I was tooling along in my sober car looking at all the fluffy pink clouds and glitter rain when it occurred to me that at nearly 6 months sober, I’ve still got a long row to hoe. Yes, I’ve endured the dreaded holidays, my birthday and other situations that made me less than thrilled to be the sole sober person. But the summer brings sun and warmth on the golf course and thoughts of drinking instantly fill me. Not that I’ve ever boozed it up that much while spanking whitey, but the thought still zoomed through my mind.
I spent every other weekend last summer completely bombed out of my mind for days at a time. Booze soaked up the minutes of my life robbing me of truly living. Honestly, I don’t know what I’ll do with my time this summer and it makes me a little nervous. I have started biking again and hope to keep up. The city that I live in has an amazing river trail that weaves through the city but it feels like you are in the woods. It’s so peaceful and I feel alive when I’m there. I fell off the exercise wagon when I boarded the booze bus. Riding the booze bus makes one lazy and fat and I’m glad I got off when I did.
Drinking and golfing don’t mix for me. The boyfriend and I like to golf on a small course that is run by the Veteran’s Administration. It’s one of the few things that we did outside of drinking. Most times, we would wake up hung over and hit the course only to stop on the way home and pick up more alcohol. We sometimes would golf with the managers of the apartment complex where the BF lives. They are a couple that is about 15 years older than us. The only time we golfed with them last year I had spent the entire night and morning getting black out drunk. I have no idea why the BF thought it would be a good idea for me to go golfing when I was not up to par (see what I did there? lol). I was walking like drunk people do, staggering along because my legs felt so heavy and I propelled my legs ahead of my body. I’m sure I looked ridiculous. By the third hole, I had stepped up onto the green before everyone had chipped their balls up. The BF hit a shot and hit me squarely in the leg causing an immediate goose egg and black bruise. I tried to laugh it off even though the alcohol wasn’t blocking all the pain. I was so drunk that I don’t really remember finishing the course. The management couple didn’t speak to us the rest of the summer. I felt embarrassed and guilty every time I saw them.
Hopefully, this summer will be more productive than last. I have to admit that I’m still thinking about how nice it would be to drink my time away.
Five months after my last drink and I still haven’t told many people that I’m not drinking. Even if I have told them, I haven’t given them all the horrible details. I just mention in passing that I haven’t had a drink for a long time. I’ve been thinking about why I haven’t told anyone. I hate admitting that I don’t tell anyone because I still have hope that I can someday have a drink. I know this is irrational and downright ridiculous. I’ve been down Moderation Road and it wasn’t a pretty trip. I end up fixated on how many more I have allowed myself. If I can stop myself, I spend the rest of the night in a pissy mood.
Here comes the really stupid part… my step father of 36 of my 45 years is a recovering alcoholic. He’s been sober for 35 years. He’s helped hundreds of people by sponsoring them in AA. That’s not the dumb part. My not telling him that I have a problem is.
My step dad is also my boss. He is the one person in this world that I’ve spent most of my life trying to impress. I never felt loved by him as a child. I was the kid who told him, “You’re not my dad”. I was a bratty nine year old who was devastated by my parent’s divorce and my mother’s remarriage two months later. I never gave him a chance and he never gave me one until I started working for him. So, I’m hesitant to disappoint him. Not to mention that I don’t want him to think I’ve been a bad employee.
I’m not sure how much longer I will wait to talk to him. I really don’t prescribe to the whole 12 Step process. I have no desire to sit in a room with other people judging me. He is a die hard believer that the only way to get sober and stay that way is with AA. I’ve had that pounded into my brain since I was nine. So, I think I’ll keep my secret for now.
This is nice sobriety application that I started using a month or so into it. I liked that you have to physically check off the date or the counter is reset to zero. Today, I realized that I hadn’t checked the app in almost a week. I guess that means I’m either busy or that this sobriety thing is beginning to become habit without having to have an application keep track.
Work was slow today so I ended up helping my mom do yard work at their rental property. I left in the early afternoon and was smacked right in the face with the urge to stop and get a drink. Whoa! Where the fuck did that come from? I was busy doing my thing never expecting that. So, I drove to the nearest home center and bought some long needed flooring and laid it all by myself.
I didn’t expect to feel so proud of myself. I love the way it turned out. It’s nice to have a clear mind that is able to perform tasks I never knew I was capable of.
I couldn’t come up with a title. In fact, I don’t even know what I want to talk about.
I’ve been working a lot lately at job #2. This is an agricultural research job that has me doing the same monotonous motions for 8 hours a day. It’s mindless so there is plenty of time to think.
Today I thought about how alcohol steals time from you. Being a binge drinker means that I would start drinking on a Thursday and not stop sometimes until Sunday night. There were short periods where I may have gone to bed only to get back up and start all over again. This time flew by. 3 days seemed like 4 hours to me. I realize now how much time I wasted not even being aware enough to know what was going on. Top all of this off with 5-7 days afterward of shame, guilt, anxiety and overall malaise and you have a miserable person.
I’m not sure that anyone knew just how much I was drinking. I drank every other weekend because I was away from my daughter. I know my mom could sense that I wasn’t well on Monday mornings after a long binge. I did tell her when I figured out that the strange anxiety I was feeling was due to booze although I didn’t tell her just how much I had to drink. I tried not to drink in front of my daughters, especially after they witnessed just how much I could drink to my embarrassment. My youngest daughter told me that I get annoyingly repetitive. This was not the example I wanted to set for my teen daughters. I feel the most shame about ever drinking like that in front of them.
When I divorced, I made a pact with myself never to drink alone. I followed that rule for a few years and then I found wine. I never cared for wine as it gave me a headache and I loved vodka so much but had become bored with it. A friend brought over a bottle of Riesling and I was smitten. I started treating myself to a bottle every night that I was alone. This love of wine came at the same time that I was watching my aunt die a slow horrible death from Melanoma. I guess I was drowning my sorrows. Wine became my friend after a very long day working in the sun in the fields. Looking back I realize how insane drinking after becoming dehydrated all day was. I lulled myself to sleep with a bottle only to wake up fuzzy and disgusted with myself.
So, I have no idea where I was going with this. Only that I’m happy to be sober and hoping that I can continue.