Day 13, Saturday...

Today, day 13.  What does this mean?  Tomorrow is 2 weeks, which means I am just about halfway to 30 days.  I know I am supposed to take it one day at a time, but I can't help but think of how good it will feel to get that 30 day chip.  When I get that chip and am able to stand up in AA and "share" with the group, I think I will feel more proud of myself than if I were to win the Nobel Peace Prize.  A month ago I never thought I would be able to make it more than 13 hours, and now I am on 13 DAYS.  Wow.  I am still in awe of where I am at.

Let me just tell you, it feels amazing not waking up with a hangover.  Amazing.  It's honestly a foreign feeling to me.  I still find myself waking up thinking "Ok, how sick am I today?  Is today gonna be a throw up all day kind of day, or just a slight headache?"  When I realize that I am NOT hungover and I have conquered one more day, I get a huge smile on my face.  As hard as this fight is, those are the feelings get me thru the days, sometimes minutes when things seem impossible.  I have been so wheepy the past few days.  I don't know if its the alcohol leaving my system, but it seems I cry over everything.  I cried a few days ago when I missed a green light.  I just cry.  I saw my uncle at the grocery store this morning, and when he asked how I was I started crying.  I'm starting to think that the alcohol is leaving my body thru my tears, and that each tear that falls was a tear I was supposed to cry when I was hiding my emotions with alcohol.  I dunno, just some thoughts.

Thanksgiving was a great day.  I had to work in the morning, but that was ok.  My mom had a dinner at 3, but I decided to stay home and spend some time alone.  Lately I like being by myself.  I feel like my emotions are so all over the place that being alone is where I can let everything out.  Some may say that not spending time with my family on Thanksgiving is a selfish thing to do, but that's ok.  Right now I need to be selfish and think of myself.  I remember when I would drink the saying that goes "Who are you when no one is watching?" would cross my mind a lot.  I would think of how much I hated myself when I was alone because all I would do was take shots of vodka, and sometimes 25 wasn't enough.  Now, I can answer that question in my mind and not feel guilty for what I am doing.  My mind is becoming clear.  The chaos is getting less and less every day, and I find myself fighting maybe 3 or 4 battles in my head instead of 100.  That's what it felt like some days.  The battles I would fight in my mind were endless.  The alcohol wouldn't stop until it won and I gave in and took that first shot to make them go away.  I remember waking up some mornings and glancing to the side of my bed afraid to look at the bottle to see how much of it I had drank.  Some mornings I would look at it and it would be gone.  Not a drop left, and I wouldn't remember falling asleep.  I would sit and think "I swear I didn't drink that whole thing."....like I said, battle after battle.  Now, I don't see that bottle anymore when I wake up.  I wake up to a feeling of accomplishment that I wouldn't trade for the world.

So, day 13.  And what makes this day even better is it's a Saturday night.  My second Saturday where I have not drank.  I woke up today and made the decision to have a sober Saturday, no matter what was thrown my way.  Bring it alcohol, you've got nothing on me!

10 Days.

I thought today would be a really happy post because today is my 10 day mark, and tomorrow is Thanksgiving.  I'm going to be completely honest here, today was hard, today sucked, today I didn't feel like I had shit for courage.  I came home tonight and went straight to my bed and cried my eyes out for about a half hour, got up, took Annie out, and now I am here, staring at the computer, no words.  I don't even know why I cried, but I suppose its good for the soul.  Sometimes you don't need a reason to cry.  Sometimes you just cry.  For the last 6 years I have not felt my emotions.  Every time I got stressed with work or relationships I went straight to the vodka bottle.  It was my comfort, which is probably why I slept with a vodka bottle and a shot glass right next to my bed.  I am now having to deal with my feelings as they come and sometimes I feel completely powerless.  I know that as time moves forward, it will get easier, but right now I am in the fire.  Day 10, man, you threw me a curve ball.  I know that days like today are going to become my new "normal" though for a while.  I knew this when I took the first step.  I may have days where I feel like giving up, and that is OK, the only thing that matters is I don't.  I was thinking today how it feels like I have left behind an old friend.  Its like I almost wonder how alcohol is doing, I want to check in and say hi.  It's a comfort to me that there is a liquor store a mile down the road from me, even though I will never step foot in there again.  Is that weird?  I guess its just part of the recovery process, but to me it still doesn't make sense.  How could I even think of alcohol as being a comfort?  So many questions have been racing thru my mind this week, questions that I can't answer.  Questions that I may never get the answer to.

In light of some of the darkness I have felt today, I have felt so overwhelmed by the love and support that has been shown to me.  I know for a fact that people come into your life at the exact moment  you need them.  Whether it be God, or a Higher Power, I don't think that it's a coincidence.  I have an incredible friend named Jami who brought me a coin to work yesterday that has the serenity prayer on one side, and on the other it reads "To Thine Own Self Be True".  I've kept that somewhere against me since I got it.  In moments of hard struggle today I've taken it out of my pocket and read it. I even found myself closing my eyes and saying the serenity prayer.  I've never really thought about the words to that until now.  I can not change the past, I can't change what I have done, all I can do is move forward and accept and love myself.  That is hard for me to do right now.  Sometimes when I look at my sweet residents at work I think "If you knew what I have done the last 6 years, you wouldn't think as highly of me as you do."  I am not trying to have a pity party for myself, its just the way I feel.  I know in time that will go away and I will learn to completely love myself for exactly who I am.  I may love myself tomorrow, but today, I had a lot of struggles and felt a lot of guilt.  I don't know why I was given this second chance.  With all the people that die of alcohol overdose, I should be one of them.  Why did God spare me and take them?  Again, questions.  Lots of them.  I know that one day I will know why I am here.  I will know my purpose.  I will know why I was chosen to fight this monster.  So here's to day 10, and Ill choose to take another 24 hours.

Honesty

As I sit here it's Saturday night, well early sunday morning now, and I can't believe it. I am sober. The TV isn't spinning as I watch it, I'm not vomiting, and my mind is clear. This is the first Saturday night in 6 years that I haven't been completely smashed out of my mind.  Hi everyone, my name is Amelia, and I am an alcoholic. It wasn't until Thursday night that I actually said those words out loud to a group of people. I never thought that day would come. I never thought I would be the one standing in an AA meeting admitting to people I barely knew that I am an alcoholic.   Step 1, surrender. I think that one must be the hardest step, it was for me.  So here is my story...

Now my story doesnt start with me having a horrible upbringing and coming from alcoholic parents and such, like a lot of alcoholics. I think a lot of people have that misconception.  I had the best childhood a girl could ask for. I had the most amazing parents who loved me dearly, and I was so happy.  I believed in my religion with all my heart and never wavered.  The only time I was ever around alcohol was when I would visit my grandpa on Sundays.  He was always sipping on a double vodka cranberry.  I have always been more of the curious type, so naturally I wondered what it felt like to be drunk, but still never wavered in my beliefs.  When I turned 18 I moved down to Cedar City for school and had the best roommates ever. I absolutely loved my first year of college.  I met, who I thought at the time, was the love of my life.  We got engaged after a year of dating and I was preparing to get married in the SL temple.  Life was going just as I had planned and dreamed as a little girl.  The wedding date was set for June 18, 2004.  I remember going thru the temple on June 15th and having so much love and support from family and friends.  I was making everyone so proud and I felt proud of myself. The night before the wedding my world came crashing down.  My fiancé called the wedding off.  It was one of the most surreal experiences I have ever faced.  To this day it seems weird that it actually happened to me and I am sitting here writing about it. I made it thru.  I made it.  At the time I didn't think I was going to.  It seems like life is a constant "I made it thru" moment. At least it is for me.

After my wedding I didn't know what to do.  I was now 19 wearing garments with no real idea what that meant.  All I knew was that I couldn't take them off just because I didn't get married.  To me it didn't seem fair, but because of what I was always taught I wore them religiously for 2 years.  About six months before my 21st birthday I started having second thoughts about everything.  I didn't understand a lot and felt like I was stuck in something that I couldn't get out of.  I was living in fear of everything. What would happen if I slept without my garments on? What if I missed church?  I knew that this was not how God wanted me to feel.  God is not fear based, God is love.  No one should feel fearful of what happens to you when you take your garments off.  So I did it, I took them off.  I walked out into the world without my garments.  It felt good to not have to put on a perfect face anymore.  I could be me. 

On my 21st birthday I got invited to go out with a few friends to the bar.  I was skeptical because my parents were already hurting that I took my garments off and was not going to church, so it took a minute to decide what to do.  I lied that night about going out drinking, and little did I know that 8 years later I would still be lying, not only to them, but myself.  Until today. I will not lie anymore, I am going to be 100% honest, real.

The second alcohol touched my lips I was hooked.  I've been taught this week that it's actually a disease.  It's something that you are born with.  It's like cancer or diabetes, it needs to be treated or you will die. At first I didn't think I was hooked.  I just knew I liked going out and I liked to party.  When I was 22 I got into a relationship with a really awesome guy, he drank, but I didn't think it was a big deal.  I thought it was cool that I was able to go home and make myself a cocktail and relax.  I was told that it was normal to go home and have a cocktail.  If you aren't an alcoholic, it is, but if you have a brain like me, its not.  I remember every day just really looking forward to going home to that drink. I would make myself a cocktail as soon as I walked thru the door. At first it was one or two, but as the years went on it turned into 3 and 4 with a few shots in between.  I still talked myself into thinking it was normal because I was home relaxing.  I found myself some nights going to bed, then as soon as my boyfriend fell asleep I would get up and go in the kitchen and take 3 or 4 more shots.  Jason used to make the comment all the time "Wow, it seems like this vodka is running out fast.  I swear we aren't drinking this much." I would always tell him that we were and try to talk him into thinking he had more than he did.  Lies. I was lying again.

A few years into mine and Jason's relationship we started fighting a lot.  I've learned over the past few days that it's hard for alcoholics to hold relationships, unless they get help.  I believe that to be true now and I blame alcohol for my breakup with Jason.  When him and I moved to MT it was kind of a last ditch effort to  fix things.  We had good days, but we also had a lot of bad.  Most of those days I was drunk.  I don't think Jason knew truly how much I was drinking.  A lot of times before he would come home from work, if I was home first, I would take a few shots just to start the night. Sometimes it would be up to 6 or 7 quick ones.  The problem with an alcoholic is when we drink it changes us.  It turns us into a different person almost.  I remember one night actually throwing my phone at the wall and breaking it.  That is not Amelia.  That is alcohol.  I remember calling the one I love the most horrible names.  I remember just blacking out at night then getting up and starting it all over again. Waking up knowing there was a fight but not remembering what was said.  I still didn't think I had a problem.  I just told myself I was dealing with a hard relationship.  Excuses.

When Jason and I broke up and he moved out is when it got really bad.  I would go to school, stop at the liquor store, and go home and drink.  The entire bottle.  Now those 3 or 4 shots weren't working.  I had to have a pint to feel it.  I remember waking up some mornings and my mom would call me and talk about things that we spoke about the night before on the phone.  I would have zero recollection of talking to her. I would play along as if I knew what she was talking about but could not remember. I had friends in MT that would tell me that I drank a lot, a couple of my friends would call me "cocktail girl" as a joke. I thought it was funny.  I didn't think it was a concern at all because I was dealing with a breakup and I was single. Again, excuses.

When I moved back to Utah is when it started to click that maybe I had a problem. I was so used to living by myself and doing whatever I wanted and now suddenly I was back in a religious setting where nothing I would normally do was aloud.  I remember panicking because I didn't know where I was going to drink at night to "relax". That didn't stop me though, I started putting it in my car and running out all night and drinking vodka straight out of the bottle.  By the time I went to bed at 10 I was wasted and no one could tell.  I was very good at playing it off.  Alcohol was the way I could sleep at this point, and it wasn't just a drink at this point.  People would make comments to me about my drinking but I would always defend myself and say that I was fine because I never drank in the morning and I had never had a DUI. Excuses. Excuses!! Alcoholism doesn't always mean that you drink in the morning.  It doesn't mean that you have a bunch of DUIs. Alcoholism is a disease.  You can't just have a drink like a normal person and enjoy it.  There is no controlled drinking

On the weekends I would go out with friends and my bar tab was always more than everyone else's.  I would go out and get so drunk that sometimes my friends would have to pull over so I could get out of the car and vomit. I would come home so drunk that most of the time I couldn't make it upstairs without holding onto everything in sight.  My mom would come upstairs and ask me what I had been doing and I was so drunk I could barely hear the question. I slightly remember some nights trying to smooth things over telling her I only had one.  She knew I hadn't, but lying to her was the only thing I knew how to do when it came to alcohol.  I couldn't hurt her anymore than I knew I already had in my life.  I had to lie.  Most of the time I was still nursing the bottle in my purse that she couldn't see.  I know one day I am going to have to apologize to her.  She deserves that.  She never deserved waking  up at 2am from me falling down a flight of stairs.  I cant imagine the worry I put her through. Maybe one day when I have my own child I'll understand.  I know that my mom is the only one in this world that could handle me, and God knew this when he gave her to me.  That is one thing that I am grateful for thru all this. 

Because of my partying on the weekends, Sunday's have never really been the best days. To me, the only word I have been able to associate with them are "hungover".  I have been so hung over to the point where I throw up til 4pm.  This happens most Sundays. My mom would ask me why I would lay in bed all day and I would just say I was tired from the work week. Sometimes I would lay in bed til 8pm.  I would lay there and cry because I wanted to change so bad and be like a normal person.  I would look on FB and be so jealous of all my friends who were out doing things. I wanted to be like that, but didn't know how.  I didn't know how to be normal. I was a slave to the bottle.  It was my friend, but it was also my worst enemy. Its like a hate/love relationship. When it's around it calls to you and makes you feel like the only way you are going to feel good is if you drink, or you won't be able to sleep unless you get drunk.  It's a never ending battle, and It takes a wake up call to actually change.  My wake up call happened a few weeks ago.  I remember waking up one Sunday morning and I was completely soaked in my own urine.  I had drank to the point where my brain was no longer connecting to my body. I shouldn't be alive, I shouldn't be here typing this. I have never in my life felt like that. It was that moment of low that I cant explain.  I knew that I had to do something because if I didn't I would die.  I cant live like this anymore.  I cant, and I won't. So here I am. I'm not going to lie and say I enjoy being sober.  My body feels better, but because of how my brain works I just naturally like being drunk.  I won't give in though, I won't. I am going to overpower the one thing that has overpowered me. I'm going to take this challenge that God has given me and make it just a slight stepping stone to my next place.  I hope one day I can help other people that struggle with addiction.  I've got this.  Today, day 7. One week sober. Come with me on my journey to sobriety.