After Four Weeks of Not Drinking, I Can Finally Breathe

 

Four weeks ago I felt like I was literally drowning.

And looking back, I actually was.

There is a reason that people use the term "drowning our sorrows". And I was doing just that. I was drowning my sorrows, my anxiety, my overwhelm, and myself.

I told myself that I had reasons to have that drink. Of COURSE I had reasons to have that drink.

I was a single Mom of three busy boys. I ran my own business, and well...Covid. I had financial worries and motherhood worries and lunches to make and laundry to wash and clients to service. All of these burdens deserved a drink to get me through AND THEN after, as a reward for me getting through them.

What becomes clearer to me everyday is that every single glass that I drank pulled me deeper and deeper down into that poisonous liquid, drowning me- instead of saving me.

I drank because my kids were 'too much'. Now that I am not drowning myself I simply see a teenager navigating adolescence. I see my 10 year old empath, that takes on everyone's energy (good or bad) from the day and needs to share that with me in order to make sense of it. I see my 7 year old trying to make sense of this mask-wearing, fear-driven world we are living in.

And now that I can breathe, I am no longer overwhelmed. I can comfort, soothe, listen and love. And I now realize that this time is fleeting.

I drank because I was overwhelmed with work. Which caused me to become more overwhelmed with work because I drank. I felt that I had it under control. I never got hangovers, but that was because I was constantly topping up the cup that I was continually drowning in. It never got empty.

Drowning had me constantly in a state of panic. Fearing what my life would look like if I could ever stop pouring the liquid that was actually killing me. I felt safe in the blurry. In the numb. In the oxygen-deprived life that I had created. 

But now- I can breathe.

And now that I can see clearly and compare both ways of living- I choose breath.

I have come up for air. I have breathed freely for four weeks. 

And I know that I will never drown myself again.

Blessings.

Why I Do Not Use the Label 'Alcoholic'

 

I absolutely HATE the thought of being labelled an Alcoholic.

This word makes me feel weak and powerless.

It makes me feel like I am depriving myself of something that the majority of the world can consume with no consequence, so there must be something lacking in myself that I cannot do the same.

The truth is, I am now a non-drinker. I made the choice to no longer partake in an addictive substance that increased my anxiety/ depression and had a powerful grip over my life.

I made this decision before reading a couple of books that have completely solidified my choice. Those books were 'The Easy Way To Control Alcohol' by Allen Carr and 'Quit Like A Woman' by Holly Whitaker. I HIGHLY recommend both of these books if you are at all curious about your own relationship with alcohol.

One of the things that really struck me about both of these books is their deconstruction of the label "Alcoholic". I could never quite put my finger on why the term always seemed the wrong fit for me as I struggled with my own alcohol-abuse. I have been told by several people, since I became sober, that I should join AA. As though that is the only way to succeed with this decision. I am in no way trying to say that this program doesn't work- I know many people that it worked (and does work) amazingly well for. It just didn't align with me. 

I believe that is because when you introduce yourself, you do so as "Hi, I'm Melissa (or, insert name), and I'm an Alcoholic". I could never bring myself to do so. Why is this? I could joke and call myself  'a functioning alcoholic' for years. I could introduce myself at a meeting and say that I definitely abused alcohol with no problem.

I remember learning in health class that Alcoholics were born. This is also, from what I understand, what AA teaches. That certain people are genetically predisposed to being unable to control their alcohol use. This made me feel extremely safe in regards to my own alcohol consumption from the very beginning. My parents never drank. There was no alcohol ever in my home growing up. So, there could be NO WAY that I could ever have a problem with it, right? Obviously, wrong. As Allen Carr states in his book, if this is true- could we not come up with a test for us to take as children to know which of us should avoid it? Of course, this is not possible, which shows that this is unlikely a genetic issue.

I also believe that the term 'Alcoholic' gave me permission to continue to abuse alcohol. When I heard the stories of the people that identified with this label during an AA meeting recount their stories, I felt vindicated. I didn't drink until 4 or 5 in the morning, sleep for a couple of hours and go to work still drunk. I didn't crash my car. I didn't have my kids taken away. I was fine.

But I wasn't fine. And I can't say that those things would not have happened if I had continued on with my relationship with alcohol.

For me, and maybe this is because I have now been engaged three times and divorced twice, it helps me to look at alcohol as a toxic relationship that took me years to finally be free of. We would break up, then make up, over and over and over again. I knew that this relationship was bad for me and destructive for my life and my family, but it just made me feel SO GOOD! I now know this is a lie, in the same way that I can look back on my past relationships and see the ways in which they were harmful for me.

Well, I am happy to say that I have broken up with alcohol. But I don't know if I was an alcoholic any more than I can say I was addicted to my husband(s) or fiance. 

Holly Whitaker says in her book, 

"We are conditioned to ask ONE question, whether  we MIGHT be an 'Alcoholic',...and ONLY if we qualify, are we suppose to do anything about it."

and

"Alcohol is addictive to everyone. Yet we have created a separate disease called 'Alcoholism' and forced this on the minority of the population who are willing to admit they can't control their drinking."

These and many other reasons are why I do not refer to myself as an Alcoholic. You may, but I do not.

I am Melissa, and today I celebrate three weeks of not drinking. I am a Mama of three amazing boys. I am also a Hairstylist, Aesthetician, Entrepreneur and Friend- among many other things. 

But I am not able to be encompassed in one word. One label. One disease.

Thanks for following with me on my journey.

Blessings.

Fourteen Days Dry. The Good, the Bad and the Ugly

 Fourteen days. I had heard many different opinions on how alcohol withdrawal would go. And I had my expectations of how it would go for me. For some time, I put off quitting because I feared the withdrawal symptoms- and used that as an excuse. So I thought that I would share my experiences here, for those wondering.

Detoxing from any drug that your body has become dependent on will obviously cause some effects. And just as obviously, HOW dependent you have become on that drug will effect the severity of your symptoms. I myself, had become almost completely dependent on it. I could not get through the day without it. Truthfully, it had gotten to the point where I needed a drink every morning just to function.

THE GOOD

I truly believe that I was SO ELATED that I was finally escaping the alcohol trap that for the first entire week, I felt very little adverse effects of quitting. Or, at least, they didn't bother me as much as I had expected them to.

I felt completely free from the desire to reach for a drink during those first 72 hours. I had read many times that this is the amount of time it generally takes to rid your system of alcohol.

Many people complain about anxiety during the initial withdrawal period. I have to say that mine dramatically improved. But I truly believe that alcohol intensified my anxiety/ depression exponentially. Feeling out of control of my life and my actions caused me to feel overwhelmed and anxious, which had me reaching for the bottle even more often to cope with those feelings.

My skin immediately improved. I had been dealing with an almost constant rash across my forehead and chest, that I was pretty convinced was alcohol-related. But, did that stop my drinking previously? Of course not.

I felt less bloated. My head was clear, with the occasional brain fog- but compared to the constant fog/ memory lapses I was used to - I still felt really great.

I would say the BEST side effect to quitting was that I felt PRESENT with my boys. Most nights previously, I was numb. Trying to escape. Sometimes I would pass out while tucking one, or two of my boys into bed. Now, I am actually enjoying reading, playing games with and really conversing with these amazing little humans.

THE BAD

Of course, I experienced the usual headaches (in fact, migraine-type pain) for about 11 days after quitting. This was not that different from my life during alcohol-abuse, though. The only difference is that before quitting, I would always "medicate" with more alcohol to dull the pain. Interestingly, day 11 was the worst. I was in bed most of the afternoon, popping Tylenol. Thankfully, my headaches seem to have subsided since then.

My hands trembled for a few days after quitting. The good news is, my clients understood and were extremely encouraging. Hair services took a bit longer to do, but I definitely found it manageable.

Sleep was illusive for those first few nights. But, truth be told, I haven't slept well in over a decade. I remember a naturopath explaining to me years ago that waking at 3am every morning (my nightly sleep pattern) was connected to liver problems. I knew that made sense, but it still wasn't enough to make me want to quit.

Sweating. OH. MY. GOSH. The sweating. If I DID get some sleep, I woke up in a pool of sweat. All throughout the day I was sweating from normal exertion. I knew that this was my body's way of detoxing from the poison that I had poured down my throat for so long, but it was definitely uncomfortable.

I also dealt with my heart racing for about a week. I didn't notice it as much when I was awake, but that was one of the things that contributed to my insomnia. As I lay in the dark, exhausted, my heart raced so fast that I wondered if it would every slow down. It has.

And weirdly, yesterday (Day 13) was one of excruciating back pain and lower right abdominal pain. Kidneys detoxing, perhaps? Unsure, but today I woke up feeling great.

THE UGLY

The "UGLY" has been the cravings. It hasn't been that I want alcohol, per se, but quitting the habit of pouring a drink in order to 'cope' has been has been difficult. Even though I know now that the ability to cope was the last thing pouring a drink would help me with, it was my go-to for SO long. I have quieted those cravings with Lyre's Non-alcoholic Spirits, and Acid-League Proxies. The sipping of something with a bit of a 'burn' has helped me significantly.

The "UGLY" has also been the conversations that I now have with myself.

The doubts that I can actually do this. The thoughts that I am probably not really this strong. Imposter syndrome, coming out with a vengeance.

Or, similar to the reprimanding that I did with myself after my last husband ruined me financially... "How could I have been so STUPID?" How did I allow myself to get so far gone? Thank God nothing worse had ever happened to myself or to my precious boys while I destroyed myself- because I had become a terrible mother.

Or, how could I have wasted so much MONEY on this poison? As someone that considers myself very frugal with money- this hits home, and I continue to assault myself with these thoughts.

Although the physical symptoms have dwindled or disappeared, these conversations with myself remain. This will take time through forgiving myself, personal development and reflection.

Fourteen days has felt like a lifetime. Today I am grateful for audio books, good friends and my boys that make me want to get well.

Today I will try to have positive conversations with myself.

Today I will be brave and face the day with a clear head and embrace life without the need to numb the uncomfortable.

Today I will strive to live a life that I will not feel the need to escape from.

Blessings, friends.

Seven Days Sober

 

It's been seven days since I've had a drink of alcohol.

To many, that might sound insignificant. To me last month- that sounded impossible.

A couple of years ago I blogged about how I felt that I had completely bought into the "Wine Culture" that is so prevalent in our lives today. How wine had become such a big part of my daily life that it actually worried me. And I vowed to cut back.

And I tried. And I failed.

Soon after, I replaced wine with vodka. Vodka was more cost-effective and much less obvious that I was drinking it. One of the reasons I felt that I needed to cut back on wine was that I didn't want my kids to observe how much I was drinking. Vodka seemed to fix that.

For two years I have said "I need to quit drinking". And I actually meant it when I said it. I just didn't believe that I could. After a trip to Mexico in February 2019, I really wanted to AND felt that I needed to. But a short time into Covid lockdown the next month and I was right back at it. 

I tried. I failed.

I asked my Dr. to do some bloodwork this past fall after some strange health issues I had been experiencing, and specifically requested she check on my liver.  As I suspected, my numbers were severely elevated. I promised that I would cut back, or quit. 

I tried. I failed.

And so went my endless battle cycle with alcohol. I felt that my life as a single, self-employed mom was too overwhelming, but then felt out of touch with my life because of the alcohol. More overwhelm, more alcohol. 

Trying. Failing. Drinking to forget I was failing. Failing because of my drinking.

I have listened to a million TED Talks on how to quit. I have scoured YouTube for tips. I talked to my Dr. and I attended an AA meeting. Nothing seemed to "fit" that would take away that craving to escape. 

I have tried to control my alcohol consumption for two years. Tried and failed.

Last week I looked at myself in the mirror and I finally realized that it was the alcohol that had the control over me.

I realized, as I looked at my reflection, that if I didn't stop- there was no doubt in my mind that I would eventually drink myself to death. And I decided to look at alcohol like a parasite that was trying to control me. Drain me. Destroy me. An enemy instead of a beloved friend.

I often look back at the times I've tried and failed to quit drinking alcohol. And I feel ashamed that I couldn't succeed. I feel weak.

Today I feel strong.

I feel proud that each time I tried and failed, I tried again. I feel thankful that failing meant learning and growing, instead of giving up.

I am seven days sober and I am learning and growing every day. I am walking this road, not in naivety- but armed with the wisdom gained from past failures.

Thank you for reading about my journey.

Blessings.