Courage

Back in 2014 I at last realised I needed to stop drinking. My life was a mess. You can’t keep dancing with the devil and wonder why you are still in hell. It was time to dance elsewhere and let the go of the booze.

It was a hard thing to do especially when there will always be a small part of me that will have fond memories, or is the euphoric recall? But life was not healthy and I wanted to spend the rest of my life dancing in sobriety, completely in control of any decisions I made, good or bad.  Exhausted from all the lies, deceit, manipulation and effort involved in attempting to disguise my problem whilst continuing to feed the devil inside.

I was terrified of living without alcohol, function without alcohol. Alcohol was fuelling my depression leading me to thoughts of suicide. I was drinking on every emotion that you can name.  My self esteem and confidence a thing of the past (or so I thought).

I may have changed my lifestyle permanently but I am still me. I still enjoy the great fun things in life, the difference is that I am fully functional during these fun times and have no regrets in the morning.

Days when I feel miserable, sad, argumentative or afraid are all now feelings I can deal with SOBER, knowing that they are REAL feelings and not those caused by drinking or helped by drinking.

Today I laugh, cry, celebrate, relax, am sociable, courageous in sobriety and I am proud of it.  I never realised that I could laugh as hard sober!  Overtime I have regained my self esteem, confidence and self respect.

Life is not perfect and there are days that I wake up feeling down, crap and fed up.  BUT  I love the sober me and waking up knowing that these feelings are ME not a substance that has caused a chemical imbalance to my brain.

Laughter is greater sober (and dancing!).

SOPHISTICATED PISSHEAD!

I thought that by drinking Chablis and trendy Gin I was a sophisticated drinker, not a problem drinker, drunk, alcoholic (loud klaxon), delusional or what! Can you imagine the shock when realisation hit that the price tag or quality or alcohol is irrelevant.

I’ve stolen the title ‘Sophisticated Pisshead’ from my rehab days where I met two of my greatest recovery chums and we gave each other nicknames. One was Sophisticated Pisshead, the other Tree Frog (no idea why), and mine Cupcake because I love cake and I am as small as a cupcake, (along with the nickname Tiny Tears during therapy sessions!).

Jokes aside there was nothing sophisticated about my drinking problem, especially when I wasn’t adverse to the odd swig from the bottle of cooking sherry. Utter insanity is what it was, which is why I found myself a resident of an acute psychiatric hospital. Without this though, I’m certain that my road of destruction would had led me to either imprisonment, death or both.

It is where I was diagnosed with chronic depression and anxiety; where, after years and years of struggling, I received the understanding, help, care and support I desperately needed to rebuild my life and to give me the tools to try to repair the damage I had caused at home and to my family.

It is where I was helped to believe in myself, build my self esteem and confidence.  I went in feeling a worthless human being who wanted to die.  I came out wanting to live, and for the first time in decades actually liking myself – and I love that.

I am living testimony to the fact that there is life after booze; and a bloody good one if you are willing to work at it. Work that is required daily, some days more than others, but it is worth it. Every day is a good day if you are sober because things are always far far worse when drink is involved.

WRECK

When I entered rehab I was an emotional wreck, so much so that I earnt the nickname of Tiny Tears, (Tiny because I’m small, Tears for obvious reasons). I’ve always been emotional but this was in a whole new league. I literally cried every single day, during every single therapy session for a whole 28 days.
It became clear whilst there that there was a huge amount of my past that I had stifled for so many years. It was like a massive thunder cloud and once the first drop of rain had escaped the cloud released all the rain, there were a few rumbles of thunder too.

My healing possess was a long, arduous, painful, exhausting (and wet) one; and took a good 12 months of therapy, kindness and patience, from others and myself. I was lucky to have such a fabulous support network. My husband tethered himself to me and our children like a safety harness – for which I shall be eternally grateful.

Recently I discovered the following passage, it could have been written for me because it describes my relationship with alcohol perfectly:-

I drank for happiness and became unhappy. I drank for joy and became miserable. I drank for sociability and became argumentative. I drank for sophistication and became obnoxious. I drank for friendship and made enemies. I drank for sleep and woke up tired. I drank for strength and felt weak. I drank for relaxation and got the shakes. I drank for courage and became afraid. I drank for confidence and became doubtful. I drank to make conversation easier and slurred my speech. I drank to feel heavenly and ended up feeling like hell.

I am one of the lucky ones who has managed to rebuild their wreck. But the old wreck requires regular checks, I can ill afford to hit those rocks again and will do anything and everything it takes never to.

Bank Holiday

Bank holiday weekends for recovering alcoholics can be a problem. Being surrounded by an environment that advocates beginning the weekend ‘celebrations’ from clock off time on the Friday continuing for most pretty much all weekend. It’s hard, being bombarded by advertising, references on social media sites, supermarkets – the list goes on.

I remember my first ‘celebration season’ after coming out of rehab. It was Christmas – couldn’t have picked a bigger one! I approached it with anxious trepidation, wondering how on earth I would get through the season sober. In order to get through this I needed a plan of action, so as I had been advised in therapy I put into place a Helping Hand Contract which I gave to my most trusted family member and friends. On it I wrote a list of warning signs that could indicate I might be heading towards disaster. It included the steps I wanted them to take if I was dismissive of their concerns. This contract was signed by them and me.
An important tool for me was my support network, friends that I have made in rehab. We have a chat group and use it to express feelings and worries that could have us tumbling down the relapse road. I am extremely lucky and privileged to have these wonderful people in my life.
Further to this I also had, and still do, a code word that I say to my husband if I ever feel compromised or uncomfortable in a situation and need to remove myself from it immediately.
Be aware of potential triggers, some which may be individual to you AND stay alert for that sniper sitting and waiting patiently to strike. If needed avoid people and places that you once associated with drinking, and the social pressure of drinking.
I sincerely hope you all have a wonderful weekend and think of the benefits of three days of uninterrupted sleep. You will be starting next week feeling refreshed, bright eyed and bushy tailed. Fully dignified with no memory loss, blackouts, wondering who you upset and what you said, feelings a paranoia, guilt, shame, remorse, embarrassment, injuries, nausea, diarrhoea. All of these I am guilty of! Oh the joys (not)! It was bloody exhausting.

A Question – To Choose or Not To Choose?

Here is a something I was given in rehab that I would like to share with you.  Ask yourself the question –  “If this were a person would you want, or allow, them into your life”?

I hate anyone who has a Programme and I hate Meetings and Higher Powers.

To all who come into contact with me I wish you death and suffering.  Allow me to introduce myself;  I am the disease of addiction, cunning, baffling, powerful and endlessly patient.  That’s me!  I have killed millions and I am pleased.  I love to catch you with the element of surprise;  I love pretending that I am your friend and lover.

I have given you comfort have I not?  Wasn’t I there when you were lonely?  When you wanted to die, didn’t you call on me and I was there?  I love to make you hurt and I love to make you cry.  Better yet, I love it when I make you so numb you can neither cry nor hurt; you can’t feel anything at all and this is true glory for me.  I will give you instant gratification and all I ask is for  your long term suffering!

I’ve been there for you always, when things were going well in your life you invited me in.  You said you didn’t deserve these good things and I was the only one who agreed with you.  Together we were able to destroy all the good things in your life.

People don’t take me seriously.  They take strokes, heart attacks, diabetes, cancer and aids seriously, fools that they are, but they don’t know that without my help some of these things would not be possible.

I’m such a hated disease and yet I do not come uninvited;  you choose to have me;  so many have chosen me over reality and peace.

Your Programme, your Meetings, your Higher Power all weaken me and I can’t function in the manner I am accustomed to.  Now I must like here quietly, plotting my revenge.  You don’t see me, but I am growing bigger than ever, just biding my time, patiently waiting, waiting to kill you.

When you only exist, I live! When you live I only exist.

But I am here until we meet again —— YOU CHOOSE!

 

COMPLACENCY

This word carries a DANGER warning.

Complacency in recovery is not an attitude alcoholics can afford, it can be extremely dangerous. It can occur gradually and creep up unnoticed.  As time passes we get so used to our sober lives that we can start to put distance between our ‘new’ selves and the ‘old’ ones and the negative experiences of our drinking days.  Potentially, this can lead us to stop doing what we were doing in the beginning to become sober. It is like removing an essential ingredient from a cake recipe, the cake may finish up a disaster.

Don’t take your sober life for granted. Don’t stop doing the things that have been keeping you away from alcohol. Don’t forget how bad things were before recovery. Don’t become overly confident and believe that success at remaining sober is now assured. Alcohol is not a problem that needs fixing and once fixed means we’re cured.

Today I feel confident that I understand my deficits as well as my assets, and will act rationally.  Confident that I have, and aim to continue to build a successful life away from addiction.
This confidence is not complacency, but an attitude that if I continue doing the things that has led me to success so far they will help to keep me on this wonderful path of sobriety. I will not allow my sobriety to become a habit or taken for granted. I will continue to work to maintain it.

There is no cure for a ‘drinking problem’.  Alcohol would love nothing more than to lure you back in to its net.

HOLD ON TIGHT TO THE NOVELTY OF SOBRIETY.  It will forever be a work in progress.

 

 

ALCOHOLIC V CHOCOHOLIC

How can you tell the difference by looking at a group of individuals? You can’t; unless it is clearly obvious.   I googled the definition of both:
Alcoholic – A person addicted to intoxicating drinks.
Chocoholic – Someone who is very fond of eating chocolate.


Why does one term leave a bitter taste in people’s mouths and the other a sweet? Is it because of society’s perception and stereotyping of a alcoholic, as depicted in the image above of the person slumped at the side of the road, (or more usually the homeless person on a park bench)?   Whilst a chocoholic is someone who is fun loving, giggly, and dear I say possibly cuddly!!!

In reality however the majority of alcoholics are professional people attempting to live ‘normally’ (!!!) (Subjective!). A term also used is ‘functioning’, of which I was one; a full time working Mum. ‘Functioning’ makes me chuckle when I look back, as now its blindingly obvious to me how very badly my attempt at functioning was. There are many of my acquaintances who would be surprised to discover that I am an alcoholic.

On its most basic level addiction is an attempt to control and fulfil a desire for happiness.

Common sense should tell us that both ‘olics’ can affect anyone at any moment in their individual lives. I feel very strongly that stereotyping and the judgemental attitude of Mr and Mrs Public needs to be addressed. This, in turn, will help the millions of people who fear the label and stigma attached to their problem drinking. A problem that can vary between individuals, and does not necessarily have to be due to an excessive consumption, but more how your body and personality react to alcohol and the need for it.

Harsh realisation – addiction is not exclusive to gender, race, colour, religion, class.