(Warning: this is a tad long but if you are struggling with recovery/sobriety and can read it through it may offer something helpful- you never know!)
Well, it’s Ground Hog’s Day here in the U.S. Such a weird and crazy holiday that has somehow become normal. I live in Pennsylvania too, so Punxsutawney ( the town of origination) isn’t that far away. All my life here though and have never visited that place. i do, however, watch the movie every year. Hilarious, yet also inspiring.
If you haven’t seen it ( where have you been?lol), i highly suggest it for a bit of laughs and the endearing comedic role played by Bill Murray.
Today, as in the film, we will be digging out from one of the biggest, long lasting snow storms in a few years. It literally started snowing Sunday and is still coming down( just flurries now). It looks to be around 10 inches for my area, possibly more. But i really need to get back to work tonight regardless. I need to get out of the house.
This morning, i’ve run across a few posts about drinking during lockdown. It has me in thinking mode and is creating much conversation in my head. Specifically , the ongoing analysis of my own alcohol habits . More specifically, the ‘trifecta’ i found myself in this past week.
- recommitted to sobriety
- illness, and the fear of having Covid
- the unusually large snow storm
As they say, when it rains, it pours! ( or snows, in this case).
Here i was , newly committed to being AF when i started to get very ill. Along with processing what i knew would be a step by step endeavor, requiring all my inner strength, navigating the guilt and frustration of doing “this whole thing” over again, my anxiety grew and grew as i had to finally cave in and go get tested for Covid. I knew two things: if i did this, no matter what the result, i would be off work with no income until results came back. And secondly, if it was positive, i would be off longer. Then came the deeper realization that if it was Covid, much worse things could happen.By the 3rd day ( as some of you read) i was in full on panic and experiencing the peak of symptoms , both physically and mentally. Then, Sunday- the storm began. And it wasn’t just any storm. This one has gone on for days now , preventing almost everyone from getting to work. Isolation, on top of isolation, on top of isolation.
One cannot help to reflect on deep issues during such periods. Everything from the cost of heating to when i would see my grandkids again to how i would get through every weekend in future without alcohol to when would i ever feel better/normal again.There were no limits to my monkey mind.
It wasn’t that i craved alcohol at all. I really didn’t.There was some alcohol here( not much) but until just now i didn’t even realize it.I didn’t seek it out or dwell on how much it would “help” me through the difficulties .What i did think about( once and only briefly ) was how much i didn’t want it. How much i didn’t need it.
Weird, i know.
The acknowledgement of how many difficult times i had used this as an excuse to get drunk and numb out was a fleeting but impactful thought. One which i haven’t had the mind to pick apart until today, having a clearer mind and less symptoms and here is what i’ve come up with so far:
In the past, every week i would look forward to my nights off. It wasn’t just that i didn’t have to work, it was looking forward to drinking. Although i was unaware of it for a long time, the entire week, every week , included all the preparations for drinking. It’s often only in hindsight that we realize these things. i would subconsciously be thinking about when would be the best time to acquire my party supplies, what i would have to do before i started ( housework, errands, etc) , what i could put off until i was sober again, what i would do while i was drinking, who would be coming over, etc. Then, every week, the hangover and cleaning up my messes afterwards. This took up almost every single free hour i had off work-every.single.weekend. That’s 24-48 hours minimum x 52 weeks a year–1,248-2,496 hours per year, and that isn’t even counting extended weekends or vacation time!And this went on for about 10 years of my life. Phew! And what did i have to show for that wasted time? Maybe a few foggy memories, a few half done paintings, a few barely remembered hours with ( also inebriated) friends- nothing that added to my life. But worse, i also had the blackouts, my declining health, the fighting, the anxiety, hangovers, messy house, the guilt and cloudy mind for days after. I had the lost hours of time that could have been better spent in so many ways.
And , lest these things be of little importance to someone struggling with the decision to commit to sobriety, let me be more graphic and straightforward. Because i know from experience, thinking about what has been ‘missed’ doesn’t always hit home -at least for long.
There were days when i dreaded waking up. I would actually stay in bed out of fear & panic. What had i done? said? Who had i hurt? What don’t i remember? and yes- did i even sleep with someone?Once i did drag my carcass out of bed i tentatively searched for clues around me. How many bottles or cans were in the recycle bin? Where were my clothes- still on or strung about my room? Checking my phone- did i make any phone calls, post anything on facebook, text anyone? Surveying the absolute chaos around me including spilled drinks, food leftovers, dirty dishes, tobacco and full ashtrays everywhere.Then- i had to see myself in the mirror. As days, months, years went by, i saw my skin becoming greyish and blemished, wrinkles coming at an alarming speed. Yellow teeth, thinning hair, flabby body. Trying to look into my eyes and feel some kind of self worth was a grueling task. Next, trying to eat- being nauseous and dehydrated. Then take a bath, looking at all my ‘battle wounds’- bruises and scratches – wondering where they all came from. Feeling the aches & pains from whatever spontaneous adventures i may have tried- climbing, wrestling, punching things, even dancing around like a dervish and then falling down hard. The next day or two were absolute nightmares as i tried to collect myself to get lunch packed , dress for work and drive the 45 minutes in agony. Always, i would wonder if my clients family could tell what a wreck i was.
In this way, it was like the movie too- a repeating cycle i just couldn’t get out of and didn’t fully understand how to..searching for new excuses, vowing to dry out for a bit, then alternately telling myself “it’s not that bad- i still hold a job, have a home, pay my bills. I know of others who are worse”. Gee- what a standard to go by. Unfortunately my movie didnt end with a brand new script overnight, with the scenes of yesterday forgotten and new costars who now saw me in a new light. Because in my case, i didn’t learn each time- at least not any constructive learning.
In real life we have to chose to change our patterns, habits and everyday actions- with no promises of what comes next. We aren’t handed the end of the story and we don’t know if it will be a happy one. Everyday something new and unexpected happens, some good some bad, even in recovery. There are pink clouds and huge disappointments. It is never easy and we are not guaranteed success. It’s one day, one hour, one breath at a time.
The irony of all that has happened this past week and the fact that today i will be watching Ground Hogs Day has not been lost on me. The fact that other events this week occurred ( like watching one roomie drown herself in a bottle one night and feeling like crap the next day and knowing that the other roommate who is in AA helped her through the roughest part of it when i had to go to work) also seemed to be wake up signs.
I am reminded , very clearly of what i don’t want, what i stand to lose, how fragile this journey is, and how high the risk of failure is.
But in all of it, mostly, i thank God i made this decsion.
Today, i wont drink.
Namaste!
Wake up! 