I’ve been trying to get the courage up to share this blog with the world again. In the meantime, I’ve been reading through some “drafts”, past articles/journal entries that were written but never published; likely out of the same fear I’m feeling today.

This one in particular resonated with me today. I’ve been thinking a lot about why “this time” feels so different…again. I’ve stopped and started so many times. And it’s clear by the title of this one that I thought “this time was different” too.

But the truth I see now is that I had always set a date, either to start or to finish, and still always had that niggling feeling I would somehow change my relationship with alcohol so that I could come back to it as a more mature, better version of myself.

The difference today is I’m able to say forever.

Soon, I will put it out to the world this way (by world, I mean my tiny Facebook circle); the people closest to me know, but I just haven’t needed the accountability like I have in the past.

My whole story is coming soon but for now, if you’re reading this, I am alcohol-free as of August 30th, 2021. I’ve drank pretty much concurrently, with the expception of pregnancies and the bouts of sobriety you’ll read on here, since I was 13. It was fun, then it was O.K. then it was just plain destructive. I had a physical health scare, on top of the decades of mental health scares, in late August and I decided enough was enough.

I’ve never felt better. Every day literally gets better than the last one. I’m still looking for some sober friends/connections but I’m leaving that, and whole lot of other things, up to the Universe.

I think you’ll find the following interesting…I sure did.

July 16, 2020

It’s hard to describe what a third (serious) attempt at quitting drinking actually feels like.

For so long, especially when I was still drinking, failure is the only thing I could use to define that feeling:

• Why can’t I stop when I know what it’s doing to me?

• I swear off alcohol every morning, then look, squirrel, 3:00pm hits; how, when and where I am going to get my first and last glass of wine? (It used to be 5:00pm, but as my habit worsened, it started getting earlier in the day)

• I’m such a loser.

• Why can’t I “moderate” like the rest of the free world?

• What did I say or do last night…let’s spend the next 3 hours piecing together the night, shall we?

And, unfortunately, because these feelings got to be so bad the next day, I started to alienate myself so I didn’t have to worry about my actions with/to others. It was so much easier to drink alone without the judgement, numb out completely and pour myself in to bed.

But, it was also so. fucking. exhausting.

• I’d wake up most everyday hungover, but determined to push through the day because I’m nothing if not dependable.

• I’d muscle through the first few hours of the morning doing the things expected of me, all while a big black cloud of shame hung overhead.

• By noon, I’d eat something horrible and then crawl in to bed for a mid-afternoon nap to sleep off the exhaustion only to wake up a couple hours later more sick and tired.

• Alas, all of this was nothing a glass or two of wine couldn’t handle and by early evening cycle from detox to retox would begin again.

As I type and re-read this, it’s painful to know that I allowed this kind of behavior to go on for YEARS. YEEEAAAARRS.

So I made a decision.

I sang my 90 day sobriety decision from the rooftops on January 1st, 2019 documenting all 90 days in an online journal. Six months later, after falling back in to some familiar habits and not liking the result, I committed to a whole year of sobriety on my 41st birthday (October), made it to the week before Thanksgiving and suffered through the next 8 months until I got to my very own Independence Day.

And here I am, 13 days in to what will likely be my last attempt at ditching the wine. I have a slough of reasons why, but for today I am just going to share with a few things that I’ve been able to accomplish over the past two weeks.

While they may seem trivial these are massive improvements:

• I’ve walked or ran every single day. This is huge. I would love to be the person that could get their ass out of bed the day after a bender and have the energy to even go for a walk…and I did when I was younger, all the time, but I just couldn’t anymore.
  Also here, on top of just merely doing it, yesterday I had been on my computer all day, my eyes were wonky and I had a little headache. There was a break in the rain and as I stood in my kitchen contemplating my next move, I found myself moving to the closet to get my running shoes, simply walked out the door and did my C25K workout. I’ll make this very simple:
  14 Days ago = Feeling Crappy at 4:30pm? = Big Glass of Wine
  Now = Feeling Crappy at 4:30pm on a rainy, drizzly day? = Go out and complete C25K workout.
  These things are so polar opposite in my life I can’t help but document it.

• The sleep is orgasmic. I say this a lot in my 90 Day posts, but it’s so, so true. No more getting up soaked in my own sweat at 3:00am. No cotton mouth. No chasing the squirrels around in my head. Just blissful, full, orgasmic sleep.
  Yes, it’s that good.

• The junkiest food I’ve eaten is Chipotle. Minus one bowl of ice cream. On a regular hangover-induced day, I would likely start my day with leftover pizza (because ya’ know, I just couldn’t cook anything the night before) out of the fridge, maybe some Ghetto Nachos for lunch, 4 string cheeses (I am from Wisconsin after all), gallons of coffee, a Coke and then top it off with a bottle of wine…all before dinner.
  These days it’s avocado and tomatoes with egg for breakfast, salad for lunch, one string cheese tucked in here or there and a Hello Fresh meal for dinner. Maybe a few handfuls of Pirate’s Booty…I am human after all.

• Cleaned out my seed starting space to make room for my yoga/meditation sanctuary. I’ve been staring at this disaster of a mess for months. Since my goal is to begin a daily yoga and meditation practice, there’s no reason I shouldn’t clean up this beautiful space. And I had the energy to actually do it…not just stare at it. A little lipstick on this baby and I’ll be golden.