Monday

It’s hard to corral away time to write here. But I need to stay present. So here’s a Monday hello.

I have so many balls in the air. Slipping behind on some client work, have to do the first spring bee hive check (at least a couple of weeks late on that), have have have to get my partner’s taxes done (this is not even 2020 🙂 ), need to build modular fences for the raised bed to replace the ugly ones from last year and to have something to stretch the insect cloth over to protect my kalesies from the pretty but evil cabbage moths, need to get a roofer to patch the hole in the roof that’s causing the peeling paint on my apartment ceiling in home #2. And so on. Writing about sobriety takes a back seat.

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On hot flashes and doom

Most mornings I wake up with my head and chest radiating heat, my skin sizzling, and my emotions pummeled by a horrid feeling of doom. The hot flash, as they are want to do, is gone within a couple of minutes. But it gives me an opportunity to come to myself, rescue, sit there with a self dwelling in a burning hell. Since I know it’s transient and I know the cause, that helps lighten the hell somewhat and give me a tiny bit of breathing room within which to practice … care. Love. Sympathy. Actions that I don’t come by easily when it comes to directing them toward myself. And from what I read, this situation is pretty damn common among drinkers.

These brief, regular bits of morning hell show me things. (The mornings are noteworthy now because the daytime flashes are dramatically reduced compared to five-six-seven years ago.) I’ve noticed that the whole idea of being present with myself has layers. The first, which for quite some time I thought was all there was, was simply not running away or tensing up / resisting. Running away with sugar, alcohol, compulsive email checking. (Which are admittedly difficult to implement while lying in bed in the morning. Maybe that’s also why these morning moments are instructive.)

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365

I closed the loop. Went from having a big bigger bigger number, 200, 300, 360, 365 …. to a little one: 1 year. But it’s a little one that feels very solid to sit on.

I have a circle now, the snake swallowed its tail, and I get to start retracing the circle again.

Cheers!

Oh how Continue reading

Sudden preoccupation with kombucha

Day 228. A couple of months into new territory, never having mosied past five or so months sober before. I noticed in month maybe three or four that I was wanting … chapters of some sort. Sobriety seemed, oh, featureless. Monotonous? If it’s monotonous (which it could be. after all, what is it, really?), okay. I’ll take it as monotonous. But I like rhythm, or signposts, or texture, or phases, weather, seasons.

Somewhere back there I forgot Continue reading

6 months

A few days ago I hit 6 months without alcohol, first time ever (since alcohol became such a thorough crutch 10-12 years ago). Whoooeeey!!

I like this.

It’s still not that easy. I mean, the not drinking is not particularly difficult these days, practically speaking. But in my own head/heart, things aren’t settled. Not too surprising, that.

One concept that has become particularly large Continue reading

Coffee, antiques, and deja vu all over again

You know how the early weeks and probably even years of sobriety include a steady stream of firsts, of revisits to old haunts, be they homes or bars or cities or campgrounds, that were sites of drinking or new relapses and now you’re overlaying a new experience/memory on the place. And sometimes it feels so freeing and other times it makes you sad and other times it’s just weird and you want to get it over with and go back to being warm and comfortable in your sober life? Continue reading

Why tempt fate

I was going to call this post “Personal Best,” but why tempt fate. Today is day 165, a few days longer than my previous longest continuous sobrieties. Still ambling along. If a bit superstitiously.

In the past couple of years I’ve had two very nice goes at continuous sobriety Continue reading

100 days

Three digits. Themselves a little reward. Thank GOD to be here (in the secular sense).
iced coffee
In an email to Belle this morning, I Freudian-typo’ed, “I NEVER WANT TO DO THE FIRST 100 YEARS EVER AGAIN.”

That, too.

Onward.

Thank you for being here.

Have a good one!

Adrian

100% happy and loved, 100% exhausted

Took me a while, but here are my thoughts post-family-reunion…:

Family reunion over — boom! Trees were wonderful. We had “trophy” rainbow trout in the pond outside the cabin window. (Kids were apparently allowed to catch and release, but not big people.) I got good sleep. Talked to people I haven’t seen in many years.

It was very strange. I’d been steadily, mildly concerned about Continue reading

Drowning in alcohol: chemical reminders

A week or so into this quitting-alcohol stint I brought alcohol into my life in a disgusting new way. Highly recommended.

In my non-urban home [because of an unplanned falling-in-love event nine years ago, I have two homes — my original beloved urban home where I live (and drank) alone and a newer 10-acres-outside-a-cool-small-town home with my partner (where I drank much less but did a lot of hiding of and thinking about alcohol)] … we have ticks. This year Continue reading

Desensitization in the beer aisle

I have this sadness about the beer bottles. I’d been steering clear of liquor stores over the past several weeks, but I went in one yesterday. The explosion of craft beer is still dizzying. I started getting into beer back toward the beginning of it (god, it’s entirely possible I wouldn’t have even developed a beer problem if the only beer available had remained the crap stuff). I realized a long time ago how Continue reading

In search of peace inside my own head

I got on a plane yesterday, and sitting in my row were two kids — in the 6/7-year-old range. I looked around for their adult and spotted a man across the aisle getting a couple of slightly older kids settled in their seats. Must be him. He seemed inattentive to these guys, though. I tried to catch his eye, and nothin’.

I asked the kids who they were with and they gleefully informed me that they were unaccompanied minors!!. Shit. The flight attendants were so happy to have a “mom figure” Continue reading