tag:blogger.com,1999:blog-2406897710987285532024-03-13T22:00:16.265-07:00drymarcDrymarchttp://www.blogger.com/profile/09783317795440265252noreply@blogger.comBlogger59125tag:blogger.com,1999:blog-240689771098728553.post-69767433426115082872019-03-07T13:18:00.002-08:002019-03-07T13:18:17.204-08:007.5 years? Yeah.Still no booze, still with my loving adorable partner, I hope you are all well out there in bloggy land.Drymarchttp://www.blogger.com/profile/09783317795440265252noreply@blogger.com0tag:blogger.com,1999:blog-240689771098728553.post-66962377775492682172015-10-03T06:20:00.004-07:002015-10-03T06:20:50.023-07:00Almost 4 years.Two days from now will be my 4 years soberversary. I'm writing now because I have a couple of minutes that I might not have tomorrow or the next, and I wanted to do my annual "yep, still sober" post. After I write this, I'll probably go and read my previous posts and do some thinking.<br />
<br />
I'm really, really happy to still be sober. I have my frustrations, and I've had my struggles with anxiety and depression, but I am still convinced that no matter how hard things have gotten, they could always have been made worse by taking a drink.<br />
<br />
So, here I am today: I'm still with my amazing and huge-hearted partner, going on 7 and a half years now. I'm working at the same gym as I was this time last year as a personal trainer, and I feel like I'm settling in. I had a reasonably successful season with my rugby team, finally finding that comfort zone where I can socialize with a bunch of drunk post-match rugby people without feeling like a dork. I had one of the best summers I've had in recent memory where everything lined up to provide a relaxing and fun season. I paid for that summer with a few weeks of anxiety that I was able to manage without feeling too miserable, and with a paycheque that doesn't even come close to paying my bills let alone my tiny mountains of debt, but was worth it and I would do it again.<br />
<br />
So, what is four years of sobriety like?<br />
<br />
For anyone keeping track, I definitely still do feel nostalgic for alcohol from time to time. I have intense sense-memory experiences of a cold beer or the sharp burn of whisky or vodka, the bitter/sour tang of wine. Not often, but I do. I expect that won't ever go away.<br />
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I spend some amount of time doing the hypothetical "would I drink if...?" game. Most recently while watching a mediocre thriller about a bunch of strangers trapped in a house and told they have to kill each other. Before the killing started, they found a liquor cabinet and had a bacchanalia to live in denial of their predicament for a while. So, if I were trapped by a psychopath in a situation with no food, no escape, but a cabinet full of booze.....surely that situation couldn't get much worse by reigniting my addiction, right? With no hope for escape, and only misery ahead of me, why not dull the pain with some self-administered anesthetic?<br />
<br />
So is it hope that keeps me sober? If it is, that's a dangerous place to be, I think. I know that I experience depression, that I have been in situations where things seemed hopeless (even though they clearly were not), and I have reason to believe I could end up in that headspace - or even worse - again, just because of a quirk of brain chemistry.<br />
<br />
I need more than hope to keep me sober. Not because hope isn't useful, but because it isn't always there.<br />
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I think - and I'm not sure of this, I'm making it up as I go along - that my sobriety is borne of pragmatism. I don't know if I'm a pragmatic person, but the idea of being pragmatic appeals to me: just do what works, or if nothing works, do what fails the least. Simple. <br />
<br />
And if I'm a recovering alcoholic trapped in a house with 8 strangers and told we have to kill each other to survive and there's no escape and there's a liquor cabinet sitting there and everyone else is drowning their fear and their sorrow and their anger.....getting drunk won't help. Eventually the booze will run out (it always does), eventually I'd be left in the same spot I was before, but with a gross and moldy mouth, a headache, holes in my memory, and a now -revitalized need to drink. Even without hope of a rescue, even without hop[ing being clear-headed would let me take advantage of a slim chance of escape, staying sober is the better choice.<br />
<br />
Right?<br />
<br />
Another "game" I play, "what would happen if I accidently drank?" This is an anxiety thing that comes up, where I'll think I taste alcohol in my drink, or I'll worry that a friend who doesn't know how seriously I'm taking this sober thing will spike a drink at a party and I'll end up accidently buzzed. What then? Will my life fall apart?<br />
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I don't have much of an answer to this one, except that I can expect it would be hard, but that I would have to use all the will and determination that I used to quit this time. I don't know if I could do it another time, but I hope that I would try. And so...that means I need to keep my skills sharp. I need to remind myself WHY I'm sober. I need to always be convinced of how important it is to me.<br />
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Those are things from "what is life like at 4 years sober".<br />
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But also, I do feel like I'm growing up. Right now I do have a low-level bit of despair that unless something changes, my best case scenario will be that I pay off my debts before I die. No savings or cushy retirement for me at my current pace. But hey, drinking wouldn't help with that.<br /><br />There's that idea that we stop maturing, that our brains stop maturing, when we begin to drink. Setting aside the accuracy of it, let's imagine that my 4 years of sobriety have caught me up a little bit. Instead of having a teenager's brain, now I've got the brain of someone in his 20s. That's a big difference there. <br /><br />Hmm. I guess I've written a lot without really saying anything. But, my goal was to mark this anniversary, and I've done that. 4 years, still sober, still think it is the best thing I could be doing. I'll end this post here, and hopefully anyone reading this will take care for themselves and their loved ones, and I will see you all next year, or maybe before that, who can say....Drymarchttp://www.blogger.com/profile/09783317795440265252noreply@blogger.com1tag:blogger.com,1999:blog-240689771098728553.post-85793067385243539382014-10-05T14:15:00.000-07:002014-10-05T14:15:03.644-07:00Three YearsToday is three years after my last binge and my last drink. I'm still sober. I haven't updated in a long time (almost a year, in fact), but I'm glad I remembered my account info and password, because this blog helped me get through the first year, and because even though I'm relatively open about my alcoholic status, I can say things here that don't quite feel appropriate anywhere else.<br />
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So, my last year has seen some changes, all of them good. I'm a certified personal trainer now. I lift weights for fun and I help other people improve their health and be more comfortable in the gym. There's a lot of sales stuff in the job, which is a constant struggle because I am not a sales guy, but I do well enough to keep a full schedule, so that's nice.<br />
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Still with my adorable long-suffering partner. We've been together for 6 years and change now. I am convinced that if I had kept drinking we would not be together today. There's this scene in an early Simpsons episode where Maggie is briefly adopted by the Flanderses, and at the climax she has the choice between the Flanders family, standing in a field with rainbows and butterflies, and the Simpson family, standing in a feotid swamp with grey skies and reptiles lurking about. I feel like if I look at my life with and without booze, there's the same divide.<br />
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Obviously the foetid swamp option is the one with drinking.<br />
<br />
This year I finally felt strong enough as a sober guy to try my hand at rugby again, with mixed results. The summer brought me into contact with some of my old teammates, all of whom drink like fish. It was strange and uncomfortable...there are people from that time that I can still hang out with and there are people with whom I have absolutely nothing in common. At one point, I gave offence by refusing the round of drinks someone had bought. I mentioned I was not drinking and he said "Oh, I do that from time to time, it really helps make the buzz better when you start drinking again." I mentioned that I wouldn't ever drink again, and he said "Oh, well, you're young." So, I won't be calling that fella up any time soon.<br />
<br />
So, those sort of moments come and go. The most common thing I notice about the guys who are still drinking is how much even just 2 or 3 years has aged them. Gonna brag a bit here, and it's mostly genetics I'm sure (my own parents look great), but I'm 37 and people often - like daily - say they think I'm ten years younger. If I were still binge drinking 4-5 nights a week, I know that wouldn't be the case. This whole paragraph is irritatingly smug, but I won't erase it. So there, Internet. I'm smug about being 3 years sober and I'm not ashamed to say it.<br />
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Somewhere out there on the web is an article that says it takes about 3 years of sobriety for an alcoholic's brain to return to completely normal functioning, and that's where I am now. I have a normal functioning brain. That makes me laugh, because there's precious little that's normal and functioning about me.<br />
<br />
I still get insane cravings for booze. All summer I would almost be able to taste an ice cold beer on a hot day. I vividly remember the acid-dryness of red wine. When I gargle with mouthwash I'm reminded of the vodka burn. I wish I could say I knew I will always be strong enough to say no, but there is no certainty. And the fact that I'm not certain is exactly the reason why I have to always stay sober. There is exactly one drink standing between me and ALL THE DRINKS. So long as I can see that one drink for what it is, I should be in good shape.<br />
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Being sober is the best thing I've ever done. I wish it were different. I wish my major life accomplishment were better than "somehow I eventually learned how to avoid making all the worst possible choices," but...it's also a damned hard thing to do, too. <br />
<br />
Something I say to myself and my clients a lot: it's what we do on our worst days that gives us what we enjoy on our best days. I say this to remind people that going to the gym when you feel terrible is the only way to make sure you go to the gym all the time. Being sober on the terrible days is how I will stay sober on the good ones.<br />
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I hope everyone out there is staying safe and finding joy where you can. If you're trying to get or stay sober, I wish you all the best. It's hard but it is worth it. For some of us, it is the only way to live.<br />
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Take care,<br />
<br />
MarcDrymarchttp://www.blogger.com/profile/09783317795440265252noreply@blogger.com0tag:blogger.com,1999:blog-240689771098728553.post-45672377246763076912013-10-12T11:15:00.001-07:002013-10-12T11:15:15.901-07:002 years, 7 daysI meant to stop by on the 5th to mark my 2 year sobriety point. But I'm depressed and anxious, and busy learning that I don't need alcohol to fail at things. School is a bust right now. I had a slow, quiet meltdown during the 2nds semester and the end of term passed with me managing to not submit a single assignment to any course, and right now I am still too paralyzed by anxiety to do anything about it.<br />
<br />
The straw I'm grasping at now is that I'm going to start learning how to be a personal trainer, like at a gym. I've been on the sober road and the fitness road for the same length of time, and it's clear to me that one hinges on the other, and so I have a hope that working in that industry will be fulfilling to me while also paying rent.<br />
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I think about this blog a fair bit, as well as my Zombunist blog (which will see a revival here, as the host I moved to is now defunct), so maybe I will start posting more. I'm working part-time these days, but I feel that I should start treating my home office like a home office, eg, with a schedule and daily responsibilities and so on. Should that happen, I think having a weekly blog post (or bi-weekly if I split time between here and Zombunist) will be a part of it.<br />
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In sober news, well, still sober. I managed to quit weed for 8 months (January to August, with 2 "relapses" while on vacations), then started smoking a lot of it hardcore until about 2 days ago. I haven't decided yet if I'm quitting again. It wreaks havoc with my life, though not as much as booze ever did, so I need to either manage my use or avoid it all together. I am in serious denial about how difficult it is for me to say no to pot. When the subject comes up, I get snippy, which is a sign to me that I'm not being honest with myself.<br />
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I still have drunk dreams, though not very often. At my lowest points I've certainly been tempted. But so far, I've been able to remind myself that I have no control, and that the only reason I ever do want to drink is to get drunk. And once I'm drunk, I'm a timebomb.<br />
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These days I'm questioning everything about myself and what I want. I don't know what I want. I'm not even sure that what I've wanted in the past even makes sense. I don't even know if any of this ("this" being my life and what I do with it) matters. I've got no purpose, and I feel like even if I had a purpose I would not be equipped to take on the challenges involved. This is not a fun place to be.<br />
<br />
But. Still sober. Let's see what my 3rd year of sober adulthood brings me.Drymarchttp://www.blogger.com/profile/09783317795440265252noreply@blogger.com1tag:blogger.com,1999:blog-240689771098728553.post-90754770837891126222013-04-02T14:41:00.002-07:002013-04-02T14:41:15.714-07:00Time and SobrietyI'm still here, and still sober. Things are going well. Sometimes it doesn't feel like they are, but that's a matter of perspective. I'm in school now, I have a part-time job that I can handle, I start meeting with a psychologist tomorrow to get a handle on my anxiety, I'm in better shape physically. I'm doing okay.<br />
<br />
I think tomorrow marks 18 months of being sober for me. I've also been truly sober (no pot) since January 1st 2013...my New Year's Resolution (one of them, anyway) was to give up pot for a year. This is the longest I've ever gone since my childhood without being intoxicated. It feels good. I want more of it.<br />
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I've had some crazy nightmares where I find myself drinking, I wake up horrified and ashamed, once the dream was so real that I was sure I <em>had</em> been drinking and just blacked out. These dreams are unsettling, but they remind me why I'm doing this. No matter what, no matter how long I stay sober, I know that I cannot handle even one drink. Those dreams are an alternate-universe version of me, a universe where I fail more than I succeed, and what's worse, a universe where I've given up on trying.<br />
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I'm lonely, but it's a good sort of lonely, I think. I'm using this time to figure myself out, to build up my foundations that were shaky or never built to begin with. I <em>like</em> being this kind of lonely, most of the time. But it's still a loneliness...I still find myself longing for people who understand what I'm feeling and what I'm going through. These sober blogs are the closest thing that's come to that (since I don't do groups). I want to find a bunch of weight-lifting buddies, actually, because there's a lot in the fitness community that's affirming for a sober lifestyle...but it's hard to find my niche, because drunk or sober, I'm an oddball. Also, I've got issues with straight jocks, on account of my having grown up a gay nerd....natural enemies in the grand scheme of things (though I know there are exceptions out there).<br />
<br />
I wonder why I'm feeling so melancholy while I write this?<br />
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I'm in a new and different phase of being sober, though, from my first year. I know that I can't ever drink, and that's not as important-seeming as it once was: there's so much more to life than booze, which I always knew but never really felt before now. And I have a new perspective on time...I guess not washing away memories with alcohol every other day helps to show just how MUCH time there is, really. <br />
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My first ex and I had dinner the other night, for the first time in almost 10 years (I should say here that things are lovely with my current boyfriend....almost 5 years of being together now, and I'm very happy with him, as happy as I could ever imagine to share my life with someone). We ran into each other on the street, he told me that he is going in for heart surgery, and asked if I'd like to have dinner with him (no nefarious scheme involved: he is engaged to someone). I think he wanted some closure, and while it's been a while since I felt I needed anything from him, I did feel like it would be fitting to see how he is. <br />
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The 4 years that we dated, we drank. We drank like fish. He introduced me to the "Texas Mickey", and we polished one off of whiskey between the two of us in a weekend. We were late to his best friend's dad's funeral because we were hungover. We celebrated the beginning of the year 2000 by getting wasted and having a HUGE fight over Babe 2: Pig in the City. The night we broke up, he threw a glass vase at me that shattered all over the floor, and punched a hole in the door of our apartment before I called the police on him.<br />
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We only glossed over the fact that I'd been sober for 18 months. He was still drinking, and he assured me that he never drank that much these days. Maybe not....but in other ways he hasn't changed much. He told me how at his last job he got so frsutrated that he punched a hole in the office wall. He kept saying how much he'd changed, how he had things figured out, how I wouldn't even recognize his life....he said those same things all the time when we dated 10-15 years ago. He has a big heart, but he always seems to be stuck in a loop, where he is always learning "so much" about himself, but it's always the same lessons.<br />
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I'm painting a terrible picture of him, and at least some of it must be because I feel comflicted about our relationship, and about some things about myself. Have I changed? I think I have....but how do I know? I feel like I'm more mature, but am I in the same loop? Am I any better? <br />
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My sobriety is based in a few different motivations. There is a part of my being sober that comes entirely out of a survival instinct, and I think my first year of being sober was guided by that, a fear that my drinking would lead me to death, either of myself or of all my dreams and my self. Now, though, there is also a desire to be a better person. I want to do right by the people I love and the people who love me. I want to contribute to society in a meaningful way. I want to be a good person who can be proud and happy with the way he lived. I am in a new stage of my sobriety. The questions are bigger, but they are good questions. I'm willing to stay sober and figure out the answers to these questions, because I have a feeling that it will be so very much worth it.Drymarchttp://www.blogger.com/profile/09783317795440265252noreply@blogger.com0tag:blogger.com,1999:blog-240689771098728553.post-85784419826694800172012-12-05T06:00:00.001-08:002012-12-05T06:00:21.655-08:00Sober at the GymStill sober, at 14 months. <br />
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Judging from the blogs I've read, it's about at this point that a lot of ex-drunks decide to take on some giant challenge, usually physical in nature, like running a marathon or entering a triathalon, and I guess I'm falling in line. I want to be a bodybuilder.<br />
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So, okay, maybe that's a little bit out of left field, but I've always been "into" muscle. My parents got me a weight set to use in high school, and I've had a gym membership my whole adult life, though whether or not I used the membership depended on whether or not I was hungover. Last year, one of the reasons why I wanted to quit drinking was that I've always wanted to be in better shape, but I knew that drinking was keeping me from doing that. At the time I quit drinking I also made a commitment to go to the gym as consistently as possible, and, with a few ups and downs, I've managed to do that.<br />
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Right now, I'm 30lbs lighter than I was this time last year, and I've lost about 8 inches off my hips and 7 inches off my waist...I'm not shaped like a barrel anymore, and I feel like I've barely been trying. I've also started learning about the bodybuilding lifestyle, and the more I learn the more I realise: I want in.<br />
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For me, a huge part of getting and staying sober is setting up positive routines. A lot of these are physical, so excercising regularly, eating well, getting enough sleep (and these are the key factors in bodybuilding). I've seen that when my routine is disrupted, my mood goes downhill, and thoughts about self-destructive behaviours like drinking creep back in. What has always pulled me back, each time that I've felt myself slide, has been getting back to the gym. In all honesty, the gym might as well be my AA, my "higher power", because when I go it's an hour or so completely free of worry or angst, and just getting the blood pumping improves my mood pretty much for the whole day.<br />
<br />
The trick to sobriety and to bodybuilding is the same: consistency. To be sober, I have to be sober every day. To build muscle, I have to eat well, sleep right, and excercise regularly. With both, you can't rely on history or hopes for the future to succeed, the only thing you can do is make the right choices in the moment, and let the past and the future take care of themselves.<br />
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So, I've hired a personal trainer (hired him in September, actually...and he's great), I'm reading what I can, and I'm setting goals, and maybe, in 3-4 years, I might actually find myself on a stage in some amateur competition.<br />
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This year, the second year of my sobriety, is going to be a big one: I'll be in school full time, I'll be working towards this new goal, I feel like year two is the year to dream and act big, and to take on giant challenges that I could never have dreamed of when I was drinking. Any of us who've been sober know that your world opens up when you look past the bottle, and now is the time to find out just how huge my world is now. Where are my limits? I don't know, but I'm excited to find out.Drymarchttp://www.blogger.com/profile/09783317795440265252noreply@blogger.com3tag:blogger.com,1999:blog-240689771098728553.post-46641482155038784102012-10-23T08:16:00.004-07:002012-10-23T08:16:54.114-07:00Super BrainStill sober. Most of the time, this isn't even a big deal. Having made it through a year has shown me that I have everything I need to stay sober. I've survived the seasons, the holidays, the annual ups and downs, and managed everything without a drink. Now I just have to keep doing the stuff I've been doing, using what works and discarding what doesn't, and keep it up. It does take energy to live a sober life, but it takes MORE energy to live a drunk one, so I'm ahead of the game.<br />
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In general, though, there isn't much to say. I plan to keep this journal forever, because my life will always have moments where the difference between drinking and staying sober seems interesting to me, or moments where I'll need to let out a primal scream to the internets about frustration. One day I'll tell my mom something about my drinking, maybe, and I'll blog about that. Or when I visit my step mom who likes her wine very much, I'm sure that will inspire an entry or two. But in the meantime I don't have much to say.<br />
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Oh, except that I think being sober has given me a super-power: incredible intelligence. Not really, but I've been feeling somewhat smart lately. Part of it is that I had my final exam for a psychology course I took over the summer, and got a 95% on it (and I finished it in 25 minutes - 80 multiple choice questions, with time to review), but just in general I've been feeling more bright, a little more swift in my thinking. I like it.<br />
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I heard somewhere that it can take about 4 years for the brain to completely recover from prolonged alcohol abuse: it takes that long for the synapses and support cells and connections to get to a place where the brain works just about as well as it would have without killing all those brain cells. If so, I've had a full year of my brain rewiring itself, growing back where my drinking had pruned it. I've also been more physically active and eating more healthfully, which also have a positive impact on cognition. It's been a subtle change, but I like this new me. I'm better able to understand complex things like relationships, I can see other peoples' points of view better, I'm better equipped to handle anger and frustration and - especially - boredom.<br />
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Who knows how much this is just psychosomatic, a placebo effect where I feel smarter because I want to feel smarter, but I like feeling this way, and I intend to enjoy it.Drymarchttp://www.blogger.com/profile/09783317795440265252noreply@blogger.com1tag:blogger.com,1999:blog-240689771098728553.post-10123964229109776622012-10-06T06:04:00.000-07:002012-10-06T06:04:13.147-07:002000!As an added bonus, yesterday I crossed the "2000 page views" marker. I know that's nothing on the internet, but it made me feel good to see the numbers creep up.<br />
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And the rest of yesterday went fine, I don't know why I was making such a fuss. The boyfriend and I shared a toast, and then later on I went over to a friend's house where a few of us hung out and watched TV and talked. It was nice.<br />
<br />
And that's all I have to say for myself this morning. Happy Canadian Thanksgiving, everyone!Drymarchttp://www.blogger.com/profile/09783317795440265252noreply@blogger.com0tag:blogger.com,1999:blog-240689771098728553.post-81627162930933107512012-10-05T09:43:00.001-07:002012-10-05T09:43:09.071-07:00One Year SoberWell, the internet makes everything better, I guess. Writing my post last night, and getting comments here and at a forum (unrelated to drinking) that I frequent, plus a healthy hour of yoga this morning (I am one of "those guys" now, with the yoga mat. This could be a horror story for hard core drinkers: if you ever stop drinking, <em>this</em> is what you become! Muhahaha!) have improved my mood. I'm not so much sad anymore as "contemplative" and "introspective" and "meditative" or something. I can ease back into feeling kind of melancholy again, but I'm also well-placed to ease into "content" or "pleasantly centred," so I'll take that.<br />
<br />
*<br />
<br />
Just over a year ago, I flew back home to Halifax for my brother's wedding. I was still drinking, and if you had told me that in less than a week I would begin my longest period of sobriety in my adult life, I would have been extremely skeptical. I'd been thinking about my drinking a lot, but not in any specific way. I was coming off of a very difficult summer where all of the high points had turned out to be low points, and I was not very happy.<br />
<br />
Despite the fact that no one involved in the wedding had any idea what was going on until the very last minute, it was a beautiful day in the end. The bride was 25 minutes late, as is her right, and she was beautiful. My brother looked like my brother, a bit of a cad, but one in a tux at least, and a gentle and caring and funny guy, like he's been his whole life. My mom, who is a minister, officiated the ceremony, I read a poem, they said their vows, we took pictures all over the church and then us wedding party people went off to take more pictures before the reception, and everybody had a good time.<br />
<br />
Afterwards, us guys went back to my brother's place to chill for an hour (turned out to be three hours) while the bride, my new sister-in-law, got ready with the maids of honour. Us guys shared some pot, had a beer or two, and toasted my brother and shook our heads, amazed at what he'd gotten himself into. When the bride was ready, we regrouped, took more pictures, and then it was reception time.<br />
<br />
And then, for me, the whole day went downhill. First, I had to moderate my drinking, because I had to give a speech for my side of the family, and I wanted it to be a good one (and I hadn't written it yet!). I watched as everyone got tipsier and tipsier, and I just nursed my drinks, getting drunk, but not as drunk as I wanted to be. Not even close to that drunk I wanted to be.<br />
<br />
I gave my speech, and it was good, and then, suddenly, I felt stuck. I was anxious. I was hyper-aware of myself. I had to represent the family. I couldn't get loaded, what if I did or something awful? But I wanted to drink. I wanted to drink so badly. The whole evening, the only thing, the <em>ONLY</em> thing I could think about was how much I wanted to get drunk, to just leave that party, go someplace private, and drink until I got where I wanted to be. I hated everyone who was drinking. I hated everyone who wasn't drinking. Every thought I had was twisted by wanting a drink. I was miserable.<br />
<br />
Eventually, my boyfriend and I went back to our hotel room, and the next day we flew back home to Toronto. I felt awful and guilty and horrible. What had just happened? My little brother had just gotten married to a truly wonderful woman (I love my brother, but there is a very convincing argument for the idea that she is a little bit better than he might deserve), I'd had a chance to connect with family I hadn't seen in years, everything about the day had been perfect....and I had felt miserable. What was wrong with me?<br />
<br />
I knew it was the drinking. Weddings are crazy, stressful, emotionally charged events, but I knew deep down that none of that mattered. What mattered was that I was miserable only because I had felt like I couldn't pour enough booze down my throat. What mattered was that if given a choice between that wedding or staying at home getting drunk, I knew which I would truly prefer. I vowed that day, my first day back, a Sunday, to moderate my drinking and get it under control.<br />
<br />
But then, three days later, Wednesday night, the night I liked to watch Survivor on TV, I bought a 12-pack of beer and was getting drunk by myself again, as if I'd learned nothing at all. I don't even remember how I made the decision, but at some point that evening, I stood up, walked to the calendar in the kitchen and wrote "last drink" on it. It was October 5th.<br />
<br />
*<br />
<br />
Since then, I've had to face the truth. There is no "moderation" for me. There is no "getting this under control." If I drink, I lose control. that's a fact. It's a hard fact, but I can't change it.<br />
<br />
On the surface, I don't know how much has changed. I'm not suddenly living in a mansion or getting promotions left and right. I'm actually unemployed, so, maybe there's a cautionary tale somewhere in this, ha ha. But I do feel better. Overall, averaged over the year, I'm better. My first entry I said I wanted to be a better person, to be smarter and more caring, to be successful in my career and my relationships. I left my job, but that was to pursue my education, and I think that was a good choice. I think I'm meeting those goals. I think I am smarter, more caring, and I think my relationships are stronger, too.<br />
<br />
I am better.<br />
<br />
*<br />
<br />
This morning, my boyfriend left a note on my computer's keyboard. It says, in part:<br />
<br />
<blockquote class="tr_bq">
CHEERS to a full year of sobriety! I am so impressed with your control, discipline, and self-care. I am glad you've found the love for yourself required to stay strong for a full year.<br />
</blockquote>
I am caring for myself. I am learning to love myself. I am discovering strength and discipline within myself.<br />
<br />
This is what a year of sobriety feels like. It wasn't as bad as I was afraid it would be. There were pleasures and surprises I never expected to find. I am learning what living really means, and how precious my life really is, and I'm learning to savour and respect the moments I have, because each one is unique and special and will never come again. I am learning to see and feel beyond the superficial, to not be as afraid of the depths. I am learning wisdom.<br />
<br />
Looking back, one year seems like such a short time, and the year ahead feels like it could last forever. I'm eager to learn what a second year of sobriety is like, what surprises and lessons the universe has in store. What will I learn, about myself, about the world? What next?<br />
<br />
My name is Marc, and I am still Dry.Drymarchttp://www.blogger.com/profile/09783317795440265252noreply@blogger.com3tag:blogger.com,1999:blog-240689771098728553.post-67659098599053708132012-10-04T17:38:00.001-07:002012-10-04T17:38:23.588-07:00Pre-Sober EveTomorrow is my 1 year anniversary of my last drink. Tonight I don't have anything inspirational to say. In fact, I just went for a walk just to get out of the apartment because I'm feeling....I don't know, hollow? Kind of?<br />
<br />
On my walk, I passed by the wine store. It's doors were open and a couple of people were laughing together as they left. Inside, it was bright and inviting. I passed by the millions of bars in my neighbourhood, filled with people enjoying one of the last days on the patio before winter strikes, clinking glasses and catching up with friends. I went to the grocery store, where the new liquor store happens to be, one of the few that I've actually been in since I decided to be a sober person full-time.<br />
<br />
At the grocery store, I bought some turkey burgers and, because I have this sad, hollow kind of feeling, two bottles of flavoured sparkling water. I think that sparkling water companies should market to us sober people. I think sparkling water just might have saved some lives...or at least livers.<br />
<br />
Tonight I will drink of the pomegranate sparkling water, and tomorrow, the day I've chosen as my true anniversary (I'm celebrating my "last drink" instead of my "first full day sober"), I'll have the Italian Lemonade, and this will be fine.<br />
<br />
So, I'm sad for a few reasons, but I'm still going to raise a glass to me. Because my being sober is nothing to be sad about. I've done a year, and I hope to do many, many more years, and I hope this one was the hardest.<br />
<br />
Tomorrow I'll write a real post, instead of this place-holder. But if you're reading this, and you have a glass of sparkling water nearby, feel free to raise your glass with mine, in recognition of this lonely, strange, and brave journey we're on.Drymarchttp://www.blogger.com/profile/09783317795440265252noreply@blogger.com2tag:blogger.com,1999:blog-240689771098728553.post-82356474406110475772012-09-21T13:11:00.001-07:002012-09-21T13:11:59.528-07:00Clear sailingI'm going to try to be brief today, mostly because I don't have much to complain about, but I do have an observation.<br />
<br />
The hardest parts of sobriety are when the problems just keep piling on and there's no end in sight. Even if I know intellectually that the hard times are temporary, even if I know the exact date when I won't have to worry about the problems, it can still seem like my problems will last forever. Every step I have to take feels like slogging through knee-deep mud.<br />
<br />
The <em>best</em> parts of sobriety, though, are the moments like right now, when the problems get resolved and I'm sober enough to enjoy them. I found out today that my student loan has been approved and so I should be all set to start school in January. This was THE biggest worry for me since I made the decision to go back in June, so right now having it resolved is....really, really nice.<br />
<br />
It's nice because I succeeded, but it's even more nice because I know that I weathered a fair amount of stress without having a drink. When I told myself, during those dark moments, that nothing lasts forever, I was telling myself the truth. I can use this to reinforce myself against doubts the next time I'm in a tough place.<br />
<br />
If something like this had happened a year ago, tonight would involve me going out and getting drunk. Strangely, I don't want to do that at all. It's <em>more</em> than enough to enjoy this relief and satisfaction with my faculties intact. The next few days (before I have to buckle down and study for an intro psych exam for a course I took over the last couple of months) I can really relax and focus on other things.<br />
<br />
At any rate (I hope I'm not jinxing myself here), I have 2 weeks to go until my first year anniversary sober, and I'm pretty sure it's gonna be smooth sailing until then.Drymarchttp://www.blogger.com/profile/09783317795440265252noreply@blogger.com2tag:blogger.com,1999:blog-240689771098728553.post-55430721601515955352012-09-12T19:00:00.001-07:002012-09-12T19:02:01.749-07:00"I only saw you drink beer."Today was a frustrating day in being sober. I was out with a very close friend for dinner, just to reconnect. She's been having a rough time of it. We met as co-workers, and we actually left our jobs within a month of each other, so the ups and downs we've had to face have sometimes mirrored each other. She's been crucial for me to talk about some of my work-related, job-hunting-related, and life-is-stressful related things, and I try to be there for her in the same way.<br />
<br />
She'd had a terrible day at work, and so she ordered a drink to take the edge off. I happen to know that she isn't quite comfortable with my sobriety so I saw that there were "non-alcoholic slushies" and I ordered a peach one "in solidarity." A few sips in, though, and I felt like something wasn't right. What if the waitress had misheard me or the person who made the drink had misunderstood? Was there rum in my drink? I honestly couldn't tell. I started to feel a little light-headed and worried that it was the beginning of a buzz. I asked my friend to taste it, but she said she couldn't taste anything alcoholic. I ended up calling the waitress over and asked her, but she promised me that it was a non-alcoholic drink, as I'd ordered, and that she'd been there when it was made: just slush and syrup blended together, but she'd be happy to get me a new one if I wanted. I said that was fine. I could trust her, right?<br />
<br />
I tentatively took another sip, and this time I couldn't taste any alcohol, just super-sweet peach syrup. My light-headedness was passing and it occured to me that it might have been a symptom of my panic*. Even so, I had to set the drink aside for a while because I just didn't trust it. Having it in my eye-line was kind of upsetting to me in a weird way.<br />
<br />
After the waitress left, I apologized for my little ex-alcoholic freak out, and she said something like, "You aren't really an alcoholic, though, are you? I've only ever seen you drink beer."<br />
<br />
Like I said, this friend is very close to me, and I love her always, but the only times I ever get frustrated with her is that she's made comments like this before, and I feel like I have to do "alcoholism 101" with her every 3 months or so. <br />
<br />
So, I explained that it doesn't matter if it's beer or not, I'm addicted to the alcohol, not the delivery method. I explained how I would monitor what and where I drank, so that <em>most</em> people only ever saw me drink beer, but that I usually had a big ol' bottle of vodka or whisky somewhere at home. I explained that when I said a 12-pack of beer would last me to the weekend, the truth was that 10 of those beer would be gone the first night and I'd suppliment the 12-pack with a six pack the next day (or else the vodka). I told her about how I was stealing booze from my parents and getting a regular buzz on every weekend from about age 14 or 15, and how 3 to 5 nights out of the week I'd just stay home and get drunk, even if I'd told myself I wasn't going to do that. I explained that even if I had one drink by accident, as soon as that drink was done, I would be craving the next one until I was drinking all the time again.<br />
<br />
All this explaining happened in a conversation, and it was nice to vocalize my reasons for being sober again. But still....it's frustrating. Frustrating because it's not fun to have a booze-related panic attack in public, frustrating because I didn't necessarily want to "out" myself to the waitress (she was totally cool), and frustrating because sometimes I wish this didn't set me apart so that I could be so casually reminded of how different I am, just from one careless phrase.<br />
<br />
And most frustrating, is that even though I know I'm not drunk, even though I'm confident the drink was booze free, I had no lasting buzz other than that (possibly panic-induced) moment of light-headedness...even though there's no evidence at all that there was any alcohol in the beverage at all, there's still a part of my brain going "....but what if it was....what if you just drank alcohol...what if your sobreity is back to day one...."<br />
<br />
That, my friends, is frustrating.<br />
<br />
<br />
*I'm using the word "panic" but it occurs to me that this was more of an anxiety attack. People who've had both know that there's a BIG difference between the two, so just replace the word "panic" with anxiety if you're sensitive to that difference.Drymarchttp://www.blogger.com/profile/09783317795440265252noreply@blogger.com3tag:blogger.com,1999:blog-240689771098728553.post-84019491159843028562012-09-06T08:02:00.005-07:002012-09-06T08:02:59.493-07:00Working it outI still have my 2011 calendar, kicking around somewhere under all my piles of stuff. A few weeks ago my boyfriend asked if he could throw it out and I said "No!" as if I was afraid 2011 would come back again at the same time as a total collapse of the naked man calendar industry (I buy naked man calendars. It's my concession to my gayness). The reason I gave was that I've been tracking the days I go to the gym since October of last year, and I want to have a physical reminder of that accomplishment, which is true, but only partly. That calendar also has the day on October 5th where I wrote "last drink."<br />
<br />
It's not a coincidence that I made a commitment to go to the gym regularly around the same time as giving up booze. Part of giving up drinking was a realization that my life was going in the wrong direction, that I was on track towards meeting absolutely none of my life's goals, and while I'm sure no one ever gets to follow ALL of their dreams, it seems pretty sad to have made no progress on ANY of them. To have barely even tried? That was shameful. Drinking had to go.<br />
<br />
So, I gave up drinking to get in better shape. But what I didn't really grasp was how getting in better shape would help me to keep from drinking.<br />
<br />
To anyone in their early days of recovery: get active. It doesn't matter what you do: swim, jog, join a softball league, go for walks with a neighbour, work out with a Wii fit in the privacy of your home, learn to skate or ski or horseback riding or frisbee (...er..."flying disc"), play catch with your kids or rugby with your mates. The activity and making it a routine will save your sanity.<br />
<br />
I started this week with a personal trainer, and while my life is still a train wreck right now, my mood is much, much improved over last week. I still have all my problems (and in two weeks, my automatic withdrawal for the trainer might not go through, har de har), but being in this much pain (I mean, these guys are sadists!) has really cheered me up.Drymarchttp://www.blogger.com/profile/09783317795440265252noreply@blogger.com3tag:blogger.com,1999:blog-240689771098728553.post-67567869503142054972012-09-05T14:08:00.002-07:002012-09-05T14:09:53.686-07:0011 monthsI'm 11 months sober, which puts me in new and unfamiliar territory. My last significant time not drinking only lasted about 11 months (I don't remember the exact length, so "11 months" is what I decided on), and that was almost a decade ago. From here on (plus or minus a few days), I will be sober for the longest time in my life.<br />
<br />
Unlike that last time, I'm not ambivalent at all about being sober. Sobriety is a good thing for me, and drinking is a very bad thing for me. If the question ever comes up "how do you know you can't just moderate your drinking, now that you broke your habit?" I thankfully have that relapse as an example. Back then, the idea was to drink in moderation and never end up an alcoholic. It took me basically zero time to ramp up my drinking to pre-abstinance levels, and then I wasted at least 7 years of my life as a drinker. I don't want to waste another 7 years for another relapse: that relapse was my last.<br />
<br />
It's a good thing, too. I'm depressed. Today, things are looking up 'and maybe tomorrow will be better, but for the last 2 weeks, maybe even the last few months, there's been a cloud hanging over me. This last month there's been a fair bit of disappointment and concern for me and my partner, and the stress is wearing on me. I have moments where things seem hopeless, and the bulk of my time I feel like I'm trudging through a swamp, just putting a foot in front of the other, with no idea if this swamp really has an end. It sucks.<br />
<br />
But being sober is not a question. On this front, whether I'm happy or sad, healthy or depressed, I can be a little bit confident. I feel like I've done my homework (not to say I get to stop: there's always homework). I've put a lot of effort and thought into why I'm doing this, and I've trained myself to understand that drinking is not an option. I know that no matter how difficult my life is at any given time, there is nothing so bad that a drink can't make it worse. Maybe I'll continue to be depressed, maybe I'll end up worse off next year, maybe I'm on a slow-motion trainwreck and there's nothing I can do to stop it. That may all be true, but I know that if I relapse, whatever horrors that are in store for me will seem like a picnic compared to what I'll face as a drinker.<br />
<br />
I had a conversation today with a good friend, and she kept apologizing for her yawning. She said that she's been drinking a lot more because of the stress in her life, and so she was up late last night having some wine and that's why she was tired today. I get it, I understand. I didn't really get into it with her, because I don't feel like I can comment when someone else talks about their drinking (because if they're "normal" their experiences and my experiences with booze are VERY different, and if they're like me, there's nothing I can say that they'll listen to until they're ready), but what I thought to myself was "Can you imagine dealing with all this stuff AND being hungover and sleep-deprived??" It was a reminder of the life I've given up.<br />
<br />
When I look for reminders of why I'm sober, I find them, because they're all around me. I do need to continue working on this, because like physical muscles, my sobriety muscles can atrophy with time, but as far as this sober thing goes, I'm in a very good place. I didn't expect the "unfamiliar territory" of sobriety past 11 months to feel like this: it feels pretty comforting.<br />
<br />
*<br />
<br />
Oh! And shout out to <a href="http://livingwithoutalcohol.blogspot.ca/">Mrs D</a> on her 1 year sober anniversary!! Congrats!Drymarchttp://www.blogger.com/profile/09783317795440265252noreply@blogger.com5tag:blogger.com,1999:blog-240689771098728553.post-37923854137200930742012-08-31T17:18:00.000-07:002012-08-31T17:18:04.035-07:00Cottage DebriefWell, I'm back from my week at a friend's cottage, and I'm still sober. Victory!<br />
<br />
I'm not going to lie, there were some really tough, really challenging moments during the week. Camping and cottaging are big-time triggers for me, I guess. I think it's because when I was drinking, these type of vacations were when I would give myself absolute permission to let loose: start with alcohol-infused coffee in the morning, maybe mimosas or a pre-lunch beer, and work my way up to the hard stuff for the campfire bits...and do this the whole week.<br />
<br />
It started even before I left. While I was shopping for snacks for the trip up, I found myself tempted by the no/low-alcohol beer section in the store. That was a warning sign. I'm not sure if drinking fake beer would trigger my addiction responses or not, but I'm not eager to test my mettle. Testing myself is a really good way to earn a relapse. What if I try a cold fake beer and find out that I really, really miss the real thing?<br />
<br />
At the cottage, it was really hard the first morning to watch everyone share my partner's Bailey's. My boyfriend even got himself drunk before 11am. I found myself missing that devil-may-care attitude. Later, when we went for a supply run to the nearby town, I found myself in the liquor store, surrounded by so much booze. Still, I stayed strong.<br />
<br />
The parts where I was tempted were really difficult, and I did find myself wondering if it was always going to be that hard. And, maybe it will be, but I stayed sober anyway. And there were moments that week where it was really, really good that I did.<br />
<br />
One night, we were playing boardgames and my partner, who was a bit tipsy, lost his temper and snapped at me. It happens. But in the moment, when I was about to lose my temper back at him, I was able to pull back. I had a moment where I was able to see past how angry and hurt I was and instead of hurting him back by saying something vicious and quitting the game, causing a scene in front of all of our friends, I just gave myself some time to just collect myself and less than 5 minutes later, everyone was back to having fun (and I won that game, too). That <em>could not</em> have happened if I'd been drinking. Being sober gave me a chance to reflect on my feelings, and I was able to bring it up with my boyfriend later when we were both calm, and we talked through it. Maybe that's what life is like for everyone most of the time, but I really felt like a superhero in that moment.<br />
<br />
On the last day, getting a drive back into town to catch our bus, I suddenly remembered the year before, and how grumpy I'd been on the whole ride home, mostly because I was hungover and had gone on a ridiculous bender the night before. This time, there was no guilt, no shame, no physical or psychological sickness.<br />
<br />
When I started my sober thing 11 months ago, I knew this trip to the cottage would be a challenge. I was afraid of it. I'm really, really glad to have it behind me, and to know that I succeeded. It`s one more milestone on this new path. I've got other challenges ahead of me (and leave it to <a href="http://byebyebeer.wordpress.com/2012/08/31/it-starts-with-a-sign/">byebyebeer</a> to post about relapse warning signs, just in the nick of time), but right now I've earned myself a pat on the back.Drymarchttp://www.blogger.com/profile/09783317795440265252noreply@blogger.com2tag:blogger.com,1999:blog-240689771098728553.post-5578262603221465842012-08-19T12:47:00.006-07:002012-08-19T12:47:53.408-07:00VacationI am officially on vacation. I am also unemployed, so it suggests the question: "How do I know I am on vacation and not just being lazy?"<br />
<br />
I don't really have an answer to that, except that I have given myself permission to not worry about anything until September 1st, and then at that time I will worry about everything.<br />
<br />
We're actually going to a friend's cottage for a week, leaving Wednesday, which will really help with the "not worrying" part. I'm looking forward to it, even though there's a little bit of worry about the not-drinking thing. I shouldn't worry about that, as the people I will be hanging out with are not big drinkers. What I <em>will</em> miss is the tradition of waking up and having "special coffees" in the morning (with Bailey's). I'm going to get myself some sort of flavoured creamer (non-alcoholic) so that I can pretend that's what I'm doing. I usually drink my coffee black, so having something else in it will give me the illusion of something special.<br />
<br />
What I will NOT miss is the constant monitoring of everyone else around me to decide if I can drink more without setting off anyone's "is he drinking too much?" meters.<br />
<br />
Other than the cottage, I am also reading/working through a book by Sarah Domet called <u>90 Days to your Novel</u>, which, as it says, is a step-by-step guide to writing a novel in ninety days. Today was day one. It requires that I spend 2-3 hours -minimum- each day writing, which, even doing nothing, will be rough. Today I wrote for about 1 and a half hours, so, not a success...but not a complete failure, either.<br />
<br />
After my vacation, my goals are: 1)writing 2)part-time-job-hunting 3)student-loan securing 4)gym-stuff (have I mentioned I've heard a personal trainer? I have. it starts september 4th. I'm frightened) 5)one more class from school.<br />
<br />
That should be enough to keep me busy.<br />
<br />
Anyway, since I am on vacation, I am not worried about anything for the next two weeks!!Drymarchttp://www.blogger.com/profile/09783317795440265252noreply@blogger.com1tag:blogger.com,1999:blog-240689771098728553.post-61687651962822115192012-08-17T08:10:00.000-07:002012-08-17T08:10:36.267-07:00DisillusionedI have a draft version of this post that was a bit of a downer. I started writing it yesterday, but got bogged down in history, and was feeling pretty lame about myself. In short, I waited too long to apply for a student loan, and so my school is saying that I can only register for the January semester, which is not what I wanted. I want to be a full-time student now! Now, now, now!!<br />
<br />
All summer, I've had my hopes set on returning to school full time in September. I'm in a bit of a tricky situation right now, because I'm unemployed and on employment insurance. I was hoping to get the loan quickly so that I could get off EI, then get a part time job, but mostly focus on my studies. On my loan application, I filled out my projected earnings based on that, but if I'm not getting a loan this fall, that means I have to get a full time job, which will change my projected earnings, which means that what I put on my application is incorrect, and now I have this terrible fear that everything is ruined and my hope of going back to school was ruined before I even started.<br />
<br />
It can't be as dire as all that. But I'm still freaking out. Last night I couldn't get to sleep (though thank goodness for the boyfriend: he did and said all the right things. He couldn't make the problems go away, but his being there reminded me that I'm not the loser asshole that I was thinking I was). I'm still not sure what I'm going to do.<br />
<br />
Actually, that's not true. There's a course of action I can take, and all it means is that my education is delayed by 4 months, which I can easily make up if I take a full course load next summer. 4 months isn't an insane amount of time. <br />
<br />
What I have to deal with right now is understanding that even if I do all the right things, I still may not get what I want or need. I may be disappointed. My funding may not come through. This is really hard for me, because part of my strategy for being sober rests heavily on the idea that being sober is going to make my life better....which, no, sobriety is not a magic wand. Drinking would certainly make my life <em>worse</em>, but that does not mean that sobriety will make my life better...if that makes sense.<br />
<br />
If I go into things believing that I will succeed, just because I'm sober, I will be disappointed. Sooner or later I will have to accept that the world doesn't work that way. The world is not a vending machine where, if I put the right actions in, I will get my favourite tasty treat out. The world is complicated and messy. The world is cruel and cold. Outside of my precious sphere of loved ones, the world doesn't care about me.<br />
<br />
It's wrong for me to expect good things just because I'm working hard at being sober. I can't let myself think that the world will reward my sobriety. If I need to draw on more strength to say no to drinking, I have to find that strength elsewhere.<br />
<br />
Hm. I'm concerned that <em>this</em> post is reading just as bad as the draft one was. But it shouldn't. Part of what makes booze so bad for me is that it created a world of illusions, where I could keep making horrible decisions and still convince myself that everything was okay. Being sober doesn't mean that I get what I want when I want it, it means that I can see past the illusions. Seeing things as they are means that sometimes what I see will be ugly or disappointing, but seeing things honestly is important to me. And <em>that</em> is a better reason to stay sober.<br />
<br />
And another benefit of seeing things more clearly is that I can see that, even with this minor set-back, I have a lot in my life to be thankful for. I can see how amazing my partner is, for example. And I can reflect on the actions I took and realise that, yeah, they didn't turn out the way I'd like, but I still took all the right actions. I can't blame myself for this situation being what it is...and for someone who still carries a fair amount of guilt for his past actions, that's a pretty impressive thing.Drymarchttp://www.blogger.com/profile/09783317795440265252noreply@blogger.com3tag:blogger.com,1999:blog-240689771098728553.post-78071298365767304512012-08-15T20:16:00.001-07:002012-08-15T20:16:08.421-07:00Disappointed AnimalsI really should be going to bed, but clicked a link to a list of <a href="http://www.buzzfeed.com/expresident/animals-who-are-extremely-disappointed-in-you">disappointed (but adorable) animals</a> that I wanted to share. A lot of the captions (a LOT) have the animals being disappointed about something alcohol-related, so I thought that maybe some of my readers could use them as a light-hearted way to remind ourselves why we're doing the sober thing. You wouldn't want to tick off a bunch of cute animals, would you?Drymarchttp://www.blogger.com/profile/09783317795440265252noreply@blogger.com1tag:blogger.com,1999:blog-240689771098728553.post-33657918196100059352012-08-11T17:56:00.001-07:002012-08-11T17:56:01.744-07:00ShakenI passed ten months sober last weekend, and I guess it was what I would call a hard weekend. Not necessarily that I would drink, but that I was thinking a lot about drinking, and caught myself throughout the weekend (and a little bit this past week) being nostalgic for the booze. If I look back, I think there were warning signs, little, tiny minor things that were creeping into my thought patterns and actions that could be echoes of my brain when I was drinking. Just little lies I would tell myself, that didn't hurt anyone, but didn't really help anything, either. Why was I lying, to myself, about stuff that I didn't need to lie about?<br />
<br />
The details aren't really important, but basically I'm at one of those points where I'm worried about an outcome (getting a student loan), have done all of the things I need to do (fill out forms and send them in), and now the only thing left to do is wait. So, there's no control at this point. If anyone watched the Mars rover, Curiosity, land....those "14 minutes of terror" where none of the NASA controllers can do anything and just have to wait to see if their robots are smart enough to do everything right, well, this is just like that. Except weeks instead of minutes. And a lot more boring.<br />
<br />
Anyway, all this stress was creeping up on me and I didn't really notice it until the Friday. My bf had some friends over before going out, and I decided to just hide in the bedroom and read (something I do, sometimes...I'm not always very social). When they left, I crept out of my room and suddenly I simply <em>had</em> to know if they had been drinking, and if there was any alcohol still in the apartment. I didn't intend to drink it, I assured myself (and I do believe it), but I still wanted to <em>know</em>.<br />
<br />
There wasn't any booze, but (and this is where I kind of creep myself out) there was a shot glass, which I raised to my nose to sniff. Yep, there had been a really bad-smelling alcoholic drink in there. It was when I smelled it that I realised how crazy I was being, and that scared me.<br />
<br />
The last time I was this long sober, about 7 years ago, I lasted 11 months. And I am at 10 months. I'm nervous. I feel like there's a trap around here waiting to be sprung.<br />
<br />
The difference from last time is that back then, I never made the decision to quit forever. Even though I was sober for 11 months, I hadn't taken that last step, the one that I'm now sure that I, personally, have to take for my well being, which is admitting that I can not ever drink again. Back then, my sobriety was an experiment. I was just seeing if I could do it. And then the plan would be to gently ease myself into responsible drinking and live happily ever after, the fairy tale of being able to live a good life AND get wasted whenever I wanted.<br />
<br />
So, that's a pretty big difference. I'm certain that it's <em>the</em> big difference. And the fact is that ever since I came clean about my inability to control alcohol and admitted that I could never drink again, every day ever since has been easier. That admission closes the door on a lot of the options I might have thought I had. This isn't an experiment. I had the experiment, I got my results.<br />
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I think last weekend my confidence was shaken. A couple of days later, the Sunday, I made myself go out with some friends to a dance club that has a retro night every now and then, and had a small panic attack when I realised that I was drinking soda water and my boyfriend had ordered a vodka and soda....what if we mixed up the glasses?! It was like a drunk dream happening in real life. I worked through it, and eventually had a good time (and came home just in time to watch the Mars landing, which was awesome....wouldn't have done that if I was still drinking).<br />
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I'm not sure where I stand right now. I guess it's a good sign that my biggest fear is that I might <em>accidently</em> start drinking again (do I live on a sitcom where misunderstandings and hillarious mix-ups happen every week? Um....no), like, I will trip and my lips will fall onto a beer bottle and then suddenly I'm guzzling cheap booze like there's no tomorrow....if my biggest fears are things that happen in cartoons, then maybe I'm okay.<br />
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But I also think that I had a close call. Like, what if, while I was already feeling like that, some life crisis had happened, and then a well-meaning friend offered me a shot to feel a little better? Would I have had the reserves to stay sober?<br />
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In the end, it keeps coming back to the basics. I can't know the future, there are a limitted number of variables I can control. I know that I <em>want</em> to be sober. I know that even if I do stumble, I will keep on trying to quit until I get it right. I know that I am strong enough to be sober today, and I will probably be strong enough tomorrow, and that every day that I don't drink is a victory and makes the next day a little easier.<br />
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I'm already making plans to have a quiet, little party for myself (and maybe the boyfriend) when October 5th, 2012 comes around. I want to write a post here. I want to give myself a hug. I want to go to a bookstore and spend a crazy amount of money on books instead of booze. I want to tell people how proud I am of myself, and I want a kiss from my bf when he tells me he's proud of me, too.<br />
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I'll get through this case of nerves, and I will do that while sober.Drymarchttp://www.blogger.com/profile/09783317795440265252noreply@blogger.com7tag:blogger.com,1999:blog-240689771098728553.post-52307146861294061942012-07-28T09:46:00.003-07:002012-07-28T09:48:29.645-07:00NeuroscienceOkay, so, first: blogger has deleted my reading list, for some reason<em>(Edit: No it hasn't. Must have been a temporary glitch</em>). Most of the people I read I found their blogs because they commented here. If you could just make a quick comment with a link to your blog so that I can re-add you, I'd appreciate it.(<em>Edit: don't worry about it, I have all of you. But feel free to comment anyway!)</em><br />
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So....now onto my real post, I guess.<br />
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I'm not sure if this happens to anyone else, but sometimes I'll be at a party or hanging out with friends, and I will accidently stumble over some words or do something clumsy like spilling my drink or whatever, and I instantly fill with fear and guilt. I'm suddenly afraid that whoever I'm talking with will think that I've fallen off the wagon and that instead of just soda water in my glass, I'm actually imbibing straight vodka and am three sheets to the wind. I get as far as thinking up excuses and preparing to let them try my drink to prove that I'm still sober before I stop and realise that the melodrama is all happening in my head and that in all likelihood the person I'm talking to doesn't even <em>care</em> if I've been drinking a lot.<br />
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As uncomfortable as these random moments are, I never really gave them much thought, but when I was trying to fall asleep a few nights ago, I realized that these moments are probably left-over bits from my drinking days when I really <em>was</em> trying to pretend to the world that I wasn't as drunk as maybe I might seem. The brain is lazy, and when it finds a pattern of activity, it likes to start taking shortcuts: this is why we sometimes put meatloaf in the fridge instead of the oven or pick up the phone when the doorbell rings: instead of wasting all that time thinking about every step of meatloaf baking or door answering, our brains select a pre-recorded pattern of actions and sets itself on autopilot so it can focus on more important things, like making to-do lists or remembering our favourite American idol contestant. And sometimes our brain just chooses the wrong pre-recorded pattern and we don't realise it until we check to see if the meatloaf is ready yet (it isn't, because we put it in the fridge!) or can't hear anyone on the phone when we say "Hello?"<br />
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When I was a drinker, it was very important for me to never, ever appear as drunk as I actually was. Appearing drunk could get you kicked out of the bar, or cause the beer store clerk to decide not to ring through your order, or else cause everyone else at the party to wonder if you've had a bit too much and maybe it's time for everything to wind down for the night. Even the day after, it's important that no one thinks things got out of hand, if only to avoid the "Marc, let's talk about your drinking...." conversations that never end well because if <em>I</em> can't see a problem, shouldn't everyone else mind their own business?<br />
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Addiction hijacks the brain so that we become drug-seeking machines, and so a lot of my thought went toward making sure I would always have as much access to booze as possible. It's a tricky balance: how can one get completely, brain-numbingly, eye-wateringly drunk while still appearing relatively sober to the outside world? The drunker you get, the more difficult it is to do, but the more important it is that you do it, because what if you get cut off before you can pass out? Game over, man. Game over.<br />
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Now, the rules have changed. I'm <em>not</em> drunk, ever, so it's actually become staggeringly easy to appear sober. I just act like myself. I now have a whole bunch of neurons and synapses and neural circuits in my brain that have nothing to do. Or, almost nothing: because I'm human, I sometimes stumble over my words, or sometimes spill a drink, or stub my toe, or make a bad joke or non-sequitur.....and when I do, all those neurons and synapses fire up, thinking: "This is our moment, guys! Time to make sure our cover isn't blown!"<br />
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In time, my brain will figure out that I don't need those behaviour patterns anymore. As it does, it will gradually co-opt those connections into other patterns and circuits that I <em>do</em> use, and I will get slightly better at, say, remembering episodes of <em>Community</em> or studying for exams or making meatloaf. Because the brain is conservative and doesn't always like changing existing patterns (breaking habits is hard), there may always be a ghost of this obsolete fear of appearing too drunk, haunting the darker corners of my brain....but that's only human. I mean, I still remember most of the words to the theme song of <em>Perfect Strangers</em> and that show hasn't been on TV in over two decades (I also remember part of the Bibby Bobka Ditty....). I can live with that.<br />
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Today's post, in case you're wondering, has been brought to you by my psychology textbook, which I have clearly been reading too much of.Drymarchttp://www.blogger.com/profile/09783317795440265252noreply@blogger.com2tag:blogger.com,1999:blog-240689771098728553.post-30979343458116460322012-07-24T04:30:00.000-07:002012-07-24T04:30:14.528-07:00The StickWell, so far this summer is going fine. No real temptations to drink (I get little "micro-temptations" every now and then - a brief, wistful thought, "Boy a beer would be great today!" that is instant banished), in part because, I think, last summer was so horrible. Last summer, booze was king, and booze ruined pretty much every typical summery event there was, either by me skipping the event so I could stay in and drink myself, me skipping the event because I was hungover, or me attending the event and being so drunk that I said and did things I'm not happy with and will carry the shame with me forever.<br />
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So this summer, I have the handy crutch of - when I go to a BBQ, say, or next month when I go to a friend's cottage - knowing that if I choose to drink, I have a recent, horrific example to compare consequences with.<br />
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I'm a little bit nervous about the cottage, actually. Not because of the possibility I might drink, but because of knowing what I did last year. On the second-to-last night there, after everyone else had tired of the camp fire and gone inside to bed, I stayed up and drank. Hard-core. And it was a BAD drunk, where I worked myself up into a rage about something. I sobbed and fumed. Thank goodness I didn't yell or shout (that I remember....), it was a quiet rage. But when I ran out of logs for the fire, I crept over to other peoples' cottages and stole firewood from their property and probably (I can't remember) engaged in some "minor vandalism" - like tipping over garbage cans and the like (but I can't remember if I did this....I just have that deep feeling in my gut that I did things I don't remember that I would be ashamed of).<br />
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So far as I know, no one really noticed, and I was invited back this year. But what happened last year CAN NOT HAPPEN.<br />
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There are positive reasons to stay sober, like my health and getting shit done, and there are reasons that come from a negative place, a place of embarrassment and shame. The carrot and the stick model of motivation, I suppose. In the end, I'll take whatever works.Drymarchttp://www.blogger.com/profile/09783317795440265252noreply@blogger.com2tag:blogger.com,1999:blog-240689771098728553.post-55566241723101762212012-07-08T05:33:00.000-07:002012-07-08T05:33:18.778-07:00BoredomThere's a lot of stuff I'm never doing to be able to do. I'll never be a brain surgeon. I won't be an astronaut. I'll never run track in the Olympics.<br />
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There are also plenty of reasonable things that I'll never be able to do. Have a clean house, for example. I'm naturally messy*, and any place that I've been for longer than a day or two slowly fills up with loose papers, scattered books, etc. Since quitting the booze, I've gotten better...the dishes are done almost daily, same for laundry. I usually clean (with the bf) the bathroom and kitchen at least twice a month. No one will ever put a picture of our apartment on a magazine cover (unless it's a "before" shot for some magic organizational system), but we have the comfort in knowing that we are not a hospitable place for bugs and germs.<br />
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When I was drinking, those simple chores didn't get done. I'm embarrassed to think about the conditions I lived in, especially during the lowest points. Years ago, just before I became a homeless vagabond, I left a large stain of some red vermouth or something on the floor for a month. I never cleaned it up: I was evicted before I could. If I'd just taken a cloth and wiped at it as soon as I spilled it, there would have been no problem, but for some reason that seemed like too much for me.<br />
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One of the challenges a lot of ex-alcoholics seem to have is fighting boredom, and I'm one of them. If anything, booze and pot are great time-fillers. They're so good at filling time that they crowd out everything else. And when you take them away it's like suddenly living in an apartment with no furniture, just a big empty room with nothing to do.<br />
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But that's an illusion. <br />
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One of the things I'm learning is that there is <em>always</em> something to do. Those somethings have always been there, but I was blissfully ignoring them. Dishes, laundry, studying, tidying....but not just the tedious stuff. I love to read, and now I have all this time for books. I can watch movies (and remember them!). I go to the gym, sometimes just to fill up time, and I always feel better afterward. I play with the bf (he says he hates being tickled, but he's a giggler and sometimes he's just asking for it!), I write emails to my parents, I walk through my neighbourhood, or to the local inner city farm, or one of the dozens of parks nearby.<br />
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And all of these things that I do to "fill up time" are constructive. At the end of them, I've got a cleaner house, or I've learned something interesting from a book, or I'm in better shape, or my relationships are stronger.<br />
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I heard somewhere once that if you're bored, you're not paying attention, and I'm trying to live like that. It's really difficult sometimes, but I'm learning to read my boredom as a signal. If I'm bored, then maybe I should do something? I've got dozens of choices, inside or outside, and all of them make my life a little bit better.<br />
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So maybe I've been wrong to think of boredom as the enemy. Boredom is my brain reminding me that I've got one life, and I better spend it by living.<br />
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*There is a distinction between "messy" and "dirty" that probably only slobs like me can distinguish.Drymarchttp://www.blogger.com/profile/09783317795440265252noreply@blogger.com1tag:blogger.com,1999:blog-240689771098728553.post-82921847322902124912012-07-05T17:38:00.002-07:002012-07-05T17:38:56.454-07:00Fit for lifeI'm sober 9 months as of today. Since I quit booze (after a few months where I replaced it with chocolate and poutine), I've lost 6-7 inches on my hips and 5 inches on my gut. My chest, the one my mom tells me I inherrited from my "barrel-chested" great grandfather, remains unchanged, but that's fine by me. I weighed in at my dietitician's office last week at 244lbs, which means I've also lost about 15-20 pounds.<br />
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It's not just the booze. I've been excercising more often (which I can only do because I'm not hungover half the days of the week), and I'm starting to kick it up a notch. As I mentioned, I saw a dietician last week (her big message: "Eat more vegetables!!"), and I'm making a commitment to get 30 minutes of cardio 5 days a week in addition to lifting weights.<br />
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All of this is really important to me. I just turned 35, and all my life I've felt like the "fat kid". More than that, I've always wanted to be muscular. I'm embarassed to talk about that, but I see bodybuilders and strength athletes and I'm always in awe, I always want to look like that. At least a little bit. I've been going to gyms and lifting weights since I was 15, but never consistently: I'll work out for 2 weeks and then stop for months, go back for a day but then be back to eating burgers and gravy-laden fries for a season or a year. <br />
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Weightlifting and bodybuilding are more like marathons than sprints, you need to make small good choices one after another for the long term, and I was nowhere near mentally able to handle a marathon. I would read articles and websites about fitness, I knew what I needed to do and what I needed to eat....I just never did it. Last year, when I was deep in the thick of realizing how shitty I felt and that I needed to change, my physical condition was one of my biggest regrets.<br />
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The other big regret (and bear with me for what seems like a subject change) is my education. In junior high, I scored the highest in the school on the provincial achievement test. In high school, I was tied for 13th highest GPA. I got accepted into the neursocience program at Dalhousie (a great university in Atlantic Canada) and planned to become a brain surgeon. In my first year, I got an A in the core psych course for my major.<br />
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Two years after that, I dropped out of university, probably weeks before I got kicked out for not maintaining my GPA. I was skipping classes, failing exams, not attending labs. But while I wasn't showing up for classes, you could count on me showing up at the liquor store every payday. The apartment I shared with my brother before I moved in with my then-boyfriend, had an entire wall dedicated to my empties: cases of beer piled atop each other, King Sized bottles of vodka and whiskey filling a recycling bin. And piles of pizza boxes so high they could crush a small child if they toppled over.<br />
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There are probably a few reasons why I failed at university, but the absolute biggest one was the booze. And ever since, I've been this really smart, really intelligent guy (I'm owning this, because it's true, dammit!) working at customer service jobs and feeling like a failure. Without the booze, would I be a brain surgeon right now? Would I be working in a lab somewhere doing research, or operating on people with cancer? I try not to think about this alternate me, because it's a fool's game. No one's gonna take me back in time and fix all that.<br />
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Every now and then I would try the school thing again. My CV is littered with half-completed community college programs. I've done creative writing, I've done editing, and I've done Human Resources....but I haven't finished any of those certificates. I just completed one or two classes and dropped out. Because, like fitness, higher education is a marathon, not a sprint. (Aha! I told you I was going somewhere!)<br />
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This week I submitted an application for a student loan. If I can somehow work it out, I am going to return to school full time. I'm already registered at a distance education university and am partway through a class where I scored a 90% on the first quiz. I want to get my degree, this time in psychology. I feel like I can do this, and more than that I feel like I HAVE to do this. I need to take control of my life, something I haven't had in the twenty years since I started drinking.<br />
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My fitness goals and my education goals will take a lot of hard work, and dedication, and focus. But I'm ready for that. When I first gave up alcohol, I wasn't sure if it was going to be for a month or a year or forever. I know that it has to be forever, I don't have any choice. I worried and hesitated about that...give up booze FOREVER? But where I am now, I see just how much space alcohol was taking in my life, space that <em>should</em> have gone towards other things, like school, like my health, like my relationships and my interests. Where I was once worried about how to deal with the void that alcohol was going to leave, I see all of these other things, these great and wonderful and fulfilling things, rushing in to fill the hole.<br />
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The longer I'm sober, the more I see all that I have to gain. Maybe I don't always feel this way, but I'm working on it. Because life, just like school and fitness and a hell of a lot of other stuff worth doing, is a marathon. And this time I'm ready.Drymarchttp://www.blogger.com/profile/09783317795440265252noreply@blogger.com3tag:blogger.com,1999:blog-240689771098728553.post-87106320853090262892012-06-29T18:50:00.002-07:002012-06-29T18:50:13.248-07:00Choosing LifeNo joke, but someone jumped (or fell? Or was pushed?) to their death from my building this afternoon. I was home but was watching a dvd and didn't have a clue until my boyfriend called me in a panic to make sure I was alive. He's been worried about my anxiety and knows that sometimes I battle depression....we also had a bit of a grumpy morning and maybe he was worried that he'd pushed me over the edge.<br />
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I'm the kind of person to make jokes about this sort of thing. It's nerves. I also have a keen sense of the absurd, and life (and death) are absurd....but mostly it's nerves. I've known 3 people who have tried to kill themselves, one of whom succeeded and the other two are still (thankfully) alive and doing well. The one who did die was a friend of my brother's, and he stabbed himself when he was only 16 years old (I was around 18 or 19 at the time). And, because of my bouts with depression, I've certainly considered suicide at certain low points of my life.<br />
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I've always chosen life, but I can very easily imagine being the person today, how lonely and pain-filled they must have felt. I guess it's a flaw in our psychology, how we can get so trapped in despair and lose sight of possibility. <br />
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What I think has gotten me through has been knowing how much my family loves me, and how anguished they would be if I took my life. Even though we're separated by distance, my family has always been upfront and open about our love for each other, and there's an understanding that it's unconditional. No matter what I've done or how "broken" I feel like I am sometimes, it would break my mom's heart if I died, and I can't do that to her.<br />
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Hearing the relief and concern in my boyfriend's voice was another reminder to me. I am loved by too many wonderful people to do anything but choose life.Drymarchttp://www.blogger.com/profile/09783317795440265252noreply@blogger.com1tag:blogger.com,1999:blog-240689771098728553.post-1316642834420014712012-06-27T10:17:00.000-07:002012-06-27T10:17:03.380-07:0035Well, happy birthday to me. I'm not exactly where I want to be right now, and life is far from picture perfect, but I have my health (seriously: other than my anxiety, which is a major concern right now, I'm doing great: good cholesterol, good thyroid stuff, all my limbs and senses are operating as they should, I've lost about 10 lbs in the last couple of months as well), I have a good group of friends, and I have an amazing boyfriend.<br />
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Who I'm gonna talk about, right here! Right now!<br />
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Our 4 year anniversary was just three days ago (aren't I clever? I'll never forget our anniversary because it's so close to my birthday), which makes this my longest romantic relationship, and it's by far the happiest. Neither of us is perfect, but we seem to be imperfect in ways that match each other very well. In general, we're both low-maintenance people, we love each other and we really try to communicate. We've had a few rough patches, but we've never had what I would consider a giant fight, which, considering I'm pretty mercurial and, er, "passionate," is a big win. It isn't that we don't ever disagree, but we both really make a sincere effort to communicate, and we've been successful so far. Whenever I've had a problem, I could always trust that he will listen to me and try to understand, and I've tried to do the same for him.<br />
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Last night we talked a bit about my alcoholism. He asked me how I was doing and I told him (I'm doing well. The not drinking thing is mostly easy these days, so long as I remember that I can never drink again), and he told me how he's really proud of me, and let me know that because of my decision not to drink, he's noticed that his own life is better for it. He's not drinking as much, either, and for the first time in his life, his bank account is always going up, instead of hovering around "0".<br />
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I'm feeling really low about my anxiety, so I really needed to hear some positive feedback. My relationship with him was one of the major factors in my giving up booze - I could see that my drinking was putting strains on our relationship, and I could see a future where he' might leave me or where I might be holding him back - and knowing that I am making choices that help improve his life is a major motivating boost.<br />
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I don't do the AA steps, but the bloggers who do seem to have a big focus on gratitude, and I can get behind that. I'm very thankful to have him in my life, to know that there is a source of laughter and comfort and love so close by. I don't believe in a higher power, but if I did I know that I would consider him to be a sign of benevolent action in my life.<br />
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If you have someone in your life who helps you feel loved, maybe give that person a hug (real or virtually) and let them know you appreciate it. I'll be doing the same.Drymarchttp://www.blogger.com/profile/09783317795440265252noreply@blogger.com1