On Friday, day 130, I was taunted and tormented by cravings all afternoon, unlike anything I’ve felt since the first couple of weeks without alcohol back in November/December. And I am home alone for a few days. Oh, ugh.
While I sincerely appreciate the little cravings for their reminder that my mind-(and body-)set can change in an instant — going from contented, grateful, and finding it impossible that anyone with years of sobriety under their belt would ever go back — the big constant flashback rattling ones I can do without. Ugh.
I was Continue reading
In my post a few days ago I said that I wasn’t sure why I was ruminating on my strange lack of association with the concept of early sobriety. Denial, I guess, though it doesn’t have all the bells and blinking lights I associate with big-D denial.
I think the reason the realization was important is that I am reminded that I really need to slow down. I have it in me Continue reading
Today is day 49 for me, and I can’t tell you how glad I am that I got a run at 2017. That wasn’t the plan — I just quit (again) on November 21 and god damn it, it finally stuck (again).
I’m in an interesting space. Getting past the first 10 days is so lovely. But I remained preoccupied, and then reaching 30 brought more great relief. I think this is the first time I’ve hit 30 days since the first time I quit in spring of 2015. (I feel so ashamed to admit that. I know I “shouldn’t.” But damn it I do. I promised myself I’d be honest on this blog, so there it is.) But I’ve stayed preoccupied in a low-grade way. Not craving, exactly, but wanting. I have a low-grade missing of my IPAs. A gentle nervousness Continue reading
I feel really happy these days about my alcohol-free Fridays. Such a nicer way to live. I am sure the occasional twisted craving will strike at random times on future days (maybe even tomorrow), but for now all is quiet and calm.
Happy Friday, everyone.
The more time goes by, the more I see into my idiosyncrasies and understand why it was so hard for me to care for myself, for so long.
The other day something in me was screaming that it wanted to be all alone in a cabin in a distant forest, drinking myself into oblivion. The urge, in the form of this thought, was so strong. I held it. I went over to it to try to see and hear and feel more closely what was up. Why the tantrum? What did it consider so insanely important to get?
Here is what I slowly saw. Continue reading
To me, quitting alcohol is not so much a thing in itself as it is a component of finding peace within myself. Finding some place to be quiet, warm, content, peaceful. Quiet.
Alcohol was part of my racing around looking for this. It was a major element of my resistance to myself (though not at all the only one) — resistance to my own peace, to my anxiety, to my fears. I’m convinced that peace is found on the other side of letting go of that resistance. The layers are many and subtle. It’s the journey. Continue reading
I thought I would pop back over here to say that I … still exist. Am happy and plugging along. Have so much to babble on about self-medication, peace and pure consciousness (experience of and reading about, depending on what hour of what day), steadiness and distraction, holding firm in the face of strong, loud, uncomfortable emotions so as to eventually melt them out of me. But not today.
Life is good; I continue Continue reading