is 2 bottles of wine a night a lot ?
is 2 bottles of wine a night a lot ?
When I finally copped to falling off the wagon, getting run over and dragged by it, I logged in. Shocking to see that almost 2 years have passed since my last log in. Two years. Two years of secrets, buzzes that didn't even please me in any regard any longer, justifying that two bottles of wine wasn't even that much in 4 hours. I kid you not, I really felt that. What scared me almost as much as the hangovers that would render me completely shot the day after drinking, was that after those two bottles of Chardonnay, I would go almost to a place of feeling sober. The first glass or two would buzz me, but as I continued to drink throughout the night, while there would be periods of blackout, I would smoke my last cigarette feelings sober. So downstairs I would head to take a couple of loonnnggggg pulls of the vodka just to be able to get myself to sleep. Pass out.
But then, about five hours later, all hell would break loose. But not just any hell. The seven levels of Hades would descend upon me in varying degrees starting at about 3:00 am.
Shocked and startled awake as I'm quite sure my CNS was borderline getting ready to shut down, I would receive a jolt of adrenaline so jarring I would literally feel like I had just been thrown in ice cold water. My heart would be pounding in my chest like it was begging for something to just settle it down. The thirst was inexplicable. The anxiety. The anxiety brought me to tears more than I care to remember. It's the anxiety that was the final tipping point back to sobriety. I simply could no longer live like that anymore.
As the day would rear its ugly face, I would assess if I was too hungover to go to work. Or if I could drag myself kicking and screaming to the shower which was an experience in and of itself. The panic in the shower would force me to leave the door open to get some air. The the toothbrush and I became fast enemies. Couldn't brush my teeth without gagging or the dry heaves. Sometimes I'd even throw up a little of my coffee. How lovely.
Having to give up driving as a result of hangovers I could not longer handle, I'd get in the car with my husband, put the air on cold, and try to breathe through what was surely my last day on earth. I would get to work and spend the next 7 hours trying really really hard not to pass out, fall over, have a heart attack, stroke, and die. I was always dying. Always. Every minute of every day was my last. And when It got so bad that I would actually start to pray for the end, I would take a Xanax. And after about an hour, my nerves would start to ease up on me.
Fast forward to getting home, no cooking for this momma. And god forbid, no going out to dinner. Those frazzled nerves couldn't bear the crowds, the chairs without arms that I couldn't balance myself in, the smells, the noise, the light. Upstairs I would drag myself, maybe another benzo so I could try to get some sleep and a vow that I would no longer drink. Then I would wake up with all intent to not drink that evening after work and then....well maybe just a glass of chard while I cook dinner. Bottle one done as I put the food on the table. Bottle two through dinner, clean up and relaxing. All the while as I'm drinking I'm thinking, I hate this. I haven't enjoyed a drink for at least a year. It no longer calms me, in fact it starts my heart pounding and my body flushes, and I would drink more and more trying to stop what I had started.
That was 14 days ago.
And grateful doesn't even cut it. On my knees in gratitude and grace and mercy.
Hi again.
But then, about five hours later, all hell would break loose. But not just any hell. The seven levels of Hades would descend upon me in varying degrees starting at about 3:00 am.
Shocked and startled awake as I'm quite sure my CNS was borderline getting ready to shut down, I would receive a jolt of adrenaline so jarring I would literally feel like I had just been thrown in ice cold water. My heart would be pounding in my chest like it was begging for something to just settle it down. The thirst was inexplicable. The anxiety. The anxiety brought me to tears more than I care to remember. It's the anxiety that was the final tipping point back to sobriety. I simply could no longer live like that anymore.
As the day would rear its ugly face, I would assess if I was too hungover to go to work. Or if I could drag myself kicking and screaming to the shower which was an experience in and of itself. The panic in the shower would force me to leave the door open to get some air. The the toothbrush and I became fast enemies. Couldn't brush my teeth without gagging or the dry heaves. Sometimes I'd even throw up a little of my coffee. How lovely.
Having to give up driving as a result of hangovers I could not longer handle, I'd get in the car with my husband, put the air on cold, and try to breathe through what was surely my last day on earth. I would get to work and spend the next 7 hours trying really really hard not to pass out, fall over, have a heart attack, stroke, and die. I was always dying. Always. Every minute of every day was my last. And when It got so bad that I would actually start to pray for the end, I would take a Xanax. And after about an hour, my nerves would start to ease up on me.
Fast forward to getting home, no cooking for this momma. And god forbid, no going out to dinner. Those frazzled nerves couldn't bear the crowds, the chairs without arms that I couldn't balance myself in, the smells, the noise, the light. Upstairs I would drag myself, maybe another benzo so I could try to get some sleep and a vow that I would no longer drink. Then I would wake up with all intent to not drink that evening after work and then....well maybe just a glass of chard while I cook dinner. Bottle one done as I put the food on the table. Bottle two through dinner, clean up and relaxing. All the while as I'm drinking I'm thinking, I hate this. I haven't enjoyed a drink for at least a year. It no longer calms me, in fact it starts my heart pounding and my body flushes, and I would drink more and more trying to stop what I had started.
That was 14 days ago.
And grateful doesn't even cut it. On my knees in gratitude and grace and mercy.
Hi again.
Amazing amazing post. Truly made me hurt for you. I had horrible anxiety problems while drinking too, was on benzos also. 4 months sober, and no benzos, no anxiety.
Congrats, so glad you're out of that hellish place.
Congrats, so glad you're out of that hellish place.
think a normal drinker to be
is 2 bottles of wine a night a lot ?
for me it would be two too many
think a normal drinker to be one more like my wife
a glass or two a day
not finished many times
as when I'm doing the dishes
I pour much of her wine down the sink that went unfinished
when I was drinking I never poured anything down the sink
When I finally copped to falling off the wagon, getting run over and dragged by it, I logged in. Shocking to see that almost 2 years have passed since my last log in. Two years. Two years of secrets, buzzes that didn't even please me in any regard any longer, justifying that two bottles of wine wasn't even that much in 4 hours. I kid you not, I really felt that. What scared me almost as much as the hangovers that would render me completely shot the day after drinking, was that after those two bottles of Chardonnay, I would go almost to a place of feeling sober. The first glass or two would buzz me, but as I continued to drink throughout the night, while there would be periods of blackout, I would smoke my last cigarette feelings sober. So downstairs I would head to take a couple of loonnnggggg pulls of the vodka just to be able to get myself to sleep. Pass out.
But then, about five hours later, all hell would break loose. But not just any hell. The seven levels of Hades would descend upon me in varying degrees starting at about 3:00 am.
Shocked and startled awake as I'm quite sure my CNS was borderline getting ready to shut down, I would receive a jolt of adrenaline so jarring I would literally feel like I had just been thrown in ice cold water. My heart would be pounding in my chest like it was begging for something to just settle it down. The thirst was inexplicable. The anxiety. The anxiety brought me to tears more than I care to remember. It's the anxiety that was the final tipping point back to sobriety. I simply could no longer live like that anymore.
As the day would rear its ugly face, I would assess if I was too hungover to go to work. Or if I could drag myself kicking and screaming to the shower which was an experience in and of itself. The panic in the shower would force me to leave the door open to get some air. The the toothbrush and I became fast enemies. Couldn't brush my teeth without gagging or the dry heaves. Sometimes I'd even throw up a little of my coffee. How lovely.
Having to give up driving as a result of hangovers I could not longer handle, I'd get in the car with my husband, put the air on cold, and try to breathe through what was surely my last day on earth. I would get to work and spend the next 7 hours trying really really hard not to pass out, fall over, have a heart attack, stroke, and die. I was always dying. Always. Every minute of every day was my last. And when It got so bad that I would actually start to pray for the end, I would take a Xanax. And after about an hour, my nerves would start to ease up on me.
Fast forward to getting home, no cooking for this momma. And god forbid, no going out to dinner. Those frazzled nerves couldn't bear the crowds, the chairs without arms that I couldn't balance myself in, the smells, the noise, the light. Upstairs I would drag myself, maybe another benzo so I could try to get some sleep and a vow that I would no longer drink. Then I would wake up with all intent to not drink that evening after work and then....well maybe just a glass of chard while I cook dinner. Bottle one done as I put the food on the table. Bottle two through dinner, clean up and relaxing. All the while as I'm drinking I'm thinking, I hate this. I haven't enjoyed a drink for at least a year. It no longer calms me, in fact it starts my heart pounding and my body flushes, and I would drink more and more trying to stop what I had started.
That was 14 days ago.
And grateful doesn't even cut it. On my knees in gratitude and grace and mercy.
Hi again.
But then, about five hours later, all hell would break loose. But not just any hell. The seven levels of Hades would descend upon me in varying degrees starting at about 3:00 am.
Shocked and startled awake as I'm quite sure my CNS was borderline getting ready to shut down, I would receive a jolt of adrenaline so jarring I would literally feel like I had just been thrown in ice cold water. My heart would be pounding in my chest like it was begging for something to just settle it down. The thirst was inexplicable. The anxiety. The anxiety brought me to tears more than I care to remember. It's the anxiety that was the final tipping point back to sobriety. I simply could no longer live like that anymore.
As the day would rear its ugly face, I would assess if I was too hungover to go to work. Or if I could drag myself kicking and screaming to the shower which was an experience in and of itself. The panic in the shower would force me to leave the door open to get some air. The the toothbrush and I became fast enemies. Couldn't brush my teeth without gagging or the dry heaves. Sometimes I'd even throw up a little of my coffee. How lovely.
Having to give up driving as a result of hangovers I could not longer handle, I'd get in the car with my husband, put the air on cold, and try to breathe through what was surely my last day on earth. I would get to work and spend the next 7 hours trying really really hard not to pass out, fall over, have a heart attack, stroke, and die. I was always dying. Always. Every minute of every day was my last. And when It got so bad that I would actually start to pray for the end, I would take a Xanax. And after about an hour, my nerves would start to ease up on me.
Fast forward to getting home, no cooking for this momma. And god forbid, no going out to dinner. Those frazzled nerves couldn't bear the crowds, the chairs without arms that I couldn't balance myself in, the smells, the noise, the light. Upstairs I would drag myself, maybe another benzo so I could try to get some sleep and a vow that I would no longer drink. Then I would wake up with all intent to not drink that evening after work and then....well maybe just a glass of chard while I cook dinner. Bottle one done as I put the food on the table. Bottle two through dinner, clean up and relaxing. All the while as I'm drinking I'm thinking, I hate this. I haven't enjoyed a drink for at least a year. It no longer calms me, in fact it starts my heart pounding and my body flushes, and I would drink more and more trying to stop what I had started.
That was 14 days ago.
And grateful doesn't even cut it. On my knees in gratitude and grace and mercy.
Hi again.
I loved reading this post!!! It really describes how awful it feels perfectly. I actually felt anxiety reading it, which means you are really quite amazing at writing and description. (ever considered being a writer?). The anxiety and hangovers were too much for me, which is what drove me to get sober. I couldnt have that level of anxiety and keep living everyday, it was too much. Now I dont have it anymore, and if I do feel anxious, its different and not as panicked and horrible. I too, am SOOOO thankful. Sometimes I could cry thinking about how bad I used to feel when hungover. Congrats on 14 days and Im thinking you are going to be quite the success in sobriety. Welcome.
Member
Join Date: Apr 2013
Location: Atlanta, Ga
Posts: 291
OMG - I have just met my identical twin (in most aspects) and sorry I can relate so well to you. Two bottles of Chardonnay and the just getting by with the daily rigors of life.
Please continue to post, you have a very important story that needs to be heard.
Please continue to post, you have a very important story that needs to be heard.
Guest
Join Date: Dec 2006
Location: Canada
Posts: 4,580
Fantastic post. While reading I was struck by the absolute fortitude drinkers possess as just brushing one's teeth requires a herculean effort. Really, really glad you're here as I'm sure your story resonates with many of us "wino women". Thank you.
Great post!!! Welcome back and congratulations on 2 weeks!!!
I hope you printed out that wonderfully written, very descriptive post and that you put it somewhere you can see in case the stupid AVs tell you that one glass of wine is not going to hurt you.
I hope you printed out that wonderfully written, very descriptive post and that you put it somewhere you can see in case the stupid AVs tell you that one glass of wine is not going to hurt you.
Thank you. I had the same pattern and I didn't write myself a reminder, so I'm bookmarking yours.
The feeling of desperation and self hatred that came along with puking silently in the sink while brushing my teeth is something I need to never, ever minimize in my memory. Thanks for the reminder. And congratulations on 14 days!
The feeling of desperation and self hatred that came along with puking silently in the sink while brushing my teeth is something I need to never, ever minimize in my memory. Thanks for the reminder. And congratulations on 14 days!
So happy to see you alphaomega. You must've needed to go through all that pain to get where you are - with the amazing attitude you now have! I had to spend some time in hell, too. We know there's nothing at the bottom of that bottle for us - never again.
I know your post will mean a lot to many here - especially the new people just signing on, in misery and desperation. There is life after alcohol - and we can do this!
I know your post will mean a lot to many here - especially the new people just signing on, in misery and desperation. There is life after alcohol - and we can do this!
Brilliant post.
Thank you for laying out the detail the way you did....over 2 years sober myself and you took me right back there. Oh, what pure hell it was.
Big congrats on the 2 weeks.
I see good things for you
Thank you for laying out the detail the way you did....over 2 years sober myself and you took me right back there. Oh, what pure hell it was.
Big congrats on the 2 weeks.
I see good things for you
Wow. Thank you so much for that post. As others have said, it was brilliantly written. I have sat here for most of the day feeling sorry for myself because I couldn't have "a glass" of wine.
Then I read your post and it is almost exactly how my life was four months ago. I NEVER had "a glass" of wine and most of my days and nights were very much like yours. Stopped my pity party right in its tracks. Thank you for that.
And congrats on two weeks. Please stick around, your words are much needed and appreciated. They helped me tonight, immensely.
Then I read your post and it is almost exactly how my life was four months ago. I NEVER had "a glass" of wine and most of my days and nights were very much like yours. Stopped my pity party right in its tracks. Thank you for that.
And congrats on two weeks. Please stick around, your words are much needed and appreciated. They helped me tonight, immensely.
New and learning
Join Date: Feb 2013
Location: Colorado
Posts: 85
You have such a gift in writing! Thanks from me too for your so accurately capturing and describing the cycle.
I too was down a little tonight, saying out loud I wish I could drink wine tonight. I'm 3.5 months sober! I couldn't believe myself. I told my AV to get lost and enjoyed the rest of the night.
Your post so accurately described my previous struggle. Thank you!
And.........welcome back! Join in. We are here for you and congrats!
I too was down a little tonight, saying out loud I wish I could drink wine tonight. I'm 3.5 months sober! I couldn't believe myself. I told my AV to get lost and enjoyed the rest of the night.
Your post so accurately described my previous struggle. Thank you!
And.........welcome back! Join in. We are here for you and congrats!
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