139 Days Sober...
Member
Thread Starter
Join Date: Aug 2010
Location: Rooster Poot, Texas
Posts: 76
139 Days Sober...
But who's counting???
The answer would be: ME. Because I am proud of every single one of those days having never even tried before & having no concept it was even possible to live without drinking.
It's the typical story-- took my first drink to deliberately numb myself to pain (a friend's death) at age 7 because that was what I saw my dad do & the boy's dad for the same event... but there must have been something already laid out in my brain that had made alcohol attractive because what 7 yr old pours themself two shots of Crown? Didn't really start drinking-drinking until I was 13, but knew, always, the way I drank from the very first time was different than most of the kids my age. I had a natural tolerance for it which fascinated & amused me & everyone else; from the get-go I could put guys that outweighed me 100 lbs under the table-- then leave them there passed out.
And I actually thought this was a GOOD thing.
When people who knew my family (alcoholics/addicts on both sides) told me I was 'playing with fire' & setting myself up for major problems I laughed at them because who did they think they were talking to? I didn't have a problem. Whoever was getting the bar tab... THAT guy had a problem. All the right ingredients were there-- the family history, the violence at home, the secrecy, the 'don't tell', the narcissist mother, the father that died too young & left us in a house where HE had been the steady, gentle, reliable one even if he was the one that drank (died from cancer; not alcohol). I had no inkling about any of this, all I knew was there was never enough of ANYTHING to make me feel normal/okay in my own skin & that included whatever drugs were around & the little guy in my brain that should have been saying, "I don't know about cocaine... no, no maybe we shouldn't try heroin-- Needles? No, no, that's hard core, let's not dabble with needles--" that little guy was perpetually off duty. I did anything & everything & through all of it I had my best friend alcohol. When I quit everything else in the late 1980s because it had reached the point where it scared ME which is saying something... well, there was still Beer.
After a marriage to the boy I'd been in love with since I was five years old ended in divorce after only 6 months-- Well, that was it. I went to my apt, locked the door, pulled the blinds, yanked the phone cord out of the wall & started drinking. That was 1985. I added the drugs in there whenever possible, but there was always, always beer & Bacardi. I drank every day, every night, until I was unconscious until 1990 when I discovered myself pregnant & stopped on my own because my body rejected it... that was actually my first signal I was pregnant. Had a healthy, amazing child, a daughter, & started drinking again when she was around 2 months old, just a little at first, 1 or 2 beers a night, a binge every now & then if I got to go out & had a sitter for her... & the truth is I never thought about it, never worried about it, never tried to stop or slow down. Drank every day, every night. It never seemed to slow me down-- I raised her alone, I worked up to 3 jobs at times to make it, I kept a tidy house, did my own yard work-- I was like some kind of super woman & I always thought alcohol was my reward. I mean, I worked my butt off, my kid was in gifted & talented programs, I made all the school functions possible, I was a very active, hands-on, loving mother who gave up any notions of a social life or dating or relationships in order to raise my daughter & provide for her as if she had a two parent home... so I deserved that 12 pack every night.
And then it was an 18 pack every night, & then it was a case every day & I stopped pretending I gave a rip what time it was when I cracked the first one & it never occurred to me that I was in a relationship that did interfere with my parenting, not with a man... but with alcohol. And when she left for college... well, then there was only one other thing in my life I cared about & it was certainly not myself.
I didn't even know what was happening the first time I went into withdrawal. I wasn't trying to quit-- I'd run out & nothing was open for me to buy more so I figured I'd just sleep, right? No workie. When my nose started running & I got shaky & sweaty I figured I was coming down with something, the flu maybe. I'd never let being sick make me stop drinking so I went to the store & bought a case & miraculously (so I thought) after about 5 beers I felt better & decided I didn't need to call in sick after all.
Yeah.
I went to a dr for my annual female exam & she informed me that my liver enzymes were 'alarmingly' high & were those of a 75 yr old chronic alcoholic. I was 44 years old & had of course lied to her about my intake. I always lied. To everyone. Lied, hid it-- not because I thought I had a problem but because everyone else seemed to. The doc told me I needed to stop drinking even a miniscule amount of alcohol immediately & never take tylenol again & she told me if I didn't do that I could die, that I would die. She knew I was lying to her even tho I allowed her to take blood & run tests to check for Hep & liver disease...so what did I do? I asked her how long I had if nothing changed, she said a couple of years & I went home & doubled the amount I was drinking.
I know now I had come to a decision to kill myself-- I didn't really think about it then. I had a vague 'let's get this over with' feeling & was so depressed I could barely make myself get out of bed every day, would start crying when I woke up, disappointed I was still here. There was nothing to live for, nothing to be happy about, no point in anything, no reason to try-- I didn't know the majority of that was the alcohol & my liver malfunction talking. All I knew was I was dead-weary & I wanted to lay down & not get up. I was sick every day by then; had what I called Insta-Puke where I'd just vomit, like it was normal, wipe my mouth off, go on about my business. I couldn't go two hours without a drink without the nose running & the agitation so bad I wanted to claw my face off starting. And then the shaking & the teeth chattering & the uncontrollable digging at my face, then the puking. I missed a lot of work. I thought about eating my gun a lot. I wanted my daughter to get the insurance money though so I held off on the usual modes of suicide, praying my liver would just get it over with already-- but I hadn't counted on 2 things: 1) the body's amazing ability to keep going, keep going & 2) when God/Higher Power/the Universe-- whatever you want to call it-- isn't through with you yet there's no checking out early.
Eventually I decided to quit & tried it at home. Took a week off from work, thought, How bad can this be? I'm already dying here...
After six hours of Detoxing I came to on the floor in my own vomit. I don't know if I passed out or if I had a seizure, or both. I crawled crying to the fridge, spent a long time trying to stand up on legs that were shaking out from under me like a newborn foal's, hauling myself up using shelves in the cabinet, sobbing the whole time & just asking, over & over, 'Please,please please please please... oh God please help me...' until I finally managed to reach the Schnapp's on top of the fridge.
And that was it. I went to work & asked for help, told them I knew I was an alcoholic & I needed help. Their solution was 'stop drinking'. Ha! It's funny to me now but at the time I just put my head down & started crying, hopeless. I started trying to find a place to check into that I could afford, I made sure my insurance would cover part of it, I was so weak & bloated & broken I could barely walk, could barely even stand up once I sat down. And to my horror the alcohol wasn't working like it always had-- I guess my liver was shrieking in horror at me. All I knew was I never got 'okay' anymore. I just got Less Horrible for a little while. I walked around in constant mental, physical, emotional agony-- but not wanting to die anymore, wanting desperately to think maybe I could heal, get well, maybe things could be different, holding onto the words of a person I'd met by accident (a cab driver) who had been sober & clean for 11 years who kept telling me I could do it, & telling me to stop trying to orchestrate it, that God was handling it for me because I'd already done the 1st Step.
I ended up getting caught at work which was the best thing that ever happened to me. I had already found a bed in a Rehab, had already made plans to get there & go in the next Monday. I did not lose my job although there were of course repercussions & I am still dealing with those repercussions-- but that's part of it, isn't it? Accepting responsibility & accountability. I learned so much in Rehab-- about the disease, about myself & I am blessed now with an amazing therapist & a sponsor & although I am in a very rural area of Texas & meetings are sparse, I make as many as I can & I battle through the days when I feel whupped again-- because I know now it's a damn lie.
It's 139 days today; that's a little over 4 months. The rosacea that was so inflamed & red & hideous is basically all but gone. My hair has started growing again. I haven't been sick with a bug or a virus or a cold since I stopped drinking. I've dropped over 40 lbs & am back at my fighting weight-- able to hike & swim & play with my dogs & I wake up on my own & there isn't enough time to get all the stuff done & I am having FUN again, not just doing time til I die. I've discovered I can do anything I did before-- play piano & guitar, go see live music, dance, go fishing, tubing, BBQ, hang out with friends-- all the things I thought were literally IMPOSSIBLE minus alcohol because if there was no beer... what was the point?? I can do everything I did before & actually enjoy it MORE now.
I have bad days-- on one of them I found this place & am grateful for having done so. I am reminded every day that it IS a choice, that it IS a battle-- but I'm feeling too good to not fight for it. So that's my story, sorry it got so long but I thought parts of it might help someone out there reading it. If I can do it...you know the rest. ( ;
It'sa trip sometimes-- because I've never been a sober adult & that is kind of mind boggling & there are parts of me that I am having to grow up & raise because I got stuck back there as a 13 yr old in lots of ways. But this whole thing feels like a magic adventure to me, & I am so grateful I get the chance to live it.
The answer would be: ME. Because I am proud of every single one of those days having never even tried before & having no concept it was even possible to live without drinking.
It's the typical story-- took my first drink to deliberately numb myself to pain (a friend's death) at age 7 because that was what I saw my dad do & the boy's dad for the same event... but there must have been something already laid out in my brain that had made alcohol attractive because what 7 yr old pours themself two shots of Crown? Didn't really start drinking-drinking until I was 13, but knew, always, the way I drank from the very first time was different than most of the kids my age. I had a natural tolerance for it which fascinated & amused me & everyone else; from the get-go I could put guys that outweighed me 100 lbs under the table-- then leave them there passed out.
And I actually thought this was a GOOD thing.
When people who knew my family (alcoholics/addicts on both sides) told me I was 'playing with fire' & setting myself up for major problems I laughed at them because who did they think they were talking to? I didn't have a problem. Whoever was getting the bar tab... THAT guy had a problem. All the right ingredients were there-- the family history, the violence at home, the secrecy, the 'don't tell', the narcissist mother, the father that died too young & left us in a house where HE had been the steady, gentle, reliable one even if he was the one that drank (died from cancer; not alcohol). I had no inkling about any of this, all I knew was there was never enough of ANYTHING to make me feel normal/okay in my own skin & that included whatever drugs were around & the little guy in my brain that should have been saying, "I don't know about cocaine... no, no maybe we shouldn't try heroin-- Needles? No, no, that's hard core, let's not dabble with needles--" that little guy was perpetually off duty. I did anything & everything & through all of it I had my best friend alcohol. When I quit everything else in the late 1980s because it had reached the point where it scared ME which is saying something... well, there was still Beer.
After a marriage to the boy I'd been in love with since I was five years old ended in divorce after only 6 months-- Well, that was it. I went to my apt, locked the door, pulled the blinds, yanked the phone cord out of the wall & started drinking. That was 1985. I added the drugs in there whenever possible, but there was always, always beer & Bacardi. I drank every day, every night, until I was unconscious until 1990 when I discovered myself pregnant & stopped on my own because my body rejected it... that was actually my first signal I was pregnant. Had a healthy, amazing child, a daughter, & started drinking again when she was around 2 months old, just a little at first, 1 or 2 beers a night, a binge every now & then if I got to go out & had a sitter for her... & the truth is I never thought about it, never worried about it, never tried to stop or slow down. Drank every day, every night. It never seemed to slow me down-- I raised her alone, I worked up to 3 jobs at times to make it, I kept a tidy house, did my own yard work-- I was like some kind of super woman & I always thought alcohol was my reward. I mean, I worked my butt off, my kid was in gifted & talented programs, I made all the school functions possible, I was a very active, hands-on, loving mother who gave up any notions of a social life or dating or relationships in order to raise my daughter & provide for her as if she had a two parent home... so I deserved that 12 pack every night.
And then it was an 18 pack every night, & then it was a case every day & I stopped pretending I gave a rip what time it was when I cracked the first one & it never occurred to me that I was in a relationship that did interfere with my parenting, not with a man... but with alcohol. And when she left for college... well, then there was only one other thing in my life I cared about & it was certainly not myself.
I didn't even know what was happening the first time I went into withdrawal. I wasn't trying to quit-- I'd run out & nothing was open for me to buy more so I figured I'd just sleep, right? No workie. When my nose started running & I got shaky & sweaty I figured I was coming down with something, the flu maybe. I'd never let being sick make me stop drinking so I went to the store & bought a case & miraculously (so I thought) after about 5 beers I felt better & decided I didn't need to call in sick after all.
Yeah.
I went to a dr for my annual female exam & she informed me that my liver enzymes were 'alarmingly' high & were those of a 75 yr old chronic alcoholic. I was 44 years old & had of course lied to her about my intake. I always lied. To everyone. Lied, hid it-- not because I thought I had a problem but because everyone else seemed to. The doc told me I needed to stop drinking even a miniscule amount of alcohol immediately & never take tylenol again & she told me if I didn't do that I could die, that I would die. She knew I was lying to her even tho I allowed her to take blood & run tests to check for Hep & liver disease...so what did I do? I asked her how long I had if nothing changed, she said a couple of years & I went home & doubled the amount I was drinking.
I know now I had come to a decision to kill myself-- I didn't really think about it then. I had a vague 'let's get this over with' feeling & was so depressed I could barely make myself get out of bed every day, would start crying when I woke up, disappointed I was still here. There was nothing to live for, nothing to be happy about, no point in anything, no reason to try-- I didn't know the majority of that was the alcohol & my liver malfunction talking. All I knew was I was dead-weary & I wanted to lay down & not get up. I was sick every day by then; had what I called Insta-Puke where I'd just vomit, like it was normal, wipe my mouth off, go on about my business. I couldn't go two hours without a drink without the nose running & the agitation so bad I wanted to claw my face off starting. And then the shaking & the teeth chattering & the uncontrollable digging at my face, then the puking. I missed a lot of work. I thought about eating my gun a lot. I wanted my daughter to get the insurance money though so I held off on the usual modes of suicide, praying my liver would just get it over with already-- but I hadn't counted on 2 things: 1) the body's amazing ability to keep going, keep going & 2) when God/Higher Power/the Universe-- whatever you want to call it-- isn't through with you yet there's no checking out early.
Eventually I decided to quit & tried it at home. Took a week off from work, thought, How bad can this be? I'm already dying here...
After six hours of Detoxing I came to on the floor in my own vomit. I don't know if I passed out or if I had a seizure, or both. I crawled crying to the fridge, spent a long time trying to stand up on legs that were shaking out from under me like a newborn foal's, hauling myself up using shelves in the cabinet, sobbing the whole time & just asking, over & over, 'Please,please please please please... oh God please help me...' until I finally managed to reach the Schnapp's on top of the fridge.
And that was it. I went to work & asked for help, told them I knew I was an alcoholic & I needed help. Their solution was 'stop drinking'. Ha! It's funny to me now but at the time I just put my head down & started crying, hopeless. I started trying to find a place to check into that I could afford, I made sure my insurance would cover part of it, I was so weak & bloated & broken I could barely walk, could barely even stand up once I sat down. And to my horror the alcohol wasn't working like it always had-- I guess my liver was shrieking in horror at me. All I knew was I never got 'okay' anymore. I just got Less Horrible for a little while. I walked around in constant mental, physical, emotional agony-- but not wanting to die anymore, wanting desperately to think maybe I could heal, get well, maybe things could be different, holding onto the words of a person I'd met by accident (a cab driver) who had been sober & clean for 11 years who kept telling me I could do it, & telling me to stop trying to orchestrate it, that God was handling it for me because I'd already done the 1st Step.
I ended up getting caught at work which was the best thing that ever happened to me. I had already found a bed in a Rehab, had already made plans to get there & go in the next Monday. I did not lose my job although there were of course repercussions & I am still dealing with those repercussions-- but that's part of it, isn't it? Accepting responsibility & accountability. I learned so much in Rehab-- about the disease, about myself & I am blessed now with an amazing therapist & a sponsor & although I am in a very rural area of Texas & meetings are sparse, I make as many as I can & I battle through the days when I feel whupped again-- because I know now it's a damn lie.
It's 139 days today; that's a little over 4 months. The rosacea that was so inflamed & red & hideous is basically all but gone. My hair has started growing again. I haven't been sick with a bug or a virus or a cold since I stopped drinking. I've dropped over 40 lbs & am back at my fighting weight-- able to hike & swim & play with my dogs & I wake up on my own & there isn't enough time to get all the stuff done & I am having FUN again, not just doing time til I die. I've discovered I can do anything I did before-- play piano & guitar, go see live music, dance, go fishing, tubing, BBQ, hang out with friends-- all the things I thought were literally IMPOSSIBLE minus alcohol because if there was no beer... what was the point?? I can do everything I did before & actually enjoy it MORE now.
I have bad days-- on one of them I found this place & am grateful for having done so. I am reminded every day that it IS a choice, that it IS a battle-- but I'm feeling too good to not fight for it. So that's my story, sorry it got so long but I thought parts of it might help someone out there reading it. If I can do it...you know the rest. ( ;
It'sa trip sometimes-- because I've never been a sober adult & that is kind of mind boggling & there are parts of me that I am having to grow up & raise because I got stuck back there as a 13 yr old in lots of ways. But this whole thing feels like a magic adventure to me, & I am so grateful I get the chance to live it.
Member
Join Date: May 2010
Location: chico, ca
Posts: 321
I agree with Ghost. Thanks for letting us know who you are and what you went thru, although my male ego will tell you I got dust in my eyes which caused them to tear up. It's good to hear the whole enchilada so we can get to know you. Keep coming back and congratulations on the 4 months. God Bless
Member
Thread Starter
Join Date: Aug 2010
Location: Rooster Poot, Texas
Posts: 76
Shygirl... I am so glad that it brought you hope & please PM or however it works here, I will be happy to do anything I can to help you, will just listen if that's what you need.
I came very close a couple of weeks ago. Someone disappointed me in a major way & I was in a city where I could have drank & no one known & the motel was 20 feet from a little store which sold beer. I allowed myself to get dangerously close to it. As in rocking myself on the bed, nails chewed to the quick, shaking bad. I had someone tell me that however bad it was right then, however sad & lonely & disappointed in life I was, THAT was nothing compared to what I'd go through if I drank that night... because I'd have to look in the mirror the next morning, I'd have to wake up with what I'd done. My heart goes out to you, starting over again because I can easily imagine what that is like; I am not kidding that it is still, on some days, for an hour or two or three or four... still a massive internal struggle. I am so sorry you've had to go through that experience.
I came very close a couple of weeks ago. Someone disappointed me in a major way & I was in a city where I could have drank & no one known & the motel was 20 feet from a little store which sold beer. I allowed myself to get dangerously close to it. As in rocking myself on the bed, nails chewed to the quick, shaking bad. I had someone tell me that however bad it was right then, however sad & lonely & disappointed in life I was, THAT was nothing compared to what I'd go through if I drank that night... because I'd have to look in the mirror the next morning, I'd have to wake up with what I'd done. My heart goes out to you, starting over again because I can easily imagine what that is like; I am not kidding that it is still, on some days, for an hour or two or three or four... still a massive internal struggle. I am so sorry you've had to go through that experience.
Proud Neonephalist
Join Date: Jul 2010
Location: North Coast BC Canada
Posts: 1,141
Thank you 10-90-6 for sharing your story. The human body has so much capacity to heal, if just given a chance. It's stories like yours, and others not so extreme here on SR that help me every day in my quest to remain sober for the rest of my life.
One day, maybe far into the future, I'll need to draw on what you've shared here today and it just might save my life, save my relationship with my wife, and ensure our daughter grows up without a sloppy drunk for a dad.
Again, thank you!
Murray
One day, maybe far into the future, I'll need to draw on what you've shared here today and it just might save my life, save my relationship with my wife, and ensure our daughter grows up without a sloppy drunk for a dad.
Again, thank you!
Murray
SR Fan
Join Date: Apr 2010
Location: Mississippi
Posts: 7,910
thanks for the post! I've had a rocky day today, and reading your story reminds me of where I've been (and where I might be headed if I pick up a drink again). The struggle is tiring sometimes, but it always passes. I usually get the urge when I'm overwhelmed, which is happening a lot these days. I have to remind myself to look at the big picture and realize that most of my sobriety has been great and I have so much to be grateful for.
I'm glad you didn't destroy yourself with drinking and it's great to have you here. Congratulations on your sober time!! (I'm a couple weeks behind you).
I'm glad you didn't destroy yourself with drinking and it's great to have you here. Congratulations on your sober time!! (I'm a couple weeks behind you).
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