Here’s the fourth of five UN-edited articles that I’ll be sharing before I shut down my blog for re-construction. This post was written in February of this year.
When I first quit drinking 8 years ago, it wasn’t by choice. I was an alcoholic who knew deep down I could never drink again but I refused to accept it. I did not want to be done for good and therefore, wanted to protect my right to drink by not being honest about how bad my drinking really had gotten. I remember another sober woman telling me early on that the reason I was refusing to admit my alcoholism to anyone else was because once I did, it closed the door on ever drinking with whoever I told the truth to. And she was right.
I wasn’t even a month sober when I found out I was pregnant. By the grace of God, I was finally going to become a mom and now had a perfect excuse to not drink. Staying sober was easy and hiding my alcoholism even easier.
In early recovery, social gatherings were my main trigger. After my daughter was born, I had breastfeeding as an excuse but now, staying sober wasn’t as easy. I’ll never forget a business dinner my husband I attended. We toured our host’s wine cellar and then went to dinner where the wine never stopped. I was “white knuckling it” the entire time. Upon departing for the evening, the host insisted we return after I was done breastfeeding so I could enjoy their collection. It took everything in me not to cry right then and there – so I waited until we got in the car and let the tears flow immediately.
Self-pity was my favorite.
Fast forward 7 years later and I no longer fight the anxiety of being the only one not drinking and being asked why. But I do still fight the triggers on the rare occasion and it’s usually because I am restless, irritable or discontent. Last weekend we attended a lunch at a winery. I had been to wineries in the past – sober and pregnant. But I had never been wine tasting at a winery and I always wished I had. Isn’t that funny? But I digress.
Tensions ran high with my daughter as we prepared to leave for this lunch and on the way there, I decided: I’m gonna drink today. That thought was immediately followed by “no you’re not” and then from there I proceeded to judge myself for even considering such a terrible idea at almost 8 years sober from alcohol.
The longer we were there, the less I wanted to drink but the more annoyed that I was still somewhere I no longer wanted to be. The person next to me was drinking and when he was asked by the server if he wanted water, he responded with “I’m allergic.” I laughed out loud and he looked at me with a dead pan face.
“Wait, really? You’re allergic to water? How is that?” I said.
He proceeded to explain to me that water tastes like shit and he refuses to drink it.
5 minutes later, my impatience for our food to arrive took over and he turns to me and says,
“Just chill, have a drink.”
I look at him and say “yeah, no, I’m allergic.”
I get the same dead pan expression staring back at me and then he says “really?”
“Yep, when I drink, I bread out in poor judgement, make bad decisions and end up in handcuffs.”
I can’t tell you what his response was. Did he laugh? Probably and that was my intent. But more importantly, two things happened after that: One, I planted a seed. And two, any remaining ounce of desire to drink was immediately removed.
That is my intent for living my recovery out loud and proud. By sharing my truth and being honest, I’m planting seeds in the minds of other potential alcoholics and by doing so, I’m protecting my need to stay sober.
Here’s the third of five UN-edited articles that I’ll be sharing before I shut down my blog for re-construction. It was composed in October, 2019.
“You wouldn’t know, you’re not a mother.”
My friend was right. She was a mom in the depths of toddler hell and I was childless.
What you don’t know is, I had suffered a miscarriage less than 6 months prior and was actively trying to get pregnant again – I wanted to be a mother more than anything.
But she did know. She knew that and she uttered those hurtful words anyway because she was struggling with something I knew nothing about. Which is funny because, I ALSO was struggling with something she knew nothing about. She didn’t have to “try” for a baby and she never knew what it was like to lose one either. I don’t remember if I pointed that out to her then or not. My guess is, I did.
I called my husband on my way to work to invite him to my daily pity party of 1:
“Can you believe she’d say that?” (waaaah waaaah) “She KNOWS how bad I want a baby!” (waaaaaaaaah)
What you also don’t know is, I had already polished off the wine from the night before. But he did.
“Have you been drinking?”
Of course I lied. I lied all the time about my drinking. But everyone close to me knew I was an alcoholic. Down deep, even I knew, but I was drowning in a sea of denial at the same time.
Less than 6 months later, I got my second DUI on my 32nd birthday. 2 days later, my husband told me he thought it best to wait 6 months to get pregnant. Devastation is an understatement. I wanted to get hammered but instead, cried myself to sleep because it had been decided for me that I was done drinking. Sure, I could have drank but I did not want to deal with the consequences…not that weekend, anyway.
I went on to relapse a handful of times over the next two months and for some reason, my husband changed his mind on baby making. I picked up a sponsor to make everyone think I was serious about sobriety (cuz I wasn’t) and she highly suggested I wait a year to get pregnant.
What do you think this dry drunk girl did?
1 month later, I saw 2 lines and it wouldn’t be too long until I would experience the challenges that come with ages 0-5 that my friend was lamenting about just before she dropped that insensitive statement on me.
Do I regret getting pregnant in my first year of recovery? Of course not! God did for me what I could not do for myself. I’m convinced that had I not gotten pregnant, I would have drank again and again; causing more wreckage along the way.
That being said, I’m also positive that had I put more effort into my recovery that first year, I would have been better equipped with tools to handle life when it got harder after we brought home baby #2.
Because being a mother is hard AF. I cannot imagine doing it drunk.
Being a mother (with alcoholism) without a complete reliance on a Higher Power proved to be unbearable. For me anyway. Hence the name of this series – My Recovery Rock Bottom.
2 more posts and a final “sign off” before I shut down my page for all things new.
Here’s the second of five UN-edited articles that I’ll be sharing before I shut down my blog for re-construction.
I was moving up the ranks in my drinking career when my besties started having babies. While they navigated through raising little humans, I was raising hell on my path of self-destruction. When they complained about the woes of motherhood and nursing babies to sleep, I was nursing hangovers and complained about who wasn’t living up to my expectations.
One time my friend told me she fantasized walking into her backyard, hopping the fence and running away to start a new life because hers as a working mother (and wife too!) was just too hard. I didn’t get it.
Like, at all.
Then, I got sober and had children of my own; and then I got it.
I got it so hard.
2 years ago, I hit another bottom and it was way worse than my last when I was drinking. My daughters were 5 and 3. My life, as I knew it, did not look like I thought it would almost 6 years in recovery. I was unhappy with every single aspect of my life and was desperate for change. I remember driving to work one day and screaming at the top of my lungs to God “HELP MEEEEEEE!! I CAN’T DO THIS!!!!”
I cried a lot. Every. Single. Day. I lost my temper with my daughters constantly and took it out on my husband too. Our marriage was falling apart right before my eyes and he was oblivious. Which made me feel even more crazy. How could he not see, I wondered? I was picking fights left and right, with him and my coworker.
It felt so strangely familiar to how I felt when I was drinking so I didn’t understand – how could I feel this way again and I’m still dry AF? It didn’t take long for me to realize that I was not in recovery at all because had I been doing the things I was taught to do when I first got sober, I wouldn’t feel so helpless, alone and out of control.
Instead, I was going at it alone. I was without a sponsor and had a very small circle of sober friends. I wasn’t going to meetings and I wasn’t being of service in any way, shape or form. As you already know, I also had gotten myself addicted to Adderall but that’s neither here nor there; that only made my bottom worse. Most importantly though, I wasn’t praying.
I knew right then and there that if I didn’t take charge of my situation, I was going to drink. I didn’t believe it when my peers talked about the “relapse before the relapse” but I still listened to what they said to do when that happens and I started praying. I went back to meetings and I started reaching out.
Next thing I knew, I had a sponsor who accepted me and my choices in recovery (that was a miracle!) and was discovering new recovery communities I didn’t know existed outside of the little AA bubble I had put myself in. I seamlessly quit Adderall without any help and managed to close out 2018 with a new lease on life.
At 8 years AF, my emotional rock bottom taught me that I still have a lot of growth to do and it has nothing to do with staying sober and everything to do with me and how I show up as a human being. It became abundantly clear that as long as I remain aware of the following 5 lessons I learned from my emotional rock bottom, I’ll never have to go through one again:
- I’m not just an alcoholic, I’m also an addict and I still have some addictions to overcome. As long as they aren’t booze and Adderall, I’m going to be just fine.
- I am not alone and there are always people out there suffering way more than me. The more I give a shit about other people, the less I focus on myself, the better I feel. Selfless acts of service do a soul good.
- Recovery is so much more than just not drinking or using; I need a program of action to stay somewhat sane. I’ve been taught the tools and it’s my responsibility whether I choose to use them or not.
- I need a community of like-minded people in my corner – and I have chosen the Fellowship of AA. But I’m not here to promote AA, just sharing what works for me.
- I need a Higher Power – and mine is God. The Creator of the Universe, the Master of All Things, God the Father, Son and Holy Spirit – as long as I turn my will over to Him every day to the best of my ability, I’m good. It’s when I let up on my spiritual connection when things start to go sideways.
I’m grateful for my bottom because it brought me back to the path I never wanted and now never want to get off. It’s been a very transformative 2 years and I’m in a much better place today. But I’m not done. No way – I’ll never be done. Recovery is a journey, not a destination. There’s still work to be done on myself and people to help along the way. I cannot wait to see what the next decade brings.
Disclaimer: this post was originally published in January of this year for another website for sober women. It was edited prior to publishing. Things got weird and all of my posts were unpublished. When I asked for them back, “they” wanted me to PAY for them because they claimed that “they” had paid $30 per article for editing. Well, I rejected that. These are MY words and if they are going to sit in a website back-end until I PAY to have them back, then I’ll just TAKE them back and use the original, UN-edited versions. SNS.
So, with that said, here’s the first of five articles that I’ll be sharing in the next few days before I shut down my blog for re-construction.
Alcohol was my friend for a very long time. When I was in outpatient rehab 9 years ago, I had to write a letter to my “friend,” explaining why we were no longer compatible with each other. At the time, I was just placating – I really had no intentions of saying good bye forever, I just wanted to be in the good graces of my loved ones again.
It didn’t matter how many times my “friend” alcohol hurt me, I always went back and when I wrote this letter, I truly thought we’d reunite someday. As I read the letter today, I’m baffled at how much I really did know back then but was still unwilling to see it as my actual truth. It took me 5 years as a dry drunk to realize just how sick I really was, and another year to see how my sickness was affecting my life, even though I wasn’t drinking.
Fast forward to today and I’m hungover.
Almost 8 solid years without alcohol and I’m hungover.
Not physically, of course. No, I’m suffering from an emotional hangover because I just said good-bye to my “ride of die bestie” and I’m realizing just how similar my alcoholism was to the toxicity of that 20+ year relationship.
I’m grieving. I’m grieving the loss of my friend I thought would be in my life til death do us part.
I’m angry. I’m angry that I didn’t end the friendship sooner. I’m angry I didn’t get the closure I needed sooner. I’m angry that she seems to have moved on quicker than me. I’m angry because I thought I was over it but I’m crying. Clearly I’m not fully over it and that pisses me off!
I don’t feel good because this feels all too familiar. I feel like I’m right back to where I was 9 years ago when alcohol was removed from my life against my will. Fighting for my right to drink even when I knew it wasn’t good for me. Grieving the loss of a huge part of my identity – the party girl!
Angry at everyone around me because they thought I was an alcoholic and angry at myself because down deep I knew I was too and asking myself “how could you do this again!?!?”
I cannot tell you how many times this friend and I “broke up” since I quit drinking. We’d have a falling out, we’d stop talking, one of us would reach out and then before we knew it, we were “back together,” and healthier than ever.
Until the next shoe dropped and we weren’t speaking again. This went on and on for years.
Just like my alcoholism. Alcohol was the fair weathered friend I needed when I felt like no one else understood. Alcohol comforted me when it seemed that non one else cared. Alcohol also turned on me when I consumed too much, which, at the end of my drinking career, was all the time.
Comparing the two deaths of relationships, I do see one difference that I think is worth mentioning because it shows my growth – growth that would not have happened had I not accepted my alcoholism for what it was 3 years ago – and it is this:
Unlike the end of my drinking career, the demise of my friendship with my former bestie and the feelings that resulted was in my control. I chose not to get closure until 9 months after I knew it was over. That was my choice.
That’s the only difference. The rest is the same. Once again, I did it to myself. I chose not to face what I knew was going to bring me pain and now I’m suffering the consequences.
It’s all good though. I’m free now and so is she. We’re better off without the other. In our last exchange, she told me that her journey is raining gifts and that she can’t look back on areas of life with anger.
For once in our lives, our journeys have aligned, as I too am experiencing a lot of joy amongst a lot of sadness going on around me. I wanted to say “me tooooo! Tell me everything!” but I didn’t. I just “loved” her message and that was that. Then I cried.
I’m okay. I’ve been okay and I will continue to be okay. Life goes on and I gotta say, I am loving life today. It’s not without it’s struggles but as long as I keep the alcohol and toxic people out of my life, I’m ALWAYS going to be okay.
First thing first: I have failed at every attempt to quit smoking and have quit quitting for now. Do I still desire to quit? Yes and I have a new plan that I’ll tell you about in another post. Go on, roll your eyes. I am.
Anyway, I’ve been sitting on this post for a long time; unsure if I would even go here but I’m so clear that I must in order to keep this blog going so, here we go.
My MO is to write a novel and tell you every single detail about the rise and fall of Red, a nickname given to me by my former ROD; one of my besties of all besties who is no longer my bestie. Red was a nickname she gave me the morning of one of my final interventions. Pixie was gone for good so for the past 8 years, it was a “thing” in our friendship. One of many “things” that only we got entirely. I adopted it as my “rebellious sober alter ego” because, as you know by now, I haven’t been “clean and sober” this whole time.
I still haven’t drank but I’ve dabbled with other things along with my MJ usage during recovery; and Adderall was the one that took me down. Like, way.the fuck.down. So rather than divulging all the ugliness, I’ll give you the standard version: what it was like, what happened, and what it’s like now.
What it Was Like
It had been years since I had used Adderall when I found out one of my friends had access to it. I think I was in my 6th year alcohol free. My friend (who wasn’t in recovery, yet) would buy them off her friend who needed money and then she’d turn around and sell some to me. It was the magic pill that gave me the energy and motivation to pick up my disaster of a house or tackle projects I had been putting off. It inspired extreme creativity and gave me a sense of euphoria that, in my mind, allowed me to be a more upbeat, pleasant person to be around. I was also on it when I started this blog. Remember my very first post? Quite positive I was totally strung out when I wrote that.
I’m so glad I was though. This is going to sound weird but I’m so grateful for Adderall. If it weren’t for that drug, this blog would not exist. And if this blog didn’t exist, I can tell you right now, I’d probably be drunk right now. Or in jail. Or dead.
Anyway, it was fun while it lasted but then, as most addiction stories go, it had me and started having a negative impact on my life.
I don’t even know where to start. The consequences I suffered in this addiction were different than when I was drinking. They were rather subtle but looking back, more damaging. I didn’t lose my license or freedom as a result of my Adderall addiction, however, I did lose my friendship with ROD but that was a long time coming anyway so I won’t even expand on that consequence.
While my alcoholism progressed slowly over the years, my pill addiction progressed much faster. I became painfully aware of how much I was risking on my way home from picking up a stash one day. I had to stop for gas right off the freeway. I saw a rather disheveled woman approach a truck and then I heard “SURE!” She proceeded to get in the truck and it exited the parking lot ever so slowly as another disheveled man crept around the parking lot watching the truck’s every move.
I instantly knew what was going on. She was turning a trick for her and her boyfriend’s next fix. It hit me “you are witnessing the very lengths people will go to for their drugs and that could be you if you don’t stop this shit.” I had just driven almost 2 hours round trip to get this stash and I’m pretty sure I had my girls in the car too. My gosh, it hurts to write that.
I don’t know how much longer I kept using after that incident but I can tell you that I already knew I had a problem but I was in denial of how bad and wasn’t ready to quit. I knew the time was coming soon though because I couldn’t keep living the way I was living. The Adderall, it had turned on me. It was no longer giving me the same positive effects and yet I kept going back for more, losing countless hours in the pursuit of what what it used to be like. I became very paranoid and would have fits of rage and uncontrollable sob fests out of nowhere. I picked everything my husband said apart and accused him of being a narcissist. My daughters witnessed and were on the receiving ends of my extreme highs and lows and my coworker didn’t know what the hell was wrong with me. I was a mess.
Truth be told, my life was already a mess. All of my feelings were real, just amplified and the drugs made me think things were way worse than they really were. I should mention that I was also on Wellbutrin at the time and smoking weed to come down from the highs, so, needless to say, my brain chemistry was jacked. Then I watched a Netflix special on Adderall and found out it is one ingredient short of meth. Awesome.
“I’m basically a meth addict” is what I told myself and then instantly rationalized why I wasn’t and kept using it. For how much longer? I don’t know. Unlike my drinking, nothing specific happened that made me or anyone say “okay, you’re done!” All I know is, the day I knew would come finally came. I told my friend to never sell them to me again and I’ve been clean from it since September 15, 2018.
What It’s Like Now
Today, I am happy, joyous and getting freer every day. I most certainly haven’t done it alone; I couldn’t. The last weekend I took Adderall, I was on an overnighter with my sponsor doing step work. My recovery program was just getting started and I had no idea it would be my last weekend using. I think that’s pretty cool. God was very much present during that trip and has been guiding my path ever since.
But I’m still very addicted to other things that are having negative impacts on my life, and I’m ashamed to admit, they mirror those from my pill addition:
Loss of appetite, resulting in “hanger,” which leads to loss of control of my thoughts and worst of all, ability to remain calm when triggered.
And who suffers the most from this?
Enough is enough.
Coffee and cigarettes, you gots to go.
For real this time.
Step 1 – We admitted we were powerless over alcohol – that our lives had become unmanageable. (BB, pg. 59 )
It’s been one month and 2 days since I posted and I should be over 30 days without a cigarette. But, of course, I am not.
In the past month, I haven’t been able to go longer than 2 days without breaking down and satiating the cravings. I have purchased and thrown away several packs; as well as purchased and smoked several packs. I’ve reset my quit date in my quit smoking app a gazillion times and wouldn’t you know, I just did AGAIN! I made it about 20 hours before the opportunity presented itself and I was lighting up.
What’s wrong with me!?!?!?!
HA! I’m kidding. Nothing is WRONG with me, I’m just an addict.
I’m an addict who normally needs to be backed into a corner before taking the steps necessary to make a serious change.
An addict who walks the line as long as I can until something really bad happens and I am forced to change.
An addict who has been in recovery long enough to know NOW that there is no “easier, softer way” to drastic change. I MUST be willing to do whatever it takes and as I said in my last post, I want to 12 step this bitch, so let’s get on with it already.
But before I do, I need to let another skeleton out of the closet because, well, this is the “Recovery Relapse Series” and I’ve hit another milestone not many people know about and that is this:
Today, September 16th, 2019, marks 1 whole year clean from Adderall.
You guys…I so want to talk about this right now but I can’t. It’s late and it’s not on topic. We’re talking about my cig addiction right now, the one I’m still fighting to quit! But my Adderall addiction is a huge part of my story and if I’m being totally honest, this blog wouldn’t exist if it weren’t for Adderall.
Sooooooo, yeah, I gotta talk about it. But, like I said, later, ok?
I gotta go smoke ANOTHER final cig, destroy ANOTHER pack of cigarettes & change my date AGAIN before hitting the hay.
Step 1 – I am powerless over cigarettes and my life has become unmanageable.
P.S. In case you were wondering, I’m still a grateful recovering alcoholic who has been AF for 7.46 years and practices MMR (for now) and goes to AA.
That’s 89.60 months without wine…
…2,727 days without a cocktail &
65,447 hours without a single drop of alcohol touching my dry, wrinkled 39 year old smoker lips.
Yeah, no, I’m still keeping my date sobriety date…for now.
Relapse (past & present:) “We’re only as sick as our secrets.” – AA slogan.
I haven’t been honest with you guys.
I mean, I have, but…not totally honest.
Remember how I said there are things I know I have to talk about and I don’t want to?
Well, I guess you can say I’ve been hiding behind this secret and allowing it to excuse me from writing for the past 2+ months.
I have wanted to move out of the past and write about the present but uhhhh, I haven’t been doing that now, have I? So clearly I need to still talk about some past shit in order to move on.
That’s how working a spiritual program of action works. And when I’m not doing it to the best of my ability, life is just harder. I can’t explain how that is and I’m digressing anyway so let’s just put a pin in that for now.
Back to my BBS that I have been harboring; recent events have made it abundantly clear that I cannot hang onto this part of my story anymore and if I continue to ignore my instincts, I will remain stuck in my recovery and I don’t want that.
So here it is: towards the end of 2018, I determined that not only am I an alcoholic but I am also a straight up addict.
Cigarettes, alcohol, weed, sugar, pills, & caffeine – I have abused them all at various points in my life and it’s time I write about it and make some serious changes while I’m at it.
Kicking this series off is the cigs because I’m ashamed to admit that after promising my 6 year old daughter that I would quit smoking back in May, I still am puffing them down and I can’t fucking stand it anymore.
Pause, you guys, I just went to look at when I last posted. It was May 22nd. The last “quit date” I set for myself and here I am about to set another one. Weird. Anyway…
I swore up and down I’d quit smoking before my daughters would ever know I smoked and yet here we are, her little voice yelling at me from the screen door for all the neighbors to hear: “MOMMY! STOP SMOKING!”
Me: (whisper yelling) oh my gosh…get inside…oh my gosh (closes door)
(door opens again)
A1: MOMMY! NO SMOKING!”
Can we say mortified?
I’ve made countless vain attempts in quitting. I’ve made a gazillion promises to friends and loved ones, solemn oaths and public social media announcements. I’ve quit smoking WAY more times than I quit drinking. Just like any relapse, I was immediately hooked after the first cigarette. It has been, by far, the hardest addiction to crush.
I remember my first sponsor telling me she used the 12 steps to quit smoking, so…that’s what I’m going to do.
Seriously. I am.
I know you don’t believe me.
I wouldn’t either.
But mark my mother effing words: I. WILL. QUIT. SMOKING. CIGARETTES!
Tomorrow is Day 1, Step 1.
Resolution (past & present): How can we possibly summon the resolution and willingness to get rid of such overwhelming compulsions and desires? – 12&12, Step 7, p.73
Up until March 30th, 2012, I had made many attempts at quitting the drink for various stretches of time. I talk about my final relapses in Part 2 of My Story, but there were many more during my drinking career. However, I would not have considered them relapses back then because, well, the intention was never to be done for good. I was always motivated by a major binge weekend of poor choices or a preceding consequence of some kind, wanting to prove to myself and everyone else that I wasn’t really an alcoholic ; even though in my heart of hearts, I knew I was.
So all of my “personal detoxes” and “breaks” were in vain. I’d stay sober just long enough, to feel good enough, to drink just enough, until there was NEVER enough.
Things were starting to look the same with the weed and as I mentioned the other day, that did not sit well with me. While I hadn’t suffered severe consequences from my MJ use like I did my alcohol consumption, I still did not like that I had taken it beyond harm reduction and was using it far more than I ever intended. It really wasn’t working for me the way it used to. I had heard that’s a very risky place for an alcoholic to be and I did NOT want to drink.
This THC break, it wasn’t the first time I made an effort to “slow my roll.” My sponsor (S3) graciously reminded me of that and suggested I not leave it out. She said that my saying that I accepted a challenge by my friend and just quit without sharing the rest was “flippant of me,” and she was right. I realized I better make sure to tell you the whole truth, so when I was looking for something else in my older posts, I discovered that I HAD already told you about my last 3 THC breaks. Ha! Whouldya look at that? I had forgetten (face palm.) You can read about that in Skeletons 2.15 – My Recovery Returned.
But of course, those weren’t the only times. I made multiple half ass vows with no solid motivations or accountability. For an alcoholic like me, 1 of 2 things needs to happen for me to get off my fucking ass and change the things that I don’t want to:
- I either need to be backed into a corner with an ultimatum with no other options, or
- want something so bad, I’d do anything to make it happen.
This time around, I quit MJ for reason #2. I still wasn’t ready to quit for good so I chose to reset my tolerance in order to build the momentum I need to get after what I really want out of this gift called life. I’m almost 40 years old and I’ve wasted enough time playing small. I have dreams and aspirations to pursue and I want to make them reality…BAD! Having reached official stoner status, I knew the weed would stand in my way if I didn’t do something about it once and for all.
Tuesday, May 21st was Day 30 and in the interest of rigorous honesty, I made it 29.75 days completely THC free. On Day 30 at 6:30pm, I chose to smoke simply to see how the first time would feel after that long going without. Before I did, I prayed…HARD. I prayed for the ability to be responsible and the willingness to quit for good if I couldn’t be. I prayed for the strength to use it the way I had originally intended or not at all. I laid it at God’s feet and said Amen.
Then I smoked. From 6:30-11:00, I took a total of 4 puffs, stayed up way past my bed time and did not go to bed stoned.
How did I feel about myself the next day?
For a moment, I felt bad. The “committee” in my head started shaming me for not making it a COMPLETE 30 days. But then I said FTS! Excluding my pregnancies and post partum, I was 100% clean and sober for the longest stretch of time, for the first time, by choice, EVER! I am beaming with pride and full of so much hope and I’ll be damned if I let anyone take that away from me, especially my own “stinkin’ thinkin’.”
My mindset has changed drastically and I have resolved that I never want to build a tolerance to THC ever again. I want to be able to rely on it for the medicinal benefits or for emergencies, like PMS, should I deem it necessary. Or if I am in a social environment where it’s an option and I feel like being “a part of.” None of that is a possibility if I go back to the way it was. I’m clear and firm on that. VERY!
Therefore, I have made a resolution: if I find myself using it beyond what I just stated above, then I will walk into a meeting and raise my hand high and proclaim with confidence that I am a newcomer, have the desire to never smoke again, and change my sobriety date. Never did I ever think I’d say that but I just did. I can’t believe it.
There God goes again, doing for me what I could not do for myself. Does it get any better than that? According to “The Promises” of Alcoholics Anonymous, you bet your sweet ass it does!
P.S. Today is Wednesday, May 22nd and I did NOT smoke weed today. Why? Cuz I didn’t feel like it. That’s why. To God be the glory.
Well, per usual, I’ve sat on composing this post. I know exactly what I want to write about but I simply wasn’t in the mood to sit down and write the damn thing.
To be totally honest, I wasn’t in the mood to do anything because I was still stuck in the pits of depression and had zero motivation. It takes a month (in my case, a little longer) for anti-depressants to start working. I remember when my last Rx kicked in. We had 2 bookcases in our play room needing to be assembled and I decided to build them both myself. I remember thinking “how am I doing this right now?”
I also noticed the change when I was outside with my daughters and was surprised at how chatty I was being with the neighbors. That’s how I knew the meds were working. I’m a people person and I love to talk but when I’m depressed, I don’t feel like being chummy with people. I just want to be invisible. I avoid eye contact, I ignore texts, I cancel or reschedule plans, etc.
Basically, I think my life sucks, therefore, I downright suck as a person.
Much like the person I was when I drank.
Today is Thursday, May 16th and I’m happy to report 2 things:
- On March 30th, I achieved 7 solid years of no alcohol entering my bloodstream.
- My new antidepressant kicked in a few weeks ago and I no longer feel like shit.
Those 2 things alone are worth sharing and celebrating but that’s not all.
Remember in my last post when I said I had stuff to talk about but I didn’t want to? And admitted that it WAS about the weed?
Well, truth be told, I became a stoner and I no longer want to be a stoner anymore.
There, I said it.
When the depression bitch slapped me into the pits of self-loathing, my MJ use escalated and my tolerance got super high. It had stopped working for me the way it used to and that did not sit well with me.
So I quit.
That’s right, I did.
I accepted a 30 day challenge with a friend and today is day 25.
Out of these past 25 days, there were 5 days where I had the strong desire to “take the edge off” when my kids were pushing me past my limits.
And I didn’t.
You guys, that blows my f’ing mind! Even when I was in the throws of my PMS that should have me locked up in a padded room away from all other humans, I didn’t want to smoke. “How could this be?” I wondered. I was dumbfounded but I guess that was God doing for me what I could not do for myself…AGAIN!
Does this mean I’ve been raising my hand as a newcomer in meetings and have changed my sobriety date? The answer to that is a definitive NO and here’s why:
- Tradition 3 of Alcoholics Anonymous states “The only requirement for membership is the desire to stop drinking.” I haven’t drank in 7 years, 1 month and 16 days. While I did not have the desire to quit drinking when I first came in, by the grace of God, I DO have the desire to never drink again. That’s why I keep going to meetings. I’m not changing my date. Period.
- I don’t have the desire to quit smoking pot for good. Not yet anyway. Maybe I will, maybe I won’t. Maybe I’ll choose not to smoke after this 30 days is up…or maybe I’ll keep going until I feel like it again. Or maybe I’ll smoke myself into an oblivion on day 31 and realize that I’ve been kidding myself this entire time and decide to raise my hand and change my date. Honestly, I don’t know.
I don’t have to know.
All I know is, I needed to hit the reset button and I don’t feel like smoking today.
To me, that’s fucking rad and I’m proud!
So I guess I’ll just have to wait and see.