This disease we call alcoholism is and was confusing. I often sit and wonder or talk to my husband about how I came to be an alcoholic. If I had married him first, would I have become an alcoholic? If I wasn’t in an abusive marriage that lead me to drink more than I should have. To escape the thoughts of knowing my ex was cheating and not being able to prove it and he making me feel like I was crazy. If I didn’t find him so disgusting that I craved to just get loaded and escape.
I don’t know when it triggered that I lost control of my drinking. I just know wine, beer, whatever booze there was, was my go to and coping mechanism for many years.
Is it possible that I wouldn’t of become an alcoholic if I met and had kids with my now husband instead of what and who I did marry? Is it just in our genes that one day it just hits?
I often wonder, if I could go back with the amazing husband I have now, would it be different? Would I be able to drink like a normal person? Or would I have the same result just in a different way or outcome.
I do know one thing, if I could go back I wouldn’t pick up a drink to test it out.
I don’t like to wonder where I would be now if my husband and kids didn’t save me from myself.
This is Being Me Sober…
Did you ever try diluting your drinks?
If you’ve ever said to yourself and others, maybe I’ll try diluting my drinks so it won’t be so potent and maybe I won’t freak out, black out, or do anything but pass out!
I use to blame it on not eating before/while I drank. It would buy me some time between slip ups and I could still drink. Excuses.
I also thought it was because I was close to my monthly visit from The Lady in Red…
I thought maybe the wine had to much alcohol content.
I’m sure there are some really good excuses out there that I never thought of. They were and are all excuses trying to be in constant denial of not being able to control my drinking.
I finally realized that diluting my drinks was not helping and I eventually came to the same result every time I drank.
Moderation was never for me. Why drink if you aren’t going to get drunk. What’s the point? Why drink?
Diluting, excuses and denial will never help us.
This is Being Me Sober
Today is May 24th 2017 and as I sit in our backyard oasis, I’m reflecting on how far I, we have come in my sobriety and life. I say we because it is a joint effort for all involved with my and your sobriety. They’ve gained just about as much as we have in the journey of being me sober.
Tomorrow marks 8 years of sobriety for me. I can not say enough about how much sobriety ROCKS!!!!
When I approach another year I always look back and remember where and who I was. Each year however is different, if you dare to believe it, I become stronger, more self assured, less insecurities, less anxious, more and more complete, and most of all, happy.
Gosh, 8 years ago I went on my last bender. It was a doozy let me tell ya! I drank, binged, for about 20 hours straight. I fell face first, not the first time, into the garden bed. I made a fool of myself infront of my son, daughter and my now step children. I drank all my daughters friends mom’s rye and yelled at her for telling me to stop drinking, “really? I said, “that’s funny coming from you.” Was I that cruel? I woke up my father at 3am in Florida to come get me. I swore it was over with me and my now husband. I went back home and downed my anti depressant pills. I wanted to die. I needed a doctor. I need help. I want to die. I thought it was all going to pass over.
It was May 24th 2009 that I checked myself into the hospital to get help. To get away from these people. To get as far away from them as possible. They can’t see me like this, they deserve so much better than me! I’m ashamed of myself, I’m so full of rage, I want to die. I told them to get away from me, that I wanted nothing to do with them. Hope they will listen, I thought, then I can be alone. I want to die.
I was put in the emergency room with charcoal and a bucket. Ugh gosh, that sucked! I just want to sleep. I’m so exhausted.
There was a doctor that came in and asked a bunch of questions which I am fuzzy on, but I think I gave him the gist of why and what I was doing there. I was starting to surrender. I was starting to succum to my disease and allow myself to let go. I want to be sober, I want to be happy, I want to be me again.
I begged my boyfriend to forgive me and take me back and made a promise to our children that I would never drink again, I kept that promise!
I want to live and be free.
This is Being Me Sober.