And counting

I've thought of drinking this past week, but mostly in the sense of so I don't need to keep that up anymore? Nope. You sure don't.

It's been harder to fall asleep, but that should pass soon. When I do get to sleep, it feels more restful than before (and it is, it seems) and I'm less tired during the day, so it all evens out and it gets a little easier each night.

I felt a nudge last night driving home from my friend's house, but I thought it through and kept driving. The thoughts lasted all of a block and a half. That's been the worst of it, and that I can deal with. Think. Keep driving. Revisit it later if need be, but for right now? I don't want it.

Overall, I'm (very happily) surprised at how slight a pull alcohol has exerted this past week. It's been on the table at bowling, next to the orange juice at the grocery store, lined up behind the pharmacist's counter, and yet there hasn't been any desire to pick it up. It feels separate-from and for-others, and I like that.

It may be harder next month or in the next five minutes, but for right now, this moment, I'm equal to it.

Two days

And looking forward to day three.

From someone who knew me of old

You can revert back to a non-drinker, you know, the place we all start at. People don't change, and I remember you for the most part as not much of a drinker. You were more into reading a book and nibbling at a few Doritos and drinking a Coke ... that's the real you.

I liked that girl, and she's just under the surface.

Thanks for reminding me.

What it comes down to

This morning I felt unsettled, uneasy, jumpy, awkward. I twice flipped my pen almost into the hall just shifting my grip. I came this close to missing my chair when I sat. Everything felt a few degrees from normal.

What the hell is this? Work isn't the best place to soul-search, but I wanted to nail it down before I tripped down the stairs or fell into a recycling bin.

I took some time at lunch to purposefully relax and a few thoughts kept surfacing: What if I can't? And if I can, does that mean I have to haul this shit around for the rest of my life? Will I ever become a thoughtless non-drinker?

I admonished myself for putting the cart before the horse, but part of me said LISTEN, dammit and so I did. Valid questions. Unanswerable at this point, but valid nonetheless, and that's when I recognized what the nerves and the flinging pens and all meant.

Fear. Simple as that.

Fear that I can't, fear that I won't, fear that I will but my relationships will change. Fear that I put it out there. Fear that I won't follow through, fear that it will get worse if I don't. Fear that I'll feel that raw needy off-footedness I felt when I stopped drinking last time.

And then I breathed. In through the nose, out through the mouth.

That off-footedness isn't going to kill me. I have friends and family who are aware and would completely understand if I pulled myself out of rotation for a few weeks. It's that simple. If I need to I can say, "Hey. I need two weeks to burrow into the bedsheets. I love you but I am one raw nerve and don't want to talk, don't want to email, can't deal with interaction."

Quite likely I won't need that, but lately I've been feeling the need to shrink, to focus, to not spread out all over the place. I've wanted to check out, but it doesn't feel like withdrawal, it feels like instinct. Like I need to curl into a corner and lick some self-inflicted wounds clean.

The post stays, Melissa

It's very hard leaving the most recent post up, but a perfect example of why I lie to myself and keep it from others. Because the reality is embarrassing. And that's exactly why I wrote it - to put some heat on my cheeks. If I don't like it, I know what to do. Change that reality.

Accurate data

So, we're starting an experiment today. I will be accountable here for every single drink.

Words from the very first post to this blog. I haven't always been honest in the past, but here I go. I'll account for every single drink today. In chronological order:

24 oz. can of beer
2 rum and cokes
1 bottle of beer
4 bottles of beer
3 rum and cokes

By my reckoning, that's 12 drinks. And the rum and cokes are probably one-and-a-half drinks, so that's 14+ drinks.

Inexcusable.

I need to be honest. I can't pretty it up for me or anyone else. As I calculated the list above, I could hear Self Indulgence weigh in with But it's Sunday! You're talking ALL day! You spread it out over 12 hours and you're only now feeling a little buzzed and you're heading to bed! That's responsible! Just look at the numbers, though. That isn't normal by any stretch of the imagination. And please stop with all the exclamation points, would you? Your rush to reassure just hurts my head.

I used to think - well, I used to think a whole bunch of things. I keep typing and erasing all the things I've thought: I can control my drinking, AA seems helpful but to be fully engaged I'll have to stop drinking and I'm not quite ready for that, CAN I control this, is this habit, what is my liver doing, does anyone smell it at work, dammit my words slurred again. Who needs this shit?

Seriously. Who needs those thoughts? When there's help there for the taking. When there's support on all sides. When I want different. What is it that makes me think Tomorrow?