me and are being very loving and supportive (when I really don't deserve it after what I have put them through). My appetite has returned and I am estimating a blow out to about 180kg by next week. ;) I don't care, it's nice to want to eat again, and to actually taste food, rather than always having the taste of wine in my mouth and the smell of it all over me.
It's early days, and I have been at this stage many times and know it's the weeks to come that will be the challenge for me. So this will be my journal, I hope it will help me, and perhaps later, even other people. I know I am strong, I lost my way for a long time, but the events of last weekend reminded me just how tough and strong I really am and I will get through this and come out the other side, better, healthier, happier and that will have a flow on effect on my poor hurt family.
Strange thing today, is I keep thinking I should be feeling guilty about something, I guess that had become my way of life for so long, hiding, secrets, lies, shame. But no more, I have nothing to be guilty of. Hey I should write a song about that......................
This time however the shit really hit the fan last Friday night and while I am too tired to go into it right now, it involved police, a womens' refuge, my children threatening to disown me, and a close brush with jail time and homelessness. I am now court ordered to not drink basically, and it's the best thing that has ever happened to me in my life.
I didn't drink much at all until I was about 25, when my first husband left me, pregnant and with two little girls under five. Once the baby was born and things settled down I had a social life for the first time in my adult life, having married and had children so young at just 18. My ex would have the kids every second weekend and that was my time to party, and party I did. Even so the drinking wasn't all that extreme.
I met my current husband in 1993 and he liked a drink as much as I did, so now I had a live in drinking buddy, until I got pregnant with our daughter. When she died from SIDS at four and a half months that was probably a turning point for me with the amount I was drinking and it didn't get much better from there, apart from my two subsequent pregnancies.
I had been on a week's (at least) bender before the drama unfolded Friday week ago. It has taken me a week to detox, and I don't think I'm quite finished yet to be honest. At the refuge the next morning I was shaking, sick and weak. I made my way home, and stayed two nights in a motel as I wasn't allowed into my house by the terms of the AVO the police had slapped on me on behalf of my children (and rightly so). Thankfully on Monday morning the judge took pity on me and allowed me to return home, while still keeping all the other orders intact. I was never so glad to be back in my own home, with my family, who have forgiven me and are being very loving and supportive (when I really don't deserve it after what I have put them through). My appetite has returned and I am estimating a blow out to about 180kg by next week. ;) I don't care, it's nice to want to eat again, and to actually taste food, rather than always having the taste of wine in my mouth and the smell of it all over me.
It's early days, and I have been at this stage many times and know it's the weeks to come that will be the challenge for me. So this will be my journal, I hope it will help me, and perhaps later, even other people. I know I am strong, I lost my way for a long time, but the events of last weekend reminded me just how tough and strong I really am and I will get through this and come out the other side, better, healthier, happier and that will have a flow on effect on my poor hurt family.
Strange thing today, is I keep thinking I should be feeling guilty about something, I guess that had become my way of life for so long, hiding, secrets, lies, shame. But no more, I have nothing to be guilty of. Hey I should write a song about that......................
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