How do people stay sober in an election year?

That's it, that is all I have to ponder today.  It would seem that to have a fighting chance for sobriety I need to tune out of of this year's election and it's endless parade of horrors.  What a clusterfuck that is, eh?

Just.  Fuck.

I was going to shut this down...

I fell apart two days ago on Day 19.  Yep.  Just a few days ago I wrote about how I was rolling right along, feeling like I got this shit handled, and two days later there was a nice bender.  Really nice.  So good that I am still feeling a bit hungover today....48 hours later.  So here I sit with my shame, wondering how stupid I looked and acted at the party I went to on Saturday night.  Wondering how poisoned I was to still feel so shitty today.  All sorts of regret, because I was so close to 20 days!

Lets think back to yesterday morning.  Day 1 (for probably the 50th time).  Woke up at 4 AM, still drunk and feeling horrendous.  Crawled out to the couch to watch TV, had some water, fought the urge to vomit (repeat for the next 3 hours).  Realized I needed some aspirin and that in order to keep it down I needed to eat something.  Had the aspirin with a small glass of kefir and spent the next two hours fighting the urge to vomit and was still afflicted with a nasty headache.  Add in the wretched, sour rummy taste in my mouth and the wretched sour mess I made in the bathroom and I looked and felt about as pretty as 5 day old roadkill in July.  Need I mention the depression, and the achy body and the lost time as I whiled away 15 hours of a beautiful Sunday laying on the couch and watching Golden Girls reruns?

Don't get me wrong, I love the Golden Girls - but laying on the couch in misery due to self inflicted rum flu for an entire gorgeous sunny day on earth is fucked up.  It just is.

I am beginning to get very, very scared because it seems that every time I get some momentum going, and then succomb to the booze again the bender is a little worse.  And I don't want to die some sort of John Bonham, Janis Joplin type of death.  I am genuinely scared of myself.  The drunk is reckless and greedy and she does not give a shit about sober me at all.

Oh yeah, and what set me off on Saturday?  What was the last straw on my sober camel's back?  Fleas.  The dog groomer called to let me know that my beloved dog had fleas and I lost it.   Spiraled out like the Tazmanian Devil.  Yesterday, as I wallowed in self-loathing I decided I was going to shut this blog down,  I kept thinking, "How humiliating to have to write about yet another Day 2, it would be too much!!"  But I have to start really looking at myself, I have to see what I really am.  And deleting the past is impossible anyway - I can shut down the blog but the events remain fact.   Maybe that can be a new tool, I will look at this whole thing every couple of days to remember what I don't want to write about any more.

So Day 2.  AGAIN.  Fucking hate this....

I hope this isn't the 'real' me yet.

So here I am at Day 16.  A full fortnight of sobriety under my belt and here is what I know so far:

1)  I feel like I totally got this schizle handled....right up until I don't.  Seriously, I am fine so long as there are no bumps in the road, and I am still no expert in preventive bump identification.  But so far, when I DO hit them I have been able to stop myself long enough to listen to a podcast. or read a sober blog, or to administer a piece of chocolate or an olive or a shot of chocolate milk, etc.  So far.
2)  I am having to say no to a LOT of things.  No more Facebook, CNN or New Yorker (esp. with this m-f'ing election in full swing).  No going to certain restaurants where I always had a mai-tai, or vodka cranberry or Captain n'diet.  Never Captain n'diet.  Never.  Just NO.  No concerts, no parties, no brunch anywhere I have ever had brunch before (because of the shady little mimosas- sneaky little bastards).  In addition there are a couple of friends I will be avoiding for at least another month.
3)  Boyfriend drinks a lot more than I realized.  This is readily apparent over the last week and it is extremely troubling.
4)  When I subtract my drinking friends from my friend total, I have very few friends.  Oddly, I am ok with this, I truly am.  Why is that?  Well, I think it is because it is going to take a while for the 'real' me to show up.  I am very excited to find out who she is, but I also know that this process is going to take a while.  I left 'real' me behind waaaaay back in high school, when I decided to become some twisted version of a chameleon.  A girl who would go to any lengths, bottle up any unwelcome emotion/reaction/opinion, twist herself up into any shape necessary to stay invisible and avoid conflict.  A girl who would happily trade self for affection.
5)  All TV shows from this decade have their characters walking through life with a glass of wine or a bottle of beer in their hand.  WTF?  How did I never notice this?
6)  It is too early to look back at all of the many, many, many mistakes and what-ifs of my life with alcohol.  Looking back at past behavior, incidents, disasters is akin to looking directly into the sun.  It burns and I know that if I contemplate all of that now, I will get a wicked case of the fuck-its.  The only way to look right now is forward, what's next, what can I contribute now?  And most importantly:  how long until I can go to bed and get to Day 17?

This is hard, but I want it more than anything.  So fuck how hard it is and do it anyway.

Two weeks down and I feel like a raw nerve.

So here I am on Day 14.  I made it through the weekend, I even got a lot done.  (I followed some sober advice from Belle and cleaned out 2 closets and went through some giant rubbermaids full of crap and donated a bunch of said crap to Savers.)  While I was doing all of that I was ok, and while I was working out I was ok.  All of the rest of the time I continued to be the Raging Bitch of the Morning from Friday whom I shall now re-name the Raging Bitch of Early Sobriety.  This morning I was in a fantastically horrid mood and took it out on my boyfriend, my dogs (who thankfully do not speak english) and anyone who had the audacity to be on the roads between 7:15AM and 8:00 AM.

To be brief, I hate this.  I hate this and I want it to stop.  I am not sure what 'this' is, and I am not really looking to drink, at least not this very second, so I have no idea what to do.  I am just so very uncomfortable.  I had a lunch date with a couple of friends yesterday.  They are running friends, so they don't drink much and they have never seen me in my fully f'ed up glory.  My running friends and my drinking friends are separate you see...   Anyhoo, the restaurant they chose does not serve alcohol.  So this should have been a fun, low stress adventure.  But I spent most of the morning being angry that I HAD to go to this lunch, I mean I was straight up put out!  How dare these women impose such restrictions on my time? Right?

See!  Raging Bitch of Early Sobriety (see also:  Ungrateful Barely Sober Bitch).

There has to be something that is scaring me, because that is where most emotional discomfort comes from, right?  So what am I so afraid of?  Or is this really just Me without alcohol?    YIKES.

Ok, well.  There are about 3-1/2 hours to go before I can go to bed (even then there will be comments from boyfriend).  I can do this.  I have to do this, and maybe Day 15 is the Day of Feeling Better.....?

Greetings from Day 11...

So far today is irritating.  I was irritated that my alarm went off, irritated that my boyfriend took forever to get out the door and we did not get to the gym before 6 AM (why get up at 4:50 if we are not going to leave the house until 5:50??), irritated that the guy in the Cadillac tailgated me for 2 miles because he felt I pulled out in front of him, irritated that all of the TV's at the gym had the Tangerine Menace front and center, irritated with Jimmy Fallon for rubbing the Tangerine Menace's hair and then acting like the douchebag was some sort of good sport for allowing it.....

You get the idea - today I was back to the Raging Bitch of the Mornin' I mentioned a couple of days ago.

But then I remembered that I had a podcast from Belle about 'irritation' to listen to, and so I did.  Now I am still all crunchy, but with the knowledge that my current status is normal for someone who has given up her bestest and favorite-est coping mechanism for 100 days, and who still has 88 days to go.   Thank you as ever Belle for being out there, you have helped more than I can express.

So yeah, 7 hours left of work, followed by a game of cards with boyfriend's family.  Not sure about that last part, I may have to bow out because cards = drinking.  There will be special get-together cocktails, there always are, and I don't think I can be there tonight.  I will decide later this afternoon because right now I am just irritated.

Did I mention my high level of irritation?     GAH!

Pleasant morning (WTF??)

So today I woke up a few minutes before the dreaded alarm went off.  Just woke up.  Just like that. I opened my eyes EARLIER THAN NECESSARY.

This is a monumental statement coming from me.  I generally loathe mornings.  I hit snooze a lot, I wait 'till the very last moment and then I run around all pissed off and crabby because I am late and my stuff is not where I thought it was, and why am I out of Diet Pepsi?, etc.  Generally, I am a rabid bitch in the morning.  Now I am not saying that I was a ray of morning sunshine today- honestly when I first realized that I was up early I was momentarily irked that I could have slept for 8 more minutes.  But I just sort of woke up, and got up, and got ready and even had time to do one of those 5 minute pre-shower workouts on Pinterest and listen to one of Belle's lovely shorty podcasts.

"On Day 9 I woke up early."  To me this sentence has a musical quality, I shall make a point to use it as a line in the epic poem I plan to write about my life (not).

In other news, I have made a point to stop looking at my phone at 8 PM.  No Facebook, no Pinterest, no headlines, no text messages.  Nada.  So far, it has made going to bed easier because I am not riled up about something I read that outraged/offended/irritated me.  I will let you know if this lasts.  I will let you know if any of this lasts...

Monday, Day 7

I made it through the weekend.  I actually made it through the weekend without having any alcohol.  Was it easy?  No it was not.  Not at all.  Belle got back to me with an opening in her Sober Jumpstart class on Friday and I am pretty sure that is the extra bit of chutzpa I needed.  Belle is the lovely human who authors the 'Tired of Thinking About Drinking' site, book and program that I have added to my arsenal this time around.  If you are contemplating a sober existence, I highly recommend a visit to her site.

But yes.  An entire weekend without alcohol.  Who knew it could be done?  And I got a lot done too, because I made sure I had a task or a chore or an errand to keep me busy until it was time to go to sleep.  I had to!   It seems that my sobriety's biggest enemy is boredom and or silence.  This is not the time for me to sit quietly and reflect.  But I can read.  Reading is escape, which I definitely seek.  Right now I am the antithesis of mindful, I am wholly unable to live in the moment at this moment.  But I will learn, I know I will learn.  When it comes to understanding how I feel - all I can do now is dip my big toe in the emotional pool now and again.

7 days without alcohol and I feel like an exposed raw nerve.  The world seems scarier - and bigger - Twice now I have cried over Facebook posts that barely merit a glance, let alone an emotional response.  Once I cried because news of the presidential election here in the US overwhelmed me with hopelessness (although I doubt I am alone there...WTF America?) and another time I cried because a lawn mower wouldn't start.

Also I learned how fucking crazy my brain is.  This morning I woke up, feeling pretty good about making it to Day 7, and the first thought that popped into my brain was, "we should celebrate after work!".  This begs two questions:  1)  Who is the other member of 'we'?  2)  What is wrong with me?

S'ok though.  I am not falling for it.  NOT TODAY.  

Hello from Day 3.  So far, so good.  I woke up in a decent mood (I actually took a moment as I woke up to appreciate NOT being hungover - and smiled) and am still not feeling panicky about 'will I make it through today'.  Here is the deal though, I am moments from the danger zone.  It is 10 minutes to 4:00, and I will leave work in a little over an hour and I will drive by my favorite 'sit by the river and drink' bar.  And it is warm and lovely out, there will be people there appearing to have fun and I will want to stop.  Just for one.  To celebrate warmth and having had a good day.

Screw that.  I will take a different longer route home, avoid the stupid scene at the river entirely and .....  feel like I might just have a drink at home.  Hmmm.

Nope.

OK.  I am going to go to the library which is nowhere near my home or the stupid bar and I am going to sit in one of the big chairs and read a cheesy romance novel until dark.  Seriously.  That is what I am going to do.  Because why not?  How is sitting at the library reading any more ridiculous than sitting by the river wasting money, time and liver function?  Then I will go home and go to bed.

I got this!  I will not drink today.  Not Today.

Back to Day 2 again.  The usual disgust, mild horror and body encompassing eye roll apply.

For this time around I will make a list of things I am really sure to miss about drinking.  As a problem drinker, a binge drinker, the little drinker that couldn't stop - I have decided to make a list of things I will miss while not being a drinker.  Here are the first 10 items:
  1)  Pretending to remember a conversation we <friend and I> had while drinking, when in all reality I have no clue what you <friend> are talking about.
 2)  Pretending that the ridiculous bruises I am constantly discovering all over my body are funny.
 3)  Sacrificing an entire tomorrow to a miserable, thought sucking hangover so that I can have a 'really good time' tonight.  (Such a good time that I won't remember most of it!)
 4)  Waking up and walking outside to the driveway to make sure the car is there, and parked straight, and not in the yard, or left running, or left with one of the doors left open.
 5)  Spending a nice, nauseous/headachy morning fishing through my purse looking for receipts to see if I can figure out where I went the night before.  And, oh yeah.....how much money did I spend?  Hopefully not more than I owe for rent!!  Gosh I love a good mystery....
 6)  Coming up with the 1 millionth excuse for why I missed a morning running date with a friend.  (Surely she has no clue that the real problem is yet another hangover, because I am an academy award winning liar pants text-excuse generating machine!)
 7)  Waking up to find an empty pan with dried up mac-n-cheese sludge in it, because I came home after drinking a shit-ton of empty calories and thought the only way to top off the night was to eat a whole box of mac-n-cheese by myself. Besides, everyone knows that cooking on a gas stove while blackout drunk is genius!
 8)  Waking up and realizing I slept on the landing of the stairs and my daughter saw me.
 9)  Repeating myself, constantly, because I don't remember to whom I have told what.
10) Not achieving goals.  I cannot even get myself to the movie theater to see a movie I wanted to see half the time, because I am too hung over from the night before, let alone achieve a long term goal.
 
Honestly, the list goes on and on.  Why on earth is this difficult to give up?  GAH!
  So yes, day 2 is today.  Again.  C'mon day three!!