A Brave New World and...Stuff

      So, my first inclination was to start this post with an apology or a self-deprecating statement because I haven't posted in almost a week. But, really, who am I accountable to? Just me. I am grateful for any who read this, and I hope that my words help you in some way, but I cannot and will not add any unnecessary pressure to my life.And if I think about this blogging adventure I have embarked upon, I'm the only one who ever set any expectations around it. No more. I will post when I need to work something out. I will document my journey so, that one day, my children may read it and understand their mama a little better. I will continue to use this outlet to read, read, read (so many new and wonderful posts from many of my favorite blogs) and write when I might have something to really say. Or not, I might just ramble and process, and that's okay too. Phew, setting some self-boundaries, this shit is hard! But kinda cool, ya know?!

       I'm working hard to bring in day 30. Six teeny tiny days to go. I'm focusing less and less on the facts that I'm an alcoholic and can't drink. I'm starting to focus more on the things I want to change and the way I want to live my life going forward. In spite of myself, AA is part of that forward motion. Maybe that's why I haven't written as much. I've hit a meeting a day, on a couple of days, I hit two. I am checking out the Big Book and the Steps and haven't decided yet if I want to work those things into my sobriety path. I do know, though, that I need to be around the people in those rooms. They are like me. They get me. They accept me. I learn from them. I laugh with them. I need to learn and laugh.

      I am still struggling to find my routine. My sober-life ritual. My sober self. Hell, the ridiculousness of that thought- of course I am still struggling. It's. Been. 24. Days. Patience. Kindness. Acceptance. Serenity. Relationship with self. These are my goals.

       I have a client, with whom I have been working with for several months. I really like her. She is so self-aware and really quite emotionally healthy. She has some blockages that we are working through. Blockages that are not the same as mine ( that would be unethical), but the solutions are the same. As she is growing and realizing and identifying, I can't help but wonder why I can't just therapize myself and be just as okay. I can over-analyze myself right out of my own answers, but yet help clients walk straight into theirs. The solution is so stinkin simple. The solution to finding my best me is already somewhere inside of me. Change is a choice. Change is a journey. Change is scary and challenging and rewarding and exciting all at once.

        It's confusing, getting to know oneself at 35. I still have years and years of old tapes are often on "autoplay". I know how to press "pause" today, even if just for a moment. I am working everyday to record new tapes. I will hopefully learn how to press "stop". I am on emotion and thinking overload and even in meetings, it is difficult to pull all of my million sober thoughts into some intelligible form. I think this is encouraging. I could get upset and full of shame that processing newer, healthier thoughts is so difficult right now, because I spent so much active drinking time under toxic thought. Instead, I choose to feel encouraged. The fact that I am a disjointed mess means I am really starting to dig. I am starting to feel. I am starting to allow myself to open up to the possibility that I am going to be okay and rock this sobriety thing, even when it sucks (and I have had some sucky days). That, to me, is courage. That is a bravery I don't think I've experienced my entire adult life. It's a brave new world, indeed, and I am happy to ramble and stumble my way around.

Thanks for stickin through and getting to the end of this one. I hope there was at least one nugget that you took away.
xxoo
       

Gratitude Wednesday

Going forward, I'd like to dedicate Wednesdays to Gratitude and Saturdays to Things I've Learned. I'd love to hear from others (all the time) but particularly on these days. Join in! It'd be such an honor to share in your moments of gratefulness and learn from your own gained knowledge each week.

So, without further ado,  here goes the first Gratitude Wednesday of many.............

• I am thankful that I drove at 11 o'clock at night completely sober and coming from a meeting, not a bar or liquor store tonight. As a result, I have also confirmed my need for glasses during night driving ( never knew if it was the booze or my eyesight making it hard to see)
• I am grateful for AA
• I give thanks to this Recovery Blogging community I have found
• Happy to say that I stayed home from work today and actually worked from home honestly and not half-assedly. Happy I stayed home truly because my sitter was ill and not because I was hungover. Grateful for my desire to live honestly.
• My mid-month bills are already paid and my house is still clean from Saturday cleaning day- this is miraculous and I am beyond thankful
• My friends rock. My family rocks harder. Grateful
• 18 days, 18 days, 18 days!!!!!!!!!!!!!!!!!!!!!
• My husband who is taking on a whole lot of tasks over the next two days off. By doing so, he is helping me learn to let go of some control. (that's another post entirely and one of my many vices I need to recover from) Thanks babe!
• Finally, because its late and I am jeopardizing feeling joyful in the morning the later it gets, I am appreciative of my willingness to grow, be uncomfortable, learn, and be patient; all of which would not be possible without the support system and people within it that I am building. You all included, so thank YOU!

Goodnight. Be well, cheers!

1....2....3....Shuffle

      Sighhhhhhhh. It feels so peaceful sitting here with my green tea and laptop. It's a quiet house with all three littles asleep and hubby at work. I have missed this, the last few nights. There is something about the stillness of the house that I really have learned to embrace in this short, but long, 17 days. It's strange, this new love of still and serene; quiet and still was typically when my head grew loud and the wine got poured. I am beginning to see that the vino and vodka just made everything louder.

I would drink more in a miserable attempt to mute the deafening cluster of thoughts that would keep coming. Finally, I would pass out.

    If I'm being honest, I haven't really embraced pure silence. I still must have the sound of my thoughts spilling onto the pages of this blog. The flow of feelings written into my journal is just audible enough to keep me company. Other nights, I need the murmurings of mindless TV or the steady voices of a podcast to make an otherwise soundless house feel safe enough to sleep in. Safe from my own thought patterns and tendencies. Safe from  liquid aid to drown out all of my fears, regrets, and worries. I will learn how to be still with my own thoughts amidst silence. I am inching towards that place each sober day, every abstinent hour, every courageous minute.

    My what dances we dance with ourselves, eh? As an active drinker, I would dance what I thought was a sexy mambo. A game of hard-to-get; a catch-me-if-you-can. Since deciding to change my life by being sober, I have been trying to waltz. Slowly, gracefully, intentfully. I glided beautifully along for the better part of two weeks. It is in the last few days that I have begun to do a shuffle.

   As you (may or may not) know, I started checking out AA last week. I am still doing so. I am taking what I want and leaving what I don't. I am building a network of support. I am sketching out what my path to recovery looks like and designing how I want to construct my own sobriety. Blogs, podcasts, books, and AA are aiding in these endeavors. I continue to learn the more receptive I am to listening (or reading).

     As I have been sitting in the rooms of AA, I am beginning to consider the steps and what they mean to me; how I might work them in my own way, in my own time, in a manner which makes sense to me. I thought I had steps 1-3 down. You know, the steps about admitting we were powerless over alcohol, finding and believing in a higher power (HP), and handing our will to drink over to that  HP? Easy shit, right? I thought I'd master this sobriety thing much like I excel at most things I attempt (humble much, Jill?!). It dawned on me today, I haven't even really accepted I am an alcoholic. Let the 1,2,3 Shuffle commence!

        Wow, I'm realizing how long this post may be. That's what happens after three solid days of not getting it all out. I'm gonna keep going, even if you don't keep reading :)

    Rationally, logistically, intellectually, I know I am incapable of drinking like a normal person. I know that it has been but a few rare occasions that I have been able to have just one drink, regardless of how long in between drinking episodes I can manage to go. This is hard and cold fact as evidenced by countless examples of being much drunker than I intended to be. I know my life, at times, has been unmanageable. This is evidenced by arguments with my husband, hangover days which were taken as vacation or sick days, car accidents, DUI, children seeing their mother passed out on the couch in the morning from the night before, missed bill deadlines, avoidance of social obligations....need I go on? You get the picture.
  
       It seems reasonable, then, that if I were to commit myself to working the steps of AA, that it would be easy to race past the first one with ease. Powerless and unmanageable. But I'm not powerless, I cry. My life is not unmanageable, I declare. If i were powerless, I would be drinking right now. If my life were unmanageable then how do I have such a great family, career, friends, material things? If I can go a whole 17 days without a drink, surely one glass of wine, or one shooter of vodka, will be just enough to calm the nerves. NO. NO. NO. "Been there, done that," I rebut. I am powerless over alcohol once I take the first sip. My life is unmanageable when I am drunk or hungover, regardless of whether I was still looking good on the outside and maintaining "high functionality". Repeat after me as many times as I need to believe what I say: I am an alcoholic. I am an alcoholic. I cannot drink normally. I do not want alcohol to be a part of my life. I am an ........... On to Step Two, and the dance continues.

         Do I believe in God? In the universe? In a higher power? In the Big Bang? Evolution? Self-actualization? Psychology and Biology? Astrology and Spirituality? Monotheism? Polytheism? Willpower? Self-determination? AA and Blogging? Cognitive-behavioral, emotionally focused, and solutions focused therapy? Yes. I believe in all of it. Do I believe just one of them has to be my higher power? No. Then why do I get stuck at this point? Why do I revert back to questioning the severity of my problem? 1, 2.....shuffle.  Maybe, this is enough; believing in all of these things is enough. Maybe understanding a higher power, as I understand it, is accepting that I CANNOT DO THIS ALL BY MYSELF. Even if all I did was write, I am using a tool and therefore, I am not acting on willpower alone. Maybe, my higher power is a desire to be the best version of me.

        So who then, do I turn my will over to? At what point do I say my life is in the hands of ___________ ( insert a higher power here)? Maybe I am turning it over to a new way of doing things. Maybe, washing my face, taking off my bra, spending quiet time with me before bed every night instead of drinking and passing out is turning over my will and life. I am changing. I am growing. I am regressing. I am coping. I am baffled. I have no answers except that I. Am. Still. Sober. In so many ways, my life has changed incredibly in less than 3 weeks. It is not perfect. I hope it never is. It is my life and I am me. I am clumsy, so there will always be flaws and mistakes and surprises. But, if every day, I strive to face myself and my life willing to learn new steps, new moves, and learn from a variety of instructors, then I know I will become a much better dancer.

Thanks for listening. This felt disjointed. I am grateful, though for the opportunity to get it out, process it, and slowly feel more pieced together. I am also grateful to continue reading many of your writings and to hopefully help you as you read mine.

Quaking Aspen

 

          If you've ever been fortunate enough to see Aspens in the fall, you know what a spiritual experience this can be. Being on a mountain, looking in every direction for miles and seeing the bright yellows, and sometimes, reds, oranges, and of course greens is a truly humbling experience. I am blessed to live in an area where we are surrounded and it is part of our landscape. It is truly awesome, in every sense of the word and, if but for one moment, when you calmly take a breath and appreciate the beauty of it, you are at peace with yourself. Aspens, in my very humble opinion, are beautiful year round: when they are stark and bare in the winter, a florescent green in spring, a lively green in summer, and of course the golden autumn hue. 

         

         Aspens symbolize determination. They are symbolic of overcoming fear and doubt. They have also been linked to renewal and transformation. I love the symbolism of overcoming and determination. How can these small and frail trees, with their thin and quaking leaves, withstand harsh mountain winters? How can they, year after year,  come back even stronger and more beautiful? To an unknowing eye, seeing these delicate trees shaking and quaking in the fierce wind, one might bet on their impending doom. But these tall poplars are not as fragile as they seem. They are strong and they are many. In fact, it is rare, if not impossible, for a single Aspen to stand alone. They grow in root communities, each trunk linking roots to another and building more as a community. One of the greatest privileges in my life has been to stand in the middle of an Aspen grove, taking in their beauty, listening to the whispers of the quaking leaves in the wind, and pondering how old the trunk root systmes underneath my feet might be, and how mighty.

        I felt like a Quaking Aspen today. My journey through sobriety will likely be very much like the seasonal cycle of these brave trees. My day was harsh. I started the morning summer and lively green. By the afternoon, I was still feeling golden, but feeling the seasons change. By this evening, I was stark and bare. I am in a place of calm and determination, now, tonight, and feeling spring around the corner. 

        I attended three AA meetings in the last 36 hours. And it is something I will continue to do. I may not fully buy-in to the rigid prescription of it all, but I needed this AA outlet the last two days.  Not because I was white-knuckling or craving a drink, but because, like the Aspens, I too needed to attach my roots to a stronger grove of trunks. Because, this is the first time I have ever been sober. I have had many stints of abstinence. I have gone periods, here and there, where I have not drank. Those periods, however, were all vain attempts to control my drinking, or moderate, or prove to  myself (and whoever around me at the time had concerns) that I just enjoyed drinking and did not have  a problem controlling my habit. 

         Now, for the last 13 days, I have entered a state of true sobriety. It has been a long and meaningful almost-two-weeks. It has been emotional and lovely, all at once. I have been working very hard on creating new habits that promote self-care, honesty, and acceptance. I have a fight ahead of me. I need all the determination I can muster. I need multiple forms of support. As I face seasonal transformations, I need a grove of safety. AA, this Blog, other Recovery Bloggers, healthy habits, quiet and daily reflection time, my family, my friends, and myself- these support systems and tools are my Aspen Grove. I am going to shake and quake and lose my leaves, and change my colors, but as long as I keep my roots attached to what keeps me safe, I too will  grow tall and mighty and strong. As will you. I'd be honored if you joined my grove, as well.

Lost in My Own Bathroom

           I am notorious for getting lost, misreading maps, asking for directions in terms of left and right vs. east and west. It's a long standing joke with both myself and all those who know me that I can get lost in my bathroom. Thank goodness for smart phones, GPS, and navigation systems which have made my directionally-challenged self much less anxious when driving in unfamiliar territory. This whole sobriety thing reminds me of the good ol' days when I couldn't rely on nifty technology to find my way around. I would learn one way to get somewhere, make note of landmarks, and go the same way every time.

           I am learning my way through a life without drinking. Turning left and finding AA, but questioning if that's the direction in which I am supposed to go. Turning right and wondering if I'm really an alcoholic and maybe just fell into a nasty habit (wow, the bullshit we tell ourselves!). I've decided to stay straight ahead and not worry about the destination as much as the journey. Holy cliché. Holy truth.

          Today, I was tasked with picking Middle up from practice while Hubby and Little ran errands. I knew exactly where he was and exactly how to get there from our house. The problem was I was coming from my office, after 2 morning clients. I popped in the address of the park and headed on my way. Somewhere along my drive, I got lost in my head (see? always lost!) and despite the navigation blaring through my Bluetooth, I missed my exit. I took the next one and turned off the navigation, determined to find my way. After all, I have lived here almost 12 years, surely I can figure this out. That sober tenacity was taking over and showing me the way! I found him with ease, 20 minutes early, and all was well.

         That small and insignificant missed-exit adventure invoked a lot of introspection and thought. As I was fumbling my way across familiar streets and headed in the direction of the park, I passed not one, not two, but three liquor stores I have been to. No big deal, right? It makes sense that a drinking person would have frequented a liquor store once or twice. These stores were nowhere near my house or either office. One I had ran to right before a big meeting at a different location one day. Another, I stopped at on my way to an event. The last one I found after driving aimlessly one day and too embarrassed to go to the one near my house since I'd been there twice already.

          My body shuddered as I recalled these liquor store visits. As I continued forward to pick up Middle, I then started thinking of the many different office locations I have had, the neighborhood in which I live, and the main routes of travel I take every day. I could tell you where the closest liquor stores are, which ones have the wine I like. Which ones don't have the Raspberry Smirnoff, but another flavored kind. Which ones require a purchase over $5 to use your debit or credit card and which ones close at 10, 11, and Midnight. Furthermore, I can tell you the succession of stores I would frequent on a weekend: MY store ( the closest one, the one with the drive-thru, the one that would have 4 minis and a bottle of red ready as soon as I pulled up) would be first because its convenient and just need 4 minis to help me clean the house. Then, those would run out and I'd go a bit down the street in either direction, and often rotate between the two stores,  for 2 more minis and vino. Finally, I'd go a good 12 minutes away late at night to the one that doesn't close until midnight so I could get just a couple more minis to close my mind and eyes for the night.

            For a girl who "gets lost in her own bathroom" I sure as hell never had any problem finding a liquor store and establishing a routine relationship with it. It is as this moment of recollection that I realize I have no choice but to keep straight on this sober path. Turning left into AA may not work for me, I'll save that adventure for another day, another blog. Turning right and believing that I am NOT an alcoholic means turning right into a familiar liquor store and this time, perhaps upping the order. I might get easily lost, but my time as a drinker has proven that I can find my way around anything if I truly want to. I know today that I am that important. My best me is ready to make an entrance and I am happy to keep driving straight to go pick her up.