THANK YOU!

First of all, I just want to thank each and everyone one of you who commented on, liked, and reblogged my previous post. The outpouring of compliments, reassurance, and kindness means more to me than any of you might think. I am still getting comments rolling in on the blog (thank you! Keep them coming) and I reached almost 60 followers because of that post. It’s so nice to hear from so many people who are on their own leg of this journey. I truly can’t explain how happy all of you made me.

In case you were wondering, I made it through St. Paddy’s day just fine. My fiancé and I ran a 5k in the morning and ended up going out to our favorite bar (which I do from time to time) and got some dinner. I watched the stumbling, loud drunks and realized that I didn’t miss it at all. Last year, I WAS one of those people. By 10:30 I was drunk and on my way home hiccupping furiously in the backseat of my boyfriend’s parents car. I was so grateful that this year it was not me. One girl got kicked out of the bar around 8:30. While I was standing in line to get a refill of soda, I overheard other patrons talking about how ridiculous she was. I felt a wave of shame come over me thinking of how many times something like that may have been mumbled about me. At that moment, I felt so VERY secure in my decision to quit drinking, that it was amazing to me that I even wrote that very last post. That’s how sobriety is, I guess. In one weak moment, we are questioning everything and, and in the next we see how we truly were, and are thankful we are no longer that person. It’s kind of funny.

We went to a party that night too that some friends of my fiancés held. It was nice. I met some new people, and talked with some old friends from high school. No one was overly intoxicated and I wondered if my perception of St. Paddy’s was even really what I thought it was. Did I just THINK I was missing out on the fun because I had always been drunk before? Because nothing I saw that night when I was sober played into what I “thought” I’d be missing out on. Everyone was calm, and talkative.. no one was really centered around slamming beers, or doing shots. It was nice, actually. In fact, there were several others there who weren’t drinking as well and reasons aside, it was nice that I wasn’t the ONLY sober person there.

 So all in all, I think I learned a valuable lessons this weekend. WE mold our perception of what we think is “fun”. I had just as much fun this year, talking and remembering conversations, than what my expectation of fun (getting wasted) has always been. I don’t even understand why I thought it was fun to get so drunk that I didn’t remember anything the next day. WHY did I think that was what I NEEDED to do to have a good time? I sure as hell didn’t miss the hangover, the waste of an entire day nursing a hangover, and just the way your body feels horrible after a night of heavy drinking. I thought of that girl that got kicked out and know in the end, I had a way better time than she did.  

Oh and one more thing… On St. Paddy’s Day, I was exactly 9.5 months sober! =)

Thoughts on 5 months of sobriety

I am 5 months sober today. Things have been going good lately! The cravings, which I think were just an “adjustment period” have subsided and I’m really starting to become OKAY with not drinking ever again. I will admit that in the beginning, the thought of never drinking again caused me quite a bit of anxiety, which I know most of newly sober people go through. Now, however, I am quite content with not drinking. I love coming to work on Friday’s with a clear mind and able to get through the day without wanting to sleep on my desk because I’m hungover. I love not regretting stupid things I did, or said the night before. I love being secure in a relationship and knowing that I’m not putting it at risk every time I put a glass to my lips. I love that I’m learning to discover myself, and who I am without covering it up. I love that I get so much support online, in person, and in the blogging world. It really makes a big difference knowing there are others out there struggling just like I am.

I think a lot of my “Drinking friends” don’t understand why suddenly I quit, and I guess I don’t expect them too. I fear they think that I’m better than them, or don’t want to be around them because I don’t drink, because that’s simply not the case. However, I do wish that we could all do something that just once doesn’t revolve around drinking, but nothing ever comes to fruition. I guess I’ve sorta given up on it. I think I make people uncomfortable being around them because they DO want to drink doing pretty much everything, and they worry that I’m going to be a party pooper. It saddens me, but a lot less now than it used to. I realized it was more the drinking that I was hanging on to, rather than the people because when it comes right down to it, we did nothing but drink together anyway.

So here’s to another month of Sobriety!

Forgiveness: Better late than never

I’m pretty happy to be where I am today. I was thinking about everything I did this weekend, and fifty percent of it was spent with my father. Four years ago, I didn’t know my father. I have never known my father, and the only things I knew were the opinions my family members had of him which weren’t very nice. All I knew was a half mangled story that my dad was an alcoholic who spent most of my childhood in jail or running from the law. I technically saw him until I was 4 years old, but he was never there, so I spent time with his sisters who took care of me on “his weekends” while he was out bar hopping, pretending to be a rock star. Eventually (and the reasons I’m not sure I know) I stopped seeing his entire side of the family, and for 20 something years, I never saw them again, even though they lived in the same town as me growing up. I always thought my father left me, abandoned me without a trace, with no thoughts in his glazed over brain about the daughter who would grow to hate him, and for the most part, that’s true.

I remember when I was in elementary school, I found a metal box full of letters from my father, that he had written to my mother/me from jail begging us to move to Florida, and that he still loved us. I sat on the floor in my bedroom and cried, reading his poorly spelled chicken scratch on yellow lined paper. I was upset to find that what I thought and what happened were two different things. My mother had moved on, she was done with my dad. I don’t blame her, and never have. We closed that box and for another 12 or so years, I left it alone. In those years, I grew more and more afraid of getting close to any man that I met, mostly “father figures” because they always went away. I blamed my dad for having a hard heart. He left his daughter and made her an anxiety ridden girl, with an empty spot in her heart that was supposed to be filled by her father’s love, and no one else’s.

Shortly after 9/11, my father called my grandmother’s house where the number had been the same for 30 years. By coincidence, we had been living there taking care of my grandmother who recently suffered a massive stroke. He was drunk, and wanted to talk to me. I didn’t even have to think about it. I told my mother no, and walked away. He wanted me to “forgive and forget” yeah. Like it’s that easy. And so several more years passed without a thought of my father.

One day in my early 20’s, I was driving in my car, and I thought “my dad will die someday, and I don’t even know that I’ll ever know” and the thought really upset me. I decided I was going to contact his mother and try to get in contact with him. He may have been a liar, and a drunk, but he was still my father, and I felt I should offer him a chance. I wrote her a letter and gave all my contact information. She called me a few days later and gravely informed me that my father was a pretty serious alcoholic, and she just wanted me to know that before I contacted him. I told her I knew and asked if she could pass on my number to him. He called one night shortly after and was in utter awe, that I wanted to talk to him. He told me he’d be coming up from Florida for Christmas, and he’d love to see me. He said he’d call when he got here. I spent the next few days full of anxiety and nerves, but was also excited. But that phone call never came. Christmas came and went, and thus started the cycle of disappointment that followed. He finally called sometime in January blubbering some drunk excuse for why he couldn’t make it. I was furious, and hurt! He lied to me and hurt me AGAIN, only this time it hurt SO much worse than before.

He eventually moved home to the town I lived in, and we met a handful of times. He was always drunk, and didn’t show up for plans more than he did show up. We were supposed to meet for a football game once but he never showed. I called him that night and screamed at him that I didn’t need him in my life is this is what he was going to do to me! Of course he apologized but those apologies never meant much to me. Over time I stopped returning his calls. I wanted to see how he was, and he wasn’t someone I wanted to be in my life. Months would pass, and even a full year at one point without speaking. And so, this is how it remained for a long time… up until recently.

About 6 months ago, he called me drunk and bawling saying he was going to kill himself because I didn’t love him. He said that he didn’t turn out to be the man he wanted to be, and he had failed me. This is all I had ever wanted to hear, that he realized that he had hurt me. It was obvious that he did, and it may have even spawned a lot of the drinking. I promised him that I did love him in some way, but that he needed to clean himself up and we could start trying to build back our relationship. Instead, 2 or so weeks later he was in the hospital, nearly dead from a two week whiskey binge out in the middle of the woods. I went to visit him a day after one of my biggest drinking days, and saw him, not as a drunk, but as a man who was stuck. Someone so overtaken by addiction and disease and loneliness, that I no longer felt hate, and pity. It simply dissolved and a new feeling came over me. Hope. Forgiveness. I needed to be here for him, and I couldn’t do it unless I stopped drinking. I am almost 5 months sober, and so is my father. He’s so happy, and healthy, and full of life. It’s truly been a transformation for him, and myself, and our budding relationship as Child/Parent. I can tell he cares about me, and always have. He’s there at my races, cheering me on, and it means a lot to me. So from here on out, I have my father back. It will never be the way it’s supposed to be, but just opening my heart back up, has left me feeling like a new girl myself. Happy.

Cravings Cravings Go Away……..

I am 4 months sober today. I never would have imagined that I’d make it this far, although I see no room to allow for a relapse. It seems as time goes on, the cravings are getting worse. I suppose it could be the environments that I’m placing myself in. I went out this weekend with my boyfriend and my best friend and another friend. We went to Frederick to go out. I felt stupid sitting with my ginger ale while everyone else sipped away at rums and cokes, and tasty drinks. I’ve reassured myself over and over again that I don’t need alcohol to have fun, but it doesn’t feel that way when I’m out. I feel like the one bumming everyone else out. The difference between myself and them though, is that I probably wouldn’t have wanted to stop at two drinks…and that is where I always bring myself full circle again to “I know I can’t drink.”

It seems pretty simple, right? Most of the time it is. I don’t know why this struggle isn’t backing down. I know the simple answer is “stop going out with friends” but I really don’t do it that often, and it’s great to see my friends, and just because I have a problem doesn’t mean that my friends can never go out to a bar. If anything, all of this just confirms that I do have a problem with alcohol. I know most people don’t sit around feeling the way I do if they don’t choose to drink. I’ve just went out for SO long drinking to be someone else.. someone fun, and who dances and does ridiculous things, that it still feels strange going out and not being that person. I expect in time that feeling will go away and it will just BE normal for me to be out and not drinking.

*sigh*

The upside? Waking up sober is great. Remembering how I got home? That’s wonderful. Not EVER having a hangover? Splendid. Not having to worry about getting pulled over on the way home, drinking my calories, worrying about upsetting my family… all of these are the GOOD reasons why I don’t drink.

 After a couple years of drinking I got what I called the “Reverse hangover” where I’d feel great the first 5 or 6 hours I was awake, then slowly over the course of the afternoon, I’d feel shaky, ill, hot, and get the heart palpitations. It occurred to me recently, that this was not a hangover.. I didn’t have a hangover, I was going through alcohol withdrawal. Not. Cool.

I had an incident last year at work (after a night of heavy drinking on karaoke night) that I came into work, and I was very dizzy, and faint. My legs locked up and I couldn’t walk. I eventually went to the ER and was given an IV because I was dehydrated. I was fuming at the time because I knew I was battling some kind of sickness (which I later found out to be Celiac Disease) and all they did was pump me full of saline and sent me home. It occurs to me now, that that may have been a reaction to all the drinking I had done the night before. And that’s when I come back to reality. Is getting wasted really worth everything good I’ve done in the last 4 months? My family would be upset, my boyfriend would be furious, and I’d be downright depressed that I did it.

I won’t do it.

There will always be a struggle…

Hello all. Checking in again. I’m not sure why blogging and checking my blog always seems like such a daunting task. I love reading all my posts from everyone, but I can never seem to find the time to log in.

What’s going on in my world? Well.. I ran my 7^th half marathon on Sunday 9/23. I was nervous about this race, and it turns out, it was for good reason. My personal worst race. It was even worse than my very first half marathon. I’m kind of bummed that all my races seem to be taking a downturn instead of improving.. what’s happening? Literally.. my times go like this:

1^st– 2:37

2^nd – 2:27

3^rd – 2:20

4^th– 2:18

5^th– 2:15 (PR)

6^th– 2:28 (ouch!!)

7^th– 2:46 (BIGGER OUCH!)

This course was described as “rolling hills” but it was more like “tortuous steep breath sucking small mountains” I literally couldn’t catch my breath before the next hill came again. I was walking by mile 2, which really upset me. I’m really big for trying not to walk AT ALL during a race. In my mind it means I’m failing. I’m not actually running.  There were some hills that hurt bad just to WALK up. I have no idea how anyone ran up them. The sucky thing about this race was it was just two loops. So the horrible hills you ran the first time, you ran again. I think I even shed a few “I’m in pain, what the hell was I thinking?” tears. It was so frustrating. The weather was gorgeous, but my lack of training made this my most miserable race to date. Ugh. Trying to pick my head up and aim on my next two races 10/13 and 10/21. I can’t possibly do this bad again, right??

Eating Paleo is going well. Everyone has something to say about it, but I’m doing what works for me. I’m cooking more now than I ever have. I hope to stick to it forever if possible!

I’m almost 4 months sober. I seem to be struggling more and more the longer time goes, but I know I won’t give in. I’m doing my best to take it day by day, but I’m still romanticizing my relationship with alcohol. I had fun! I laughed! And I had friends. Now, I hardly do anything. Still I have to think back to the times that brought me to the decision of KNOWING I had to quit drinking. Like blacking out in the middle of the afternoon about a year about when I moved into my apartment. Went down to the bar (about 100 yds from my house) and drank a bunch of beer on an empty stomach.. I woke up later thinking it was like 9pm only to be mind blown that it was almost 5am! I lost about 8 hours of time. I have no idea what happened, what I said, how I walked back ( I was with my boyfriend at the time, so I wasn’t alone) or if I even paid my tab! These moments are the scary, raw things that most people that drink “normally” don’t experience. Drinking stops becoming fun when every time you drink, you don’t remember anything. If you are blacking out every single time you drink, it’s time to stop. I have no doubt in my mind that if I kept drinking (or resume drinking) I’ll be a full blown alcoholic. That’s what will pop into my mind when I think I want to have “just one drink” sometime. I can’t DO IT. I just can’t.

MRIs’s, Cravings, Vacation.. Ya know, Regular Stuff.

Well, I’ve been doing a bad job at keeping everyone up to date, because I’ve been so busy lately. I’m such a bad blogger! Sorry everyone!

 SO, first. I went ahead and had my MRI of my head last Friday morning. I took the day off because I didn’t know how long it would take, and honestly, I just wanted the day off. Before I went in, I was sitting in this little waiting room and this older lady was talking about how awful the MRI is. She said she had to come back because the first time she freaked out, and this time she had to take two valium. I was not doing well when these stories started. I’m very claustrophobic and the more this lady talked, the more ill I was starting to feel. I knew it wasn’t painful or invasive, but I was still scared out of my mind walking into the room. The laid me down on the bed and put ear plugs, and big padded headphones on my head. I closed my eyes the minute I was lying flat, because I didn’t want to see myself going into anything. They remained shut for the next 35 minutes. She asked what kind of music I wanted, and I just said “I don’t care” and then they buckled my head into a cage type thing and away I went. I’ll spare all the minute details but it was pretty awful, even with my eyes closed. It was SO SO loud, and you can’t even hear the music they play for you. At one point I started to panic, and really thought I was going to get sick. I mentally talked myself down and told myself that I was just nervous and that there was no reason to be nervous. All in all, it was pretty awful. I really hope to never have to have another one. I guess I will get results (if there are any?) this week sometime.

 Yesterday was my birthday as you all probably saw in my short picture post. Aside from attending a funeral for a friends brother, the day was very nice. I didn’t really do anything, but I enjoyed it. Saturday I went to DC with my best friend and my boyfriend. We just wondered. We went into some shops and went to the Natural History Museum. Friday night (hmm going backwards) my family and I went to Macaroni Grill and had dinner for my birthday.

 As of today, I’m 86 days sober. I really can’t believe on Friday it’s been 3 months since I’ve had a drink. I never would have imagined myself being able to do this. I was always at the bar, and I felt comfortable there. Now, It’s pretty foreign being in a bar. I thought I’d really miss it more than I have, and I’m starting to comfortably part with the friends I’ve lost in the process. We were friends that had drinking in common, and now I don’t do that, so my friends and I have no common ground. At first, I fought it. Now, I just carry on. Such is life…..

 I’m not going to lie, and  act like things have been great. It seems like the past week or so, the cravings are stepping up in intensity. I really keep thinking about wine. I know I don’t want to drink it, and I know bad things will happen if I do, but I can’t help myself. I know for a fact that I drank to get drunk, why would I think after just 86 days, that I’d be able to moderate? What exactly do I miss? Not being in control? I have no idea. I know I won’t drink, but I also know the craving process is natural. It’s not physically quitting that makes me strong, but STAYING sober, that makes me strong. It’s hard. I deal with it as it comes, and don’t even voice it out loud most of the time. I know I can do it, and I don’t want people constantly worrying about what I’m doing and what I’m going through, if that makes any sense.

 Finally, My vacation is so close. I cannot express how excited I am to get away, to be off work, and to be on the beach. We are leaving the night of 9/8 and driving halfway to Myrtle Beach, SC. From home to the beach it’s about 10 hours for us. I like to drive half way and stop because I’m always so excited to get going, and it breaks the trip up. We are staying in the same hotel as last year and it will be nice because everything will be familiar. I’ve been counting down the days since we had well over 100 and now we only have 8 working days!!!! I can’t believe it’s finally just around the corner.

Last weeks catch up

I haven’t logged in to blog as much as I’d like to lately. To be honest, I don’t feel like what I have to say is much worth reading about. It’s the same ol’ stuff, ya know?

This past week was a loss for me. I was down and out with some sort of headache which I still cannot define. On day 7, I finally visited a doctor because nothing would make it go away. I was a little freaked out because also, last week, my best friend’s brother passed away due to an abscess in his brain. He went to the doctors complaining of a headache. It was very sad. I normally would not have gone for a headache, but this made me think twice. I saw the PA and it was clear that she didn’t know what she was doing. She gave me a shot of torodol, and phenegran, and gave me a Maxalt tablet for a migraine. It didn’t really help. So I drove home with a prescription for prednisone, and more Maxalt (which cost $50). I took one prednisone but didn’t take anymore, because I don’t see how a steroid is going to help since the only way she could explain it was it [prednisone] “shrinks things” so, no. I didn’t take any more.

Because of this stupid headache, I didn’t do any running all week. I wasn’t happy about this because I am on week 2 of half marathon training. I did a crappy job training on my last 2 halfs, so it’s really important to get the proper training this time. I finally made it out on Saturday and ran 5 miles on the C&O Canal. It was a nice run that I enjoyed. It was the longest run I’ve had since my last half in May.

I woke up yesterday morning with my headache from hell raging. It’s so strange. The back of my head hurts and then it radiates up to the front of my head. At points, it hurts to hold my head up, as if something is wrong with that muscle. It gets much worse when I’m up walking around, and If I’m completely flat laying down. As you can imagine, this makes things pretty inconvenient. I considered going to the ER a couple of times but decided against it. I’m still feeling it mildly today. I’m really hoping it’s on its way out because I’ll probably have a breakdown if not. So yesterday was spent laying on the couch and sleeping. I hope I can be more productive this week.

As far as quitting my anti-depressants, I am taking everyone’s advice and I’m going to continue this. You guys all opened my eyes and made me realize that right now is not the time to make that switch. I don’t know what I’d do without you guys! Really!

My vacation is quickly approaching. Just a little over 2 weeks now and I absolutely can’t wait. I’m not too worried about the cravings to drink because I really never drank THAT much while on vacation. I might have had a night or two but other than that it wasn’t like I was drinking all day long. I am excited to get out and do other things, and most of all, just getting away from this town I live in!

Hope everyone is well.

Blossoming in Sobriety

I’m at a cross roads, but not with my sobriety. I’m at a cross roads with my anti-depressant. I’ve been taking Paxil since January for anxiety/OCD. I drank while taking Paxil 3-4 days a week, and I know you aren’t supposed to. I could feel it working when I started taking it, and found relief in it, and was able to stop getting on my own nerves, and everyone around me. However, in the 75 days that I’ve been sober, I feel that I’ve been lifted to another step of happiness. I feel like my whole mindset has changed levels, and it gets me thinking that I don’t want to be on this medicine anymore. I have learned that I used alcohol to mask my problems, and remove myself from the real world. It seems that I have really bad coping issues. My whole life I’ve brushed a lot of shit under the rug. A fight with my friends, and I’d pretend it didn’t happen because I hate confrontation. I held negative feelings against people I hung out with because I didn’t want to deal with the mess that would happen when I brought them up. All in all, I just compartmentalize all my negative feelings away so I didn’t need have to deal with it. I guess I still feel like I’m doing that being on anti-depressant. I’m being controlled by a substance that is altering my brain, and I’m not sure I like it.

 When I finally admitted to myself that I had a problem with anxiety, it took me another year or two to break down and get on meds, because I really hated the thought of something controlling me, but isn’t that what I was doing with alcohol? I didn’t think so at the time, but I can see now that it was. My sobriety is opening my soul up like a flower, I’m blossoming, and turning into the real person I’ve held inside for so long. I feel that the Paxil is just another mask, the last petal that has yet to open. I want to be me, and be my own person. I want to rid myself of any substance I’m putting in my body.

 Then the crashing reality hit me today. What if the Paxil wasn’t working when I was drinking, and it is INDEED the Paxil that is now making me the happy, blossoming person I am now?? What if I stop taking the Paxil, and I turn back into the introvert, anti-social, anxiety ridden person I used to be? And that is where I came to a rickety stop at my cross roads. The signs read “happy dependence” and “Unsure freedom” and I really don’t know which way to go. Someone on an addiction board I’m on suggested not changing too much at one time and that 75 days was NOT a long time to be sober. I get that, I really do. But something is urging me to quit the pills. I need to exercise Cognitive behavior when anxiety hits. See what’s really bothering me, If I can live without alcohol, surely kicking this SSRI can’t leave me a completely different person, right?

 What are your thoughts/concerns?

Thankful for those red warning flags!

The other night I got to thinking about  how some of my friends don’t understand why I quit drinking. I can imagine if I used the word “alcoholic” around them, they’d stare at me like I had 3 heads. Truth of the matter was, I functioned very well even when I was blacked out. Most people I’ve drank with had no idea I was as bad off as I seemed. I would wake up the next day and tell them I didn’t remember anything from the night before, and they were completely surprised by that.  It scares me to think back on this. I really was becoming more and more “immune” to the alcohol. The last time I drank for example. I went to an all-day blues festival where in the VIP tent beer was free and wine was $1 per glass, and these glasses were full all the way to the top. I kept stacking all my cups as the day went on. The final count? 17. 17 glasses of wine?? Who does that? Oddly enough, I do remember a lot of this day, but a lot of my friends there “couldn’t believe I was still standing and coherent” This terrifies me. How was that possible? All my friends got a kick out of it. They laughed as I danced with strangers, and I even took a big ol swig of whiskey from someone’s flask, but they question why I want to quit? 

 I always had what I called a “reverse hangover” where I’d feel fine almost all day and then when it got into late afternoon, or evening and then I’d start to feel bad. I’m now starting to think that it was probably withdrawal, and not a hangover at all. I’m part of a recovery message board that I love so much, and I’ve read a lot of what withdrawal is to other people and I can relate. I feel so fortunate to have seen the warning signs for this as soon as I did. I could have spent another 30 years (like my dad) stuck in the webs of alcoholism. So far, without alcohol, life it pretty much the same, without the shame, and remorse of being a total ass the night before. I’m saving money, and calories. So all in all.. it was a great choice. At work yesterday, I openly told a group of people attending a meeting with me that I don’t drink anymore due to personal reasons. In my head I pictured people fainting, throwing tomatoes at me, and even pointing and laughing. In reality, no one even batted an eye. They just said “Oh, cool” and kept going about  the discussion. The easier saying that out loud becomes, the easier I think everything will be! 41 days today and doing great!

Vacation and Sobriety.. Making it work!

I’m sitting here thinking about how fast July is going, and it occurred to me that my vacation to Myrtle Beach is coming rather quickly. We are leaving for the beach on Saturday 9/8. I absolutely can’t wait. This year, however, will be different. I won’t be drinking on vacation. I’m not even sure what that’s like, and a part of me (the alcoholic part) is mad that I can’t be normal and have a few drinks while relaxing on the beach, or have a few when I go out to dinner that night.  Vacation has always been about relaxing, and having a drink nearby always seemed to go hand in hand. Everyone in my family except for mom will be drinking on vacation, and most likely while I’m sitting right there. It surely will be a challenge. I keep saying how I’m going “one day at a time” so why am I suddenly worried about a vacation that’s still two months away? I’m not sure really, I guess because it’s the only thing going right now that I’m really looking forward too. I don’t know what to do down there on the evenings if I’m not drinking! Why is the unknown so scary? I know there are plenty of other things to be doing.  I can, go play mini golf, or walk along the beach, sit out at the pool, go shopping, and play with my nephew. But the fact that I can’t go bar hopping is bothering me a little deep down. I guess it’s just a reminder that I’m not immune to this… I’m not getting away from this. It will always be there. It will always need “cared for”.  It’s like having a little child at your side that’s constantly pulling your hand in the direction of ice cream, or toy’s they don’t need. I’m the adult that has to reel the feeling back in. I can’t drink normal. I know that. I really do. So many times I’ve experienced the shame and remorse the morning after drinking. What happened to the night? What do you mean I did all that? I don’t remember that!  One morning in Ocean City, MD, I woke up wet and covered in sand in my bed. I had no idea what had happened the night before. It was a huge blank burned out spot in my memory. I found hundreds of pictures on my camera of me lying on the beach, playing in the water, and doing a bunch of things I don’t recall doing at all. This is NOT how I want my vacation to be. After seeing the pictures, the feelings of embarrassment kicked in, and I downed two beers at 8am. Here is my reminder.  I can’t drink normally or like normal people rather.

So instead of focusing on the bad, I’m trying to think of the good things about being sober on my vacation. First, will be being able to wake up nice and early to push open the curtains and see the beautiful ocean and beach without being hungover. I also will be able to go running which is part of my half marathon training plan and not be sick, or even push it off because I’m not feeling well. I’ll be able to hold every memory close to my heart, instead of not remembering because I blacked out. I’ll save myself many calories, headaches, and worry that I embarrassed someone.  I’ll be able to explore new places and things I’ve never seen or done in Myrtle Beach.  And most important I’ll be 66 days sober at that point. Just over 3 months! That’s really not worth throwing away my sobriety for.