FreshFree

Welcome back to my fragmented writing.

After 23 days of sobriety, I've got to say that it's not all that. The initial euphoria of waking up and feeling nothing but promise for the day has faded. I still look forward to my good cup(s) (I'm an alcoholic. Why stop at one?) of Joe, but most of the day (when I'm not working) is consumed by things that never occurred to me. 

Such as whom did I hurt and how badly?  

Here in an article published on Slate over the weekend. 

http://www.salon.com/2013/11/24/when_mommy_needs_a_drink_isnt_funny_anymore/

I an fascinated by the honesty, the bravery of these women and their writings about this deeply personal topic.

The movement "Booze Free Brigade" started by the author Stefanie Wilder-Taylor after her handbooks of booze-soaked-mommy-survival, "Naptime is the New Happy Hour" and "Sippy Cups Are For Chardonnay," switched teams. She went from mismanaged mom to sobriety. To my knowledge, she has not looked back.  

***Newsflash. Just received by email: My new AA friend Holly, has just separated from her husband.***

I mention this because the computer is my new best friend and it's where I am free to be an alcoholic. The computer has always been dear to me but this is where I read about Stefanie Wilder-Talor and her sobriety, women who drink and how they cope and it's where I receive messages from cyber-space friends who have a snapshot of who I am and love me anyway. 

I've told almost no one about my sobriety except my husband, my sponsor, my AA pen pal from a meeting out of town, the women in my AA group who don't know my real name, all 12 of you and just yesterday my daughter.

She cried tears of relief. I was cautious and hedged while promising her that I could *not* promise I will never drink again. That was enough for her. 

Exactly 3 weeks ago today I decided to become sober. 

Today is filled with plans to stay sober and as a result, full of possibilities.

I will stay fed and watered. (Key to my success).

I will stay present and breathe.

If I feel weak, tired or bored, I will assess what it is that I need in that moment, without judgement and then fulfill that need--no matter how small. (I've rediscovered books, Pinterest, DIY's, writing, good coffee, teas, mineral water and chocolate). This is added to my arsenal of exercise, mindless TV, movies, crock pot stews and hand held glossy magazines.  

I will nourish my brain and my soul and take stock in ALL that I have. 

Today. Day 21. <3 life.

Me.

I googled myself: high functioning alcoholic. 

"High-functioning alcoholics also may not be physically addicted to alcohol, abstaining for days or weeks without suffering withdrawal symptoms. But they are psychologically dependent on alcohol, often focused on when they can drink again and convinced that they need to drink in certain settings. They are also likely to experience blackouts, remembering nothing the next day about a night of heavy drinking, with only a hangover as evidence of their abusive behavior."

-- Health reporter, Jane E. Broady, New York Times, 2009 reporting on the author Sarah Allen Benton's book, "Understanding the High Functioning Alcoholic."

All the news that's fit to print. 

Hello readership of seven. Guess what? I've stopped drinking WINE at night and I feel SO MUCH BETTER. 

Wow, it's *H.A.R.D* to break up with such a sneaky, nasty bastard, damn Wine.

In fact, I tried to two-time wine by dating Vodka, but that didn't work out very well at all. 

So, I quit 'em both. In fact, I'm staying completely away from the entire Booze family. 

Good rid-dins asshole Wine.

I'm onto day 16 of sobriety. Thank you for NOTHING! 

My dear friend came over (as we say in the midwest) and colored my hair. I am so happy. Free therapy and hair color.

And then I had to go to work and be alert as a white trash mother threw away her daughter, only 15. It's exhausting. 

I've thought of giving up the blog to start a new one that is really fresh. Most of my demons are concurred. 

As my grand uncle said: We stand on the shoulders of our ancestors. 

So I'll stick around.

I'm going to make this brief. 

Last night I ran 10 miles into the darkness. It was divine.

After sleeping in, I just had a 4 mile walk with a friend who has a 42 year old niece dying of breast CA in the UK. She has an 8 year old son who wrote her a note that said: "Mummy, get well soon. I'm begging you."

Heartbreak.

She and I were supposed to run a half marathon next weekend but I'm afraid she'll be over seas. I'll get the news any minute. 

Now I'm off to see 5 patients in a row after eating a turkey wrap. 

The end of the most boring blog entry ever. Forgive me. 

May 20 I ran/walked a half marathon at altitude and had a blast; but that was the icing on the cake.

The process of training, healing, being away from work, daily chores illuminated the longing and what I miss in my life. 

What I long for is to be completely loved. What I miss is being completely loved. 

I've been doing the "right things" in almost all ways for my entire life. The word "almost" is key because I am human and I've floundered in more ways that having too much to drink. 

I am over-all good. I am a tax-paying, married mom of two kids who helps others and gives back in local and global ways. I am a good cook, friend and dog owner.

I'm up. Hopefully I'll get back to bed soon but on nights like this, I look for something soothing for a meditation to get back to sleep. 

Here is a lovely quote by Dr. Rick Hanson:

"Don't sentimentalize love or be naïve about it. Trusting in love does not mean assuming that someone will love you. It means confidence in the fundamentally loving nature of every person, and in the wholesome power of your own lovingness to protect you and touch the heart of others. It means coming home - home by the hearth of love."

Tuesday. Such a banal day of the week but I've always worked the hardest on Tuesdays.

Meaning my entire adult life, they have been the longest days; filled with clinicals, kids, working out, making dinner, editing what I wrote on Monday or getting up before the sun to try and crank out a piece before the kids got up. 

I did that all and still had time to chill with a glass of wine or two (that's all I'd drink then) at the end of the day. 

So today, I wish for two things:

One. That I could go back, knowing full well that I cannot, and take back a little time to be with my husband and little girls, not work so hard that I took myself so seriously that I craved, but did not know how to ask for, folly.

Two. Is that when I finally found folly in joie de vivre, it would NOT be a secret. 

So I wish for fanciful secrets to fade and real life with all it's boils and dust-ups to be mine. 

It's not sexy but it's freeing and promising.