I'm back. I haven't been updating - but I will start again.
Being sober is hard. I was so smug the first couple of weeks. I was so ready. It was so surprisingly easy. Lesson learned! I knew it was to good to be true, that I just woke up, changed and carried on my merry way. It was to good to be true. This recovery thing is no joke. It only works if you do.
So I will surrender to the process. The setbacks. The hard days and the good ones. I will put in the work.
I went to the concert. 17 days sober. Pissed at God. Confident in myself that I had "dried out" and could have a few drinks like a normal person.
So I grabbed beer on the way home...to take to the concert of course. I drank one in the shower...then another while I was getting ready. Then drank the entire car ride to the concert. Again at the concert. Until my husband couldn't stand me anymore and we left. And I drank the whole way home.
Ooops. That didn't really go as planned.
Then my husband had plans with his friends that involved drinking that Friday. I told him, go! Have fun! You've been so good...you totally deserve it! Secretly because I knew if he was drinking that night I could take up my favorite past time. Drinking and Dateline on a Friday night! Peace and Quiet. Cold beer in hand...remote to myself. It was lovely. Had 4 beers. Went to bed...felt great the next day. See...I told myself....I can do this.
The following evening we took our kids to a show. I didn't drink at the show...not because it was a Disney Live show, but mainly because we didn't have the money and I knew my husband would never let me get away with it. So when we got home, and got the kids off to bed, I resumed position. I only drank 3... (do normal people feel the need to count I wonder?) I went to bed, felt great the next day. See...I told myself...this is so normal. Normal people drink a few beers on a Friday and Saturday night and don't beat themselves up about it and feel like a horrible person and decide they have a "problem". Clearly I was over reacting.
The following afternoon (a Sunday) we went to a BBQ. Of course everyone was drinking...because that's what our friends do when they get together. So I drank. I brought 2 with me. Drank those. Then drank the beers offered to me, 5 or so. Then got home and drank the stow away in the back of the fridge. And a nasty lime-a-rita thing that had been in there for awhile because I don't like them anyway. But desperate times....
I felt crappy... a little guilty. Ready to get back on the wagon I told my husband.
But then I found out that our favorite bar was closing and Friday night would be it's last night in business. My husband and I met there....I mean...we really should be there for their last night in business...it was the right thing to do. Plus we'd been "good" for almost a month. Oh! And it could be an end of one chapter, beginning of another right? Right. Although, if we are going to go out drinking...we really can't do that without drugs. Not if we're going to be drinking all night. Anyway...we've had a good run. *keep inserting justifications here* So we went. And partied. And $300 and a hangover later...it wasn't a bad time, wasn't a great time...at least what I remember. It was just more of the same.
I didn't want to beat myself up though about it. No. That's to uncomfortable. I had already proved I didn't have a problem by not drinking for 17 days in a row. I had only drank 5 days out of the last month, I could count that one 1 hand! *justify...justify....justify*
So Sunday night there were 3 beers in the fridge and I decided to drink them. I knew 3 wouldn't do the job though...I was going to need to get more. Long story short...long argument with my husband about it...trip to the store in which I basically snuck out of the house to get a 6 pack...answered a call from my 6 year old crying that I left without saying goodbye...more fighting with my husband when I got home and continued to drink. good times.
I got up in the morning and my husband had poured out the remaining beers in the fridge. I thanked him. He wasn't talking to me.
Ok...ok. This is not normal.
Today would have been 1 month sober for me. I couldn't even make it a month.
My point is this: It was so easy at first! Recovery isn't easy though. It is so fucking hard! Look how quickly I went from accepting my demons, accepting God as my truth and turning everything over to him...feeling such an overwhelming sense of peace...to getting sucked right back in and ending right back in the same cycle. This disease is no joke!
I can accept now...and mean it....that my recovery has to be priority number one for awhile. I need to change my "people, places and things". I can't put myself in situations that allow this disease to trick me into thinking its all good and I just got a little out of control. Ive been out of control for years. Ive gone years drinking literally every single day.
This isn't the life I want to have. This isn't how I want to be remembered. The isn't the reputation I want to precede me. This isn't the example I want to set for my kids.
I need to be more cognizant of relapse. I need to be more aware of how easy it is to relapse....not recover. Recovery isn't easy.
Nothing worth having is though.
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