4 Months + 10 Days Later

Feeling compelled to write, I thought, "Well, before I start, let's just see how long I've been sober?"  So I "Googled" for a 'between two dates' calculator, and plugged in 03/13/2011 as the begin date (because that's actually the last time I woke up with a hangover) and today as the end date, clicked on the "include today in the calculation", and found that by providence, not coincidence, today just so happens to be exactly 4 months AND 10 days of sobriety for me! 

For those of us who have endured the grueling, although rewarding, 10 days of treatment at Schick-Shadel, the term "10 Days" becomes quite significant.  And today, no truer statement exists, than for me to say that without those "10 Days" I wouldn't have the 4 months that goes along with it.  Can I get an Amen to that Sisters?

This week has been very emotional for me.  I completed my 90 day recap treatment at Schick over the last weekend.  I set some healthy boundaries for myself in my personal life.  I hosted my first Bunco in sobriety at my home.  I have attended three support group meeting this week.  My daughters are still in California with their Dad.  And I had a person I care very much for show up on my doorstep this morning in their own emotional crisis. 

Through all of the happenings in just the past week, I have been reminded of and humbled by my importance here on earth.  I might not cure cancer, or fly to the moon, but my existence on this planet does make a difference, and sometimes even a profound difference in the lives of so many.  I am constantly surprised by the quiet voice in the corner of a Support Group meeting, or the email from another continent, that reaches me at just the time I need that extra bit of encouragement, that says "Thank you for sharing your story...because it helped."

There's such an important lesson for me in the events of this past week.  A reminder that I do my best work when I work on myself, and when I share MY story with others.  Not lofty ideas or theories.  Yes, I can share the theories as I learn them, but the important part is when I remember to not only share the idea or the theory, but how I made it work for me.

For example, hosting Bunco at my house this month.  I had a few moments of terrible anxiety about hosting Bunco.  My house wasn't ready, and with all of my best intentions, here I was down to the wire again and overwhelmed by this sense of failure that I was yet again doing the flight of the bumble bee to get my home in order and be prepared to welcome my friends.  So I had to think about that for a while.  Why was I so stressed?  Why was I so anxious?  And the answer was that I was going about it just like I always had back when I was drinking.  I was creating the chaos that would (previously) justify and give me a reason to get a good "buzz" on.  However, knowing that I am not that person anylonger, was the part of me that was creating this uneasiness inside of me.  My sober self was screaming from the inside "DANGER WILL ROBINSON, DANGER".  

That's when I took an emotional inventory.  Why am I hosting Bunco?  Do I want to drink?  What do I want from hosting this Bunco?  What are my motives?  

The answers I came up with were encouraging for me.  I was hosting Bunco because I truly wanted to hang out with my girlfriends.  I wanted to have fun.  I wanted to be loud.  I wanted to laugh.  I wanted to celebrate my independence with my friends.  No where in that inventory did I ever find any answer that indicated that I wanted to drink.

Then I tried to figure out why I was feeling so overwhelmed.  And the biggest reason was because my lawn wasn't mowed and my house wasn't clean.

Armed with a more well defined understanding of my motives and knowledge of why my gut felt "off", I created a plan.  This is a little technique that they taught us in treatment, but I am still practicing it.  I thought about the situation and identified the most important aspects:  

1. I was hosting Bunco.
2. People would be showing up at my home at 6:30pm.
3. I had to serve food and beverages.
4. Bunco would either be played indoors or outdoors depending on the weather.  

Then I took those elements and set about writing down a plan that broke it into smaller, manageable, clearly defined tasks.  I made a point to allow myself time to actually make dinner from scratch because I wanted to force myself to do something different than I usually did, which was to buy a ready-made lasagna and throw that in the oven so I would have enough time to get my buzz on before everyone showed up.  I set time limits on those tasks.  I was flexible enough with myself to only make myself accountable to clean the public rooms where everyone would be hanging out.  I limited the playing to indoors which removed the need to mow the lawn.  And I was resolved and firm enough with myself to stick to the plan and ONLY do my best, not strive for perfection.  And you know what?

This was the first time that I've hosted Bunco and done all of the prep work myself.  I was completely prepared by the time my guests started arriving.  I was sober, I was sane, and I had a GREAT time.  But even more than that, I felt this AMAZING sense of accomplishment and fulfillment for what I did.  I felt so self reliant, self confident, and worthy.  Which allowed me to just "be" in the moment with my friends.  To be completely PRESENT in the moment with my friends.  I kicked stress out of the drivers seat of my life and firmly planted myself back in control of the wheel!

So...here I am, 4 months AND 10 days later, and alcohol no longer runs my life.  Stress no longer runs my life.  I am no longer on auto pilot.  Low self-esteem no longer controls me or my actions. 

I am present.  I am valuable.  I am worthy. I am sober.  I am a messenger of my journey.  I am love.                

Karma, Karma, Chameleon!

I have been a chameleon in life and up until just recently, I had always thought that was a good thing.  [Enter irrational thinking stage right.]  For those of you who have a healthy sense of self and self esteem, this might seem like a no-brainer to you, but to me, and those like me who do not or have not always had good self esteem, keep reading.


What I have learned is that every time I adapted or evolved myself to fit into my current surroundings, I was actually sacrificing my SELF.  Sounds crazy, right?  Because isn't it good to try to fit in?  Isn't it good to be adaptive?  And the answer to those questions is yes, but...and it's a BIG BUT...BUT...the caveat is, so long as you are not trying to fit in or adapt at the expense of yourself.  And that is the part that I never understood, because I never knew who I was.  At least not to the point that I was ready to stand up with pride and conviction for what was true to me.  I would change like the wind would blow.  Of course, this hasn't always been the case, and it is not a blanket statement about myself for every moment of my life.  Like any star, I had times when my truth would shine through and I would glimmer with brightness, but these times were always short-lived and usually followed by some major crisis that I would create through self-destructive or self-defeating actions.  


So why would I do those things?  Because I didn't believe in myself.  Did you know that right now is the first time I've ever really been alone in my life?  It is.  I've always gone from one serious or semi-serious relationship to another because I've always been other-dependent.  I've always needed (sometimes desperately so) the validation of another person to feel like I mattered or had worth in this world.  Even though people would tell me continually about how smart, talented, and beautiful I was; it didn't matter because I didn't believe it.  


That's why I think being a chameleon is one of the most dangerous, destructive things a person can do to their sense of self and esteem, because it's very easy to don a mask, and hide with your empty self in plain sight.  It wasn't until I took off the masks and admitted that I was completely absent of self esteem and empty on the inside that I was finally able to start healing.


I used to fill that hole with alcohol and other self-destructive behaviors.  Except that no matter how much alcohol I would pour down my throat, it was never enough to make me feel good.  Actually it never made me "feel" anything except numb, and at some point along the way, that numbness got to be my best friend.  That numbness was my coping skill.  That was it folks, that's all I had.  


Now that I do not turn to alcohol to cope, I have been able to identify that chameleon for the dangerous and insidious creature that it has been in my life.  I am finally able to say I know who I am, and that I really like myself.  I am a person that I really enjoy hanging out with.


How about you?  Do you like hanging out with yourself?