It was a year earlier this week (some reflections)
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Join Date: Nov 2014
Posts: 403
It was a year earlier this week (some reflections)
I'm not sure which day marked a year because even though I have an infallible memory, the days leading up to hospitalization were one long series of blackouts. I'm only just realizing this. We are visiting my husband's relatives which we did about a month before last year's hospitalization and I'm realizing I don't remember much about that trip, at all. When the already-critical husband mentions things we went to (assuming I'll also remember), I just nod, since he's been a jerk about the whole thing.
Anyway, I think June 11th was the date, but I remember it being a Monday morning. I guess it doesn't matter.
I've written my story out here a number of times: I was on the verge of death, though, I'm relatively young and had only been drinking, at all, for under 8 years, and heavily, for only about 3, and seriously heavy, for 1. It can happen very fast; up until that time, I was a teetotaler. I couldn't breathe all Sunday night into Monday morning. I kept drinking, trying to stave off the withdrawals. My breathing would not slow down and it was so uncomfortable that my husband forced me to go. He was an a$$ throughout the whole process, so much so, that I asked him to go away while they did triage, but he nosily returned. Ah, well, I guess it was for the best, because he had to give consent to all the big procedures when I was in an induced coma.
So, I almost died--I had many comorbidites (sp), dialysis twice, was 118 lbs, had spots on the liver, etc. etc. To tell you the truth, the hospital stay (after being in an induced coma for three days) is mostly a blur and husband visited only once. Oh, well. I wasn't keen on seeing him, either.
I also have/had no support and have elected to get none (AA and therapy don't help. I've tried it all, and I do best just with my willpower). Husband is arrogant and had often reminded me that this was a moral failing on my part. Kids imbibed that attitude and feel that way, too (though, some are better than the others).
Anyway, glad I didn't die from that since, at times, they were unsure.
For those just reading my story, I'm lucky that for whatever reason, I was high functioning, despite drinking a lot. As an aside and to illustrate, my husband and I just had a big fight because, last week, I left him in charge of all of son's activities for a week while I went out to make some extra money on a 9-5, after my regular job ended.
He is basically a one-beer-every two nights guy. He managed to allow us to miss my academically talented son's awards ceremony because he wasn't checking the nightly folder. I'm sick of hearing how pathetic I was, etc. Yes, I was, but, I never missed a beat with work and the kids. I told him, "funny how I kept it all together as a drunk for everything (I do 100% of household management) and you can't even handle it 7 days sober."
That's an aside, just meant to illustrate that, sometimes, you have to be your own advocate and depend on no one.
Anyway, that was my second hospital stay. It was very serious, though, and a year later, having taken no drinks, I think it "clicked."
The thing that helps me the most when I wanted a drink on all of those "firsts" was the advice I've received here, and that it, play the tape to the end. It's like a dog chasing his tail, or the Buddha saying that we love when the waves roll in, but we don't want them to recede. So, even though I've never stopped recognizing that alcohol can be great as a social lubricator, a one-night treat, etc., I know I'm the one who wants the constant envelopment of the crashing waves and I want to keep them forever. Chemically, my brain is wired to always want to be numbed, and once I get a tease, I won't stop. So, no more alcohol for me because the end will be the same.
So, much of this difficult year has been filled with the aftermath (which could have been worse); it has included: trying to recover my personal life and face down financial messes (nothing too severe, just late payments because I was drunk and didn't care, never paying copays and letting them go to collections, etc. etc.), and just coping with not being able to run to SKOL when the going get tough or I have fights with people.
I posted here in early May, saying "Sober, fat, and unorganized." That still stands. Unlike most people here, sobriety did not mean a better physical appearance, and, as vain as it sounds, it bothers me. It's meant that I've gained 30 lbs (because I was on the verge of starvation and at my HS weight). I am overweight by all accounts, it's not merely vanity. And, it's not my normal weight which is in the 130s. For the first time in my life, I have to shop the 10/12 section. I shot my metabolism and I'm just now trying to work on this aspect of it. I also mentioned that during my drunkenness, my work performance soared (empirical evaluations). Thankfully, I received my evaluations, again, after that post, and they are just as high/higher, so I'm ok there. I still feel all the same shortcomings: unorganized, waste time on the internet, bad temper, etc. Sometimes, for a second, AV says, "well, what the heck, nothing has improved anyway." To be clear: I'm not depressed or sad.
Being sober hasn't been quite the panacea for me. I'm not going to lie to myself and pretend everything is better. I don't know--I have more energy, get more busy work done, etc. But, my relations are not wonderful and soaring now, etc. It's just all kind of "meh."
I hope I'm not discouraging anyone. In fact, I have to encourage everyone to quit now. I had an epiphany of sorts when I was at a former drinking buddy's house. That was pretty much me at one point. Her husband kept throwing in little barbs that sounded familiar--she signs her kids up for activities and never goes (that was me with swimming lessons because I didn't want to drive and other things; I just didn't look into things), doesn't feed the kids (I would just put anything on the table when desperate, from a can, etc.), house is always a mess (I lived in one apartment for a year and never really unpacked). I do blame my husband for much of this. Although we live apart for our jobs, he could have stepped up and pulled more than his part during these times (I hid most of it, but still).
Anyway, so there's that. A year in the books, and I'm really happy I've been able to make it this long. While it hasn't been puppies and unicorns, I realize that the converse would be absolutely horrible. I look back to those days and realize that life like that (even if there was no hospitalization) was really at a dead end. Even if physically, my body wasn't about to give in, mentally, it was just getting worse and worse. There was no point to it.
Anyway, I think June 11th was the date, but I remember it being a Monday morning. I guess it doesn't matter.
I've written my story out here a number of times: I was on the verge of death, though, I'm relatively young and had only been drinking, at all, for under 8 years, and heavily, for only about 3, and seriously heavy, for 1. It can happen very fast; up until that time, I was a teetotaler. I couldn't breathe all Sunday night into Monday morning. I kept drinking, trying to stave off the withdrawals. My breathing would not slow down and it was so uncomfortable that my husband forced me to go. He was an a$$ throughout the whole process, so much so, that I asked him to go away while they did triage, but he nosily returned. Ah, well, I guess it was for the best, because he had to give consent to all the big procedures when I was in an induced coma.
So, I almost died--I had many comorbidites (sp), dialysis twice, was 118 lbs, had spots on the liver, etc. etc. To tell you the truth, the hospital stay (after being in an induced coma for three days) is mostly a blur and husband visited only once. Oh, well. I wasn't keen on seeing him, either.
I also have/had no support and have elected to get none (AA and therapy don't help. I've tried it all, and I do best just with my willpower). Husband is arrogant and had often reminded me that this was a moral failing on my part. Kids imbibed that attitude and feel that way, too (though, some are better than the others).
Anyway, glad I didn't die from that since, at times, they were unsure.
For those just reading my story, I'm lucky that for whatever reason, I was high functioning, despite drinking a lot. As an aside and to illustrate, my husband and I just had a big fight because, last week, I left him in charge of all of son's activities for a week while I went out to make some extra money on a 9-5, after my regular job ended.
He is basically a one-beer-every two nights guy. He managed to allow us to miss my academically talented son's awards ceremony because he wasn't checking the nightly folder. I'm sick of hearing how pathetic I was, etc. Yes, I was, but, I never missed a beat with work and the kids. I told him, "funny how I kept it all together as a drunk for everything (I do 100% of household management) and you can't even handle it 7 days sober."
That's an aside, just meant to illustrate that, sometimes, you have to be your own advocate and depend on no one.
Anyway, that was my second hospital stay. It was very serious, though, and a year later, having taken no drinks, I think it "clicked."
The thing that helps me the most when I wanted a drink on all of those "firsts" was the advice I've received here, and that it, play the tape to the end. It's like a dog chasing his tail, or the Buddha saying that we love when the waves roll in, but we don't want them to recede. So, even though I've never stopped recognizing that alcohol can be great as a social lubricator, a one-night treat, etc., I know I'm the one who wants the constant envelopment of the crashing waves and I want to keep them forever. Chemically, my brain is wired to always want to be numbed, and once I get a tease, I won't stop. So, no more alcohol for me because the end will be the same.
So, much of this difficult year has been filled with the aftermath (which could have been worse); it has included: trying to recover my personal life and face down financial messes (nothing too severe, just late payments because I was drunk and didn't care, never paying copays and letting them go to collections, etc. etc.), and just coping with not being able to run to SKOL when the going get tough or I have fights with people.
I posted here in early May, saying "Sober, fat, and unorganized." That still stands. Unlike most people here, sobriety did not mean a better physical appearance, and, as vain as it sounds, it bothers me. It's meant that I've gained 30 lbs (because I was on the verge of starvation and at my HS weight). I am overweight by all accounts, it's not merely vanity. And, it's not my normal weight which is in the 130s. For the first time in my life, I have to shop the 10/12 section. I shot my metabolism and I'm just now trying to work on this aspect of it. I also mentioned that during my drunkenness, my work performance soared (empirical evaluations). Thankfully, I received my evaluations, again, after that post, and they are just as high/higher, so I'm ok there. I still feel all the same shortcomings: unorganized, waste time on the internet, bad temper, etc. Sometimes, for a second, AV says, "well, what the heck, nothing has improved anyway." To be clear: I'm not depressed or sad.
Being sober hasn't been quite the panacea for me. I'm not going to lie to myself and pretend everything is better. I don't know--I have more energy, get more busy work done, etc. But, my relations are not wonderful and soaring now, etc. It's just all kind of "meh."
I hope I'm not discouraging anyone. In fact, I have to encourage everyone to quit now. I had an epiphany of sorts when I was at a former drinking buddy's house. That was pretty much me at one point. Her husband kept throwing in little barbs that sounded familiar--she signs her kids up for activities and never goes (that was me with swimming lessons because I didn't want to drive and other things; I just didn't look into things), doesn't feed the kids (I would just put anything on the table when desperate, from a can, etc.), house is always a mess (I lived in one apartment for a year and never really unpacked). I do blame my husband for much of this. Although we live apart for our jobs, he could have stepped up and pulled more than his part during these times (I hid most of it, but still).
Anyway, so there's that. A year in the books, and I'm really happy I've been able to make it this long. While it hasn't been puppies and unicorns, I realize that the converse would be absolutely horrible. I look back to those days and realize that life like that (even if there was no hospitalization) was really at a dead end. Even if physically, my body wasn't about to give in, mentally, it was just getting worse and worse. There was no point to it.
Forum Leader
Join Date: May 2012
Location: Wisconsin, USA
Posts: 16,945
Congrats on one year Notgonnastop, that's quite an accomplishment. It took me well over a year to really start getting my life back on track so I hope that year 2 is a much better one for you. And as you mention, the alternative is far worse. Keep up the good work!
Member
Join Date: Feb 2015
Location: MN
Posts: 8,704
Your story is an amazing one and I never get tired reading it. You went through a pretty scary time. I find it interesting that while drinking you kept everything together and performed well at work. I think some of that has to do with that "reward" at the end of the day or throughout the day. My father drinks every single night and I know he feels like crap most of the day, but he'll keep himself busy doing nothing until the happy hour bell goes off in his head. And he does this day after day after day.
So glad you are well now.
So glad you are well now.
Member
Join Date: Jan 2016
Location: London
Posts: 2,040
Congratulations notgonnastoptry on 1 year 🎉🎉🎉
Thank you for your very real and 'no thrills' post about your recovery journey. Considering you were in a coma just a year ago I'd say things are drastically improved. If someone had offered you what you have now a year ago when you were in the hospital I suspect you'd have bitten their arm off for it? Wishing you well for year 2 of your recovery journey x
Thank you for your very real and 'no thrills' post about your recovery journey. Considering you were in a coma just a year ago I'd say things are drastically improved. If someone had offered you what you have now a year ago when you were in the hospital I suspect you'd have bitten their arm off for it? Wishing you well for year 2 of your recovery journey x
under new management
Join Date: Jun 2015
Location: Calgary, Alberta
Posts: 2,339
Congratulations on 1 year, notgonnastoptry 
That is a huge accomplishment!
My first year was pretty rough. I spent most of the year going back and forth to the doctor with a long list of "symptoms". I insisted on test after test, I was obsessed with researching my self-diagnoses on line for hours everyday. I couldn't remember anything, I couldn't read a book. I felt like crap most days. And I was depressed. The first year was not pretty and I am so grateful to never have to do it again.
I hope that with the booze out of the way, you can start to find out what would bring you joy.
That is a huge accomplishment!
My first year was pretty rough. I spent most of the year going back and forth to the doctor with a long list of "symptoms". I insisted on test after test, I was obsessed with researching my self-diagnoses on line for hours everyday. I couldn't remember anything, I couldn't read a book. I felt like crap most days. And I was depressed. The first year was not pretty and I am so grateful to never have to do it again.
I hope that with the booze out of the way, you can start to find out what would bring you joy.
Member
Thread Starter
Join Date: Nov 2014
Posts: 403
Thank you, all.
It's very kind for you to say that my story is interesting and/or moving (I don't want to impute too much to it!). I was raised in a family that emphasize work and its ideal, so even through all of this, I knew that I had to be responsible at work and with my children, but it ended there. So, I did go through those motions, but the older ones realized what a train wreck I was. I'd avoid driving them places because I wanted to drink, and they eventually caught on. It was a weird kind of being responsible, e.g., "Let me pay for swimming lessons because that's what a good mother does. But, let me also flush that money down the toilet because good parents don't drive drunk, so we will go once, when I can hold off, but all the other weeks, I just can't abstain." I also didn't look into any extra curricular activities like Cub Scouts, etc. (he's in that now). But, even while drinking all of the time, I managed to set up a summer of activities and the day after being released from the hospital, I maintained my commitment to being a volunteer at VBS. I realize I'm really neurotic in some things, but, I did have the classical drunk drops of life.
The proof is my older children still resent me; I may have completely lost my oldest teen, etc. Husband and me are still on the rocks, a year later. Whatever--half the reason I drank was because of him and not being able to cope. He's had no sympathy, but, I'm accustomed to that.
My job is isolating. It's hard to explain without giving away more of my identity than I'd like, but it involves performance of sorts in pretty short bursts and I don't work around a set of people all day or at a station/office. That's how I could manage that and I'm guessing the alcohol made me more charismatic, etc. If I had a 9-5, I probably would have failed at it. Also, it's no coincidence that when the job ended in early May, I really upped the drinking, landing myself in the hospital by early/mid summer, two summers in a row. While I was working, I kept it "in check" (not really, but relatively speaking).
There's also the fact that I no longer had hangovers (and we know this is a bad sign). Instead, after 2 to 3 shots in the morning, I would feel "fine" enough to go in.
And, professionally, while I kept it together and checked off most of the "good mom" boxes (on paper), my family life and personal friendships suffered. In an extreme blackout, I told some excellent friends what my husband really thought of them. Husband is actually a very ethical man and loves these people, as they are solid and his old friends, but he'd said some snide and crass remarks about silly aspects of their personalities and their looks to me--just about aging (I know, we suck). I will never forget in the fog of May, one morning, when I woke up probably drunk (honestly, I never even knew if I was drunk or sober at the end, it was all the same) that I'd read the text message I sent to both of them (and I wasn't even in contact with the husband).
It was mortifying--the stuff I revealed. This came after the wife of the couple served as my sounding board for months. I also had some pretty violent fights (that I instigated) in front of all the children (with my husband). Thinking back is allowing me more and more to appreciate my sobriety, actually. This is good thing, because sometimes I think, "why am I bothering; I'm more or less the same."
Some of the things that stick out:
I'm glad not to be the dog chasing his tail and looking into the endless abyss for satisfaction/numbness/blackness.
I'm happy that my night doesn't consist of solely facebook and posting condescending posts, mixed with bragging and self-pity, blackouts, etc.
I'm happy that I don't get up, do three shots, cat nap, rinse and repeat
I'm happy my body isn't bruised from top to bottom and that when I feel my teeth with my tongue I don't feel enamel wearing off.
I'm happy the tingles in my hands and feet are gone.
No more shaking all of the time but being able to hide it just enough so people don't notice.
I'm so relieved I don't have to take 3 steps back when someone speaks with me.
I'm glad that there are vitamins in my body (I was on so many bags of vitamins in the hospital)
I'm happy that I don't have to listen to tachycardia here and there and take a shot of vodka to stop it. Or, worse, wondering if it will progress or turn into a heart attack.
I'm glad I'm not haunted by the fear that I will be checking out early and will have permanently numbed myself. My children may not adore me, but at least my legacy is not the dead mom who drank herself to death, greedily.
I'm happy I'm not a zombie, with no motivation. As I mentioned, I never really unpacked one of our apartments (and my husband just didn't bother). All of my places are absolutely spotless right now--but I do 100% of the work for those.
I'm glad I don't have right-side pain, and that my hair has grown back. Even though I was skinny, I did not look healthy because my hair was awfully thin and just strands and wispy.
Most of all, I am happy to participate in life as a normal person. Not as an excessively happy, "I ENJOY LIFE MUCH MORE AS SOBER." I definitely don't "enjoy" it more as a perpetual drunk, but, as I said, I can't pretend it's so much better without a drink.
I think, between two residences, I found the LAST bottle in December when I was selling furniture. For a millisecond, I thought to myself, "hey, I had half a bottle there" (I used to anxiously keep track of every drop to avoid buying more, drinking more, and thinking I was drinking more).
But, most importantly, as many on here have said, my life wouldn't be what I want with the occasional two drinks at a wedding or a BBQ. I want way more than that, and two is just not enough. So, that's why I can't have any, because I'm not, never way, and never will be a social drinker. When people like us say they want to drink again, most of the time, they don't mean they want to be able to enjoy calories (er, I mean beer), then stop for the evening. To me, social drinking is just consumption of calories. I drink for a specific reason, and those reasons can't be part of my life because they spell death of my body for me. Because of that, I have to stay quit.
It's very kind for you to say that my story is interesting and/or moving (I don't want to impute too much to it!). I was raised in a family that emphasize work and its ideal, so even through all of this, I knew that I had to be responsible at work and with my children, but it ended there. So, I did go through those motions, but the older ones realized what a train wreck I was. I'd avoid driving them places because I wanted to drink, and they eventually caught on. It was a weird kind of being responsible, e.g., "Let me pay for swimming lessons because that's what a good mother does. But, let me also flush that money down the toilet because good parents don't drive drunk, so we will go once, when I can hold off, but all the other weeks, I just can't abstain." I also didn't look into any extra curricular activities like Cub Scouts, etc. (he's in that now). But, even while drinking all of the time, I managed to set up a summer of activities and the day after being released from the hospital, I maintained my commitment to being a volunteer at VBS. I realize I'm really neurotic in some things, but, I did have the classical drunk drops of life.
The proof is my older children still resent me; I may have completely lost my oldest teen, etc. Husband and me are still on the rocks, a year later. Whatever--half the reason I drank was because of him and not being able to cope. He's had no sympathy, but, I'm accustomed to that.
My job is isolating. It's hard to explain without giving away more of my identity than I'd like, but it involves performance of sorts in pretty short bursts and I don't work around a set of people all day or at a station/office. That's how I could manage that and I'm guessing the alcohol made me more charismatic, etc. If I had a 9-5, I probably would have failed at it. Also, it's no coincidence that when the job ended in early May, I really upped the drinking, landing myself in the hospital by early/mid summer, two summers in a row. While I was working, I kept it "in check" (not really, but relatively speaking).
There's also the fact that I no longer had hangovers (and we know this is a bad sign). Instead, after 2 to 3 shots in the morning, I would feel "fine" enough to go in.
And, professionally, while I kept it together and checked off most of the "good mom" boxes (on paper), my family life and personal friendships suffered. In an extreme blackout, I told some excellent friends what my husband really thought of them. Husband is actually a very ethical man and loves these people, as they are solid and his old friends, but he'd said some snide and crass remarks about silly aspects of their personalities and their looks to me--just about aging (I know, we suck). I will never forget in the fog of May, one morning, when I woke up probably drunk (honestly, I never even knew if I was drunk or sober at the end, it was all the same) that I'd read the text message I sent to both of them (and I wasn't even in contact with the husband).
It was mortifying--the stuff I revealed. This came after the wife of the couple served as my sounding board for months. I also had some pretty violent fights (that I instigated) in front of all the children (with my husband). Thinking back is allowing me more and more to appreciate my sobriety, actually. This is good thing, because sometimes I think, "why am I bothering; I'm more or less the same."
Some of the things that stick out:
I'm glad not to be the dog chasing his tail and looking into the endless abyss for satisfaction/numbness/blackness.
I'm happy that my night doesn't consist of solely facebook and posting condescending posts, mixed with bragging and self-pity, blackouts, etc.
I'm happy that I don't get up, do three shots, cat nap, rinse and repeat
I'm happy my body isn't bruised from top to bottom and that when I feel my teeth with my tongue I don't feel enamel wearing off.
I'm happy the tingles in my hands and feet are gone.
No more shaking all of the time but being able to hide it just enough so people don't notice.
I'm so relieved I don't have to take 3 steps back when someone speaks with me.
I'm glad that there are vitamins in my body (I was on so many bags of vitamins in the hospital)
I'm happy that I don't have to listen to tachycardia here and there and take a shot of vodka to stop it. Or, worse, wondering if it will progress or turn into a heart attack.
I'm glad I'm not haunted by the fear that I will be checking out early and will have permanently numbed myself. My children may not adore me, but at least my legacy is not the dead mom who drank herself to death, greedily.
I'm happy I'm not a zombie, with no motivation. As I mentioned, I never really unpacked one of our apartments (and my husband just didn't bother). All of my places are absolutely spotless right now--but I do 100% of the work for those.
I'm glad I don't have right-side pain, and that my hair has grown back. Even though I was skinny, I did not look healthy because my hair was awfully thin and just strands and wispy.
Most of all, I am happy to participate in life as a normal person. Not as an excessively happy, "I ENJOY LIFE MUCH MORE AS SOBER." I definitely don't "enjoy" it more as a perpetual drunk, but, as I said, I can't pretend it's so much better without a drink.
I think, between two residences, I found the LAST bottle in December when I was selling furniture. For a millisecond, I thought to myself, "hey, I had half a bottle there" (I used to anxiously keep track of every drop to avoid buying more, drinking more, and thinking I was drinking more).
But, most importantly, as many on here have said, my life wouldn't be what I want with the occasional two drinks at a wedding or a BBQ. I want way more than that, and two is just not enough. So, that's why I can't have any, because I'm not, never way, and never will be a social drinker. When people like us say they want to drink again, most of the time, they don't mean they want to be able to enjoy calories (er, I mean beer), then stop for the evening. To me, social drinking is just consumption of calories. I drink for a specific reason, and those reasons can't be part of my life because they spell death of my body for me. Because of that, I have to stay quit.
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