Working Step One

Five weeks and one day without alcohol. Seems much longer.

I have my "big blue book" as they call it. The AA bible, basically. And I have the book on the 12 Steps , too.

I'm still on Step One. Admitting that I am powerless over alcohol.

The last two weeks have been difficult. I am working at coming to grips with the understanding that I cannot drink alcohol.

And it's hard because I still want to. I find myself at times thinking about having a glass or two of wine. I'm still mourning the loss of fun times such as going wine tasting on the wine trail near my home.

All the guys at AA tell me that it's every alcoholics dream to find a way to control their drinking.

But we can't. And that's why we can't drink. It's black and white - no gray area at all. And that's what I find so hard. It's all or nothing.

It's only been five weeks. I hope that in a year I will feel different. The truth in that old AA proverb is my lifeline: One day at a time. That's what is getting me through.

I'm taking one day at a time.

My First AA Meeting

I haven't had a drink since August 14th. Next Monday I will get my one month chip at AA.

I went to my first AA meeting on Monday, August 15. I wrote about the two days that preceded this in my last post.

I almost didn't go in to the meeting. I went alone, and sat in my car for a while. The only people who went in looked like Skid Row derelicts and motorcycle gang members.

If it was going to be all old men and skid row people then I wasn't going to go in. Except I knew I had to.

I waited until I saw a woman go in. Then I dragged myself out of the car and approached the door. The meeting was in an old hole-in-the-wall type building, in a small room with old chairs placed around its perimeter.

There were a lot of people in the room. Apparently I had chosen to go on the night one of the regulars was going to tell his story of being sober for 4 years I didn't know anyone and no one knew me. They welcomed me. A few spoke to me.

But my heart was pounding so hard I could barely speak. The meeting lasted an hour and when that hour was over, I really could have used a drink.

But I didn't have one. And I went back the next week. I've been to 3 meetings so far. I've learned a lot already. One of the funniest and also the most frustrating thing I've learned is that "the dream of every alcoholic is to control their drinking".

In other words, alcoholics dream of drinking and controlling it. But for an alcoholic, that just doesn't work. The first step is admitting that you are powerless over alcohol.

I'm still at Step One.

Off the Wagon Redux X 2

I haven't blogged since August 13. Because I fell off the wagon again. Even worse.

I guess after going without alcohol for three weeks I managed to convince myself that I could have a little drink or two.

So on a Saturday night, we bought a pre-made mojito mix. I had two. That should have been enough.

But then I snuck into the cabinet where I knew there was some leftover whiskey. And I had another drink. Except that it was really two drinks, at the minimum, because I do a "generous" pour.

Even that wouldn't have been too bad. But then the next night I did it again. Two big drinks with generous pours. And then I got caught. Lots of condemnation (from myself) coming down on me.

So the next night I went to my first AA meeting. That's a story for next time.

Fell Off the Wagon

I fell off the wagon twice in the last week. Not too bad. My husband doesn't know.

We had some leftover liquor in a cabinet. And one day last week, after everyone had gone to bed, I made myself two drinks.

Doesn't sound like I went overboard, does it? Except that when I make a drink, it's at least a double. So that was four.

I enjoyed them. But I didn't enjoy the sense of guilt I felt, and the sneaking around I had to do to get them. And a couple days ago, I had one double in the afternoon.

The good news is that last night I was really wanting that drink. And somehow, I managed to say no to myself. I really don't want to go back there. But I sure miss drinking.

I haven't scheduled an appointment with an alcohol counselor. I really need to do that. Soon.

Two Weeks & Counting

I've been sober for two weeks tonight. Fourteen days without alcohol.

I'm doing OK. Haven't gotten to an AA meeting yet. I know I need to do that. I also need to schedule some time with a drug & alcohol counselor.

Or do I?

I'm still having cravings in the evening. I feel a little sorry for myself that I can't have a glass of wine.

But then I remember that I can't have a glass of wine because I can't have just ONE. One leads to two, and then three. And more.

I have to remind myself of this. I've had a few thoughts this week that, since I'm doing so good not drinking, maybe that means that eventually I can have that glass of wine.

I know this is faulty thinking. I have to replace that thought with something else. I'm trying. I'm doing it. So far.

Sober for 10 days

As of today I haven't had a drink for ten days.

But I've thought about it.

I was alone last Friday night and we did have some alcohol in the cupboard. Half a bottle of Peach Tea Vodka.

I opened the bottle and took a sniff. It smelled good. Real good.

But I didn't drink it. I went back a second time just to smell it again later, though.

But I left it alone. I've been thinking a lot about giving up alcohol and what it means. No more wine tasting. No more buying extra sharp cheddar to go with my sweet wine. No mojitos with fresh mint in the summer time.

But I know I have to stop thinking about it that way. Because it's not just about giving up alcohol. It's realizing that I used alcohol to replace other things in my life. Because I allowed alcohol to usurp the place that belongs to God. My husband. My family. My writing.

It sapped my creativity and blunted my emotions. I know that, yet I'd still love to have a mojito right now.

It's going to be a long journey.

Independence Day

4th of July 2011

I woke up feeling like crap that day. Drank too much again the night before. Felt so condemned and discouraged.

I tried to read my Bible but I couldn't concentrate through the hangover haze. This is what's been happening for at least the last year. In the morning I decide I won't have anything to drink that night. And then 6 or 7 pm rolls around and that motivation disappears like morning mist burned away by the sun.

Somehow I found the courage to tell my husband that morning. Really tell him. Not just "I think maybe I drink a little too much."

I said flat out "I'm an alcoholic." I didn't cry or sob. I said "I have to stop drinking. And I don't know if I can."

My husband supports me. He wants to help me. He offered solutions. But I know he really doesn't understand what's going on with me. How can he? He can have a drink or two and stop.

I can't stop.

I have one or two. And then after he goes to bed I have a couple more. I lose count. And then I stumble to bed in a drunken stupor. I get up early  the next morning and go to work. And no one knows.

Isn't it funny that on Independence Day I declared my dependence on alcohol?