Alcohol

https://theawakening.live/2016/07/01/alcohol/

I stumbled across this blog post and it amazed me how much she feels like me about drinking except she has managed to quit.  But how she explains that she used alcohol to escape from her pain, to numb it.  I am so lucky that physically I feel good.  I do feel good.  I am lucky that I feel good!  Especially when so many people I know do not feel good.  And here I am feeling overall pretty darn good.  Thank God!  But I need to respect that and not fuck myself all up with drinking- I don't know what the long-term affects are inside of me.  And drinking makes me feel temporarily like shit.  Like I did drink recently and today I feel so dry.  Very dry skin, and I've spent a lot of time in the sun this summer so I am already feeling like my skin is dry and add in vodka, well... it's icky.  And this battle of trying to guzzle water in order to make up for the drinking is stupid.  And I get these terrible leg twitches and cramps, headaches, and like she explains here- it fucks with my sleeping.  And I like to sleep!  I am not a napper but I like to sleep well at night.  When I drink I do not sleep well.  I sleep for a couple hours then I wake and I am up for the rest of the night.

I drink to escape emotional ache.  Not physical.

It's a real bitch.  I gotta find a way to get past this.  Yeah I do feel sad over James not being here, and it's a sadness I've felt for 33 months now.  I've missed him every single day he has been gone, no lie.  It's no fun but I'm going to have to deal with it some other way, not drink to try and numb the ache which often does not work because like she explains here drinking makes me more emotional anyway; it makes me feels sadness even more.  I'm just hazy then.  And I'm a mom.  I don't drink enough to pass out or anything like that, although in the past I did.  I've tried very hard not to go to that place.

Another really bad thing about me when I drink is I have a high tendency to "black out."  Where I am still functioning but I have no recollection of it whatsoever.  And that is damn scary.  I guess some women are more prone to blacking out and I am one of them, and I am sure that is just wonderful for my brain, memory, etc.  Not to mention there was at least one time in the past when I blacked out and PJ was little, at home with me.  Only by the grace of God did he stay safe.  I must have been able to function half-way decent and get him into bed even though I don't remember doing it, and YES I know the horrors that could have happened.  Clearly.  This is why I try to make sure I do not drink that much any more.  I drink but not enough to not know what I am doing or pass out.  Not saying that is okay.  I hate it.  I just hate it.  And know I don't share any of this lightly.  I am damn lucky I've stayed safe and my son protected in the past the few times I drank far too much when I was alone with him.  I never intended to, BTW.  I hurt way more in the past.  It was a different more scary pain.  Now I just ache.  I am not afraid.  Just sad.

And you know what gets me, and I am going to say it here.  In this article she says, "My husband and I talked about it..."  She is lucky.  She has emotional support in having her husband with her to help support her emotionally.  I do not have that.  I am alone with my child.  I remember when James first was gone and PJ was only three years old.  Oh fuck me- my guidance did everything it could back then to get me to not drink because my emotional state was way out of control and drinking made me suicidal.  Maybe you are reading this shaking your head thinking "She needs to heal."  Well let me tell ya- I am fine with my past.  I love my parents and I feel so blessed that they are married, very much in love, both healthy and both retired now so they can spend time together.  I don't really feel like I have all this "healing" to do.  Yet I find it hard doing this all on my own.  It would be so much easier to have that special shoulder to lean on.  Warm strong arms to wrap around me.  To be able to be vulnerable with my other half.  I realize I DID have that with James when I first met him.  He is that supportive type of man; I am sure of it.  Humans were created to have mates- most of us long for that connection and "relationship."  When you are with the right person it makes life that much easier to handle.  Addiction runs in my family and if a person has that pull, especially a person who misses someone special every day of her fucking life, it's a challenge is all I am saying.  It is a real challenge.  I wish I had James here with me.  I wish I had him as my loving husband, mate, partner in crime, confidant, buddy... yet I am alone.  And sometimes that is overwhelming for me but I can't drink it away.  It does not go away with alcohol and then I feel even more like shit from drinking.

Just so sick of it.  I might not have him in my life right now but I am going to have to do what I do best, and that is be as strong as possible.  Strong enough to either not drink at all or be super careful.  And I don't want AA.  It's just not me.  So I don't know.  I'm going to do my absolute best to stay as sober as I can, on my own.  I'm not addicted in that I can go days without drinking but the temptation to use alcohol as a crutch is strong and it is a temptation I have to overcome.  I'm pretty sure James' comment to me at the bar was his way of trying to tell me not to drink so much, that he knows I am struggling, and it was the only way he could say it. I tell myself if he was here and could be himself with me again then he'd be supportive, loving and accepting of me, and he'd help me stay on track.  *sigh*

She says here that she has to allow herself to feel it.  Not escape the emotions but allow herself to feel them.  Not much else I can do either.  Hence the crying.  I can't not feel my emotions and in 33 months I have not learned how to block them or transfer them to joy so... maybe for now all I can do is feel them and deal accordingly.

Here is her blog post.

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Today marks the one month anniversary for starting this blog, and I am excited to say there has been an uptick in views, comments, and shares. I want to thank everyone for following me along this journey. To those that comment, I enjoy the feedback. My close friends and family that help edit these blogs, thank you as well. I know there have been some late nights, but my heart is full of gratitude. Further, I want to thank all of my Facebook friends and family for the pictures they allow me to use when making memes. This project has been a wonderful collaboration from the beginning.


Writing this blog has been an insightful tool for me. It helps when I am able to write down my feelings, and I share them with hope they help others find their inner peace. Take today for example. I woke up in a lot of pain. My lower back has been bothering me now for over a decade. Although cannabis helps me regulate the pain, it will peak at certain times and hurt like the dickens. I used to drink a lot during these time periods, usually Grey Goose. The doctors put me on narcotics, muscle relaxers and more, all of which I was able to stop taking (thanks to cannabis). At one point, I  began getting steroid injections into the base of my spine as well. Not much time had passed when I learned these shots cause bone density loss. My husband and I both talked, and neither of us thought it was a good idea to continue them. Hell, they only worked for three weeks at best anyway. At any rate, I had been doing everything right, but nothing seemed to work.

There were times I’d think, is this all in my head (even though I’ve had two MRI’s done)? Somehow my brain was trying to trick me, that this couldn’t really be a problem at my age. However, I knew my drive for life. I didn’t like to rest, that’s why meditation was such a hard thing for me to master. I knew I didn’t like anything getting me down. When I drank, my pain (physical and emotional) was numbed, enabling me to live a somewhat “normal” life. Before I knew it, I was waking up to a screwdriver and ending the evening with a martini. Honestly, this feeling of despair, loneliness, and doubt blanketed me. What was the point anyway? It would take me many years to realize that that is the point. I drank to cover the pain, to hide it. How could I ever feel alive and hopeful while living in a cloud of darkness? I couldn’t. I spent much of my life running, trying to escape the darkness that I had literally attracted it to me. I couldn’t handle it and decided to numb myself with alcohol, causing me to miss out on the beauty around me. I was left in a dark world of my own creation. I thought I was covering my pain with alcohol, anything to not hurt. It took me a long time to understand we reside in the physical world, but are not of it. As of now, I allow myself to feel it, but that doesn’t mean it goes away.

Physical pains come and go, making it easy to mistake what’s real and what’s not. We call this reality, and consider it real, yet none of it is. Physical pain causes us suffering, reminding us that this place is not met to become attached to. However, sometimes the signals of pain can test a person’s resolve. For instance, today was the first time in many months that the temptation to drink consumed me. A new section of my back has begun to hurt, and I’ve a doctor’s appointment to check it out, but the pain has begun to intensify.

Here’s the thing. We speak of positive talk and only positive talk, but there is always a duality in life. In ignoring the negative, by trying to never speak of the darkness, we feel we have overcome something. There is a catch though. There is nothing to overcome. Life isn’t a matter of good and bad, it’s simply how do you want to feel? I began to think of how I felt when I drank. Sure I was able to move around physically, but for starters, I’d pee all the time. Then there’s the nagging problem of not being able to sleep, and when I’d drink myself silly to pass out, my sleep was intermittent at best. My skin lost its elasticity, I had headaches, hot flashes, irregular bowl movements, loss of appetite, a rollercoaster of feelings (usually negative), etc. It didn’t take me long to realize alcohol truly wasn’t what I was wanting. The only way I overcame the temptation was in pulling myself into the now. Each time it hurt, and I let my thoughts run away, I realized I wanted alcohol. When I allowed myself to think of the alcohol and the pain, I was able to decide which feelings did I like better? I knew my connection to source would sustain me, and I asked for the strength to continue on this path. Soon, my desire for a drink was gone, and I smiled at my resolve. It was freeing to choose my path, rather than hide in the bushes.~~~~~~Namaste