Day 1.5…rehab?


I couldn’t do it. A friend texted me about 5 last night and said he was going to the pub. I caved in an instant. Well, I was sitting at home, alone and miserable.

Today, I’m hungover, and scared. I mean, really scared that I can’t do this. I called my AA sponsor last night. He thinks I should go to detox and rehab. Rehab! That’s the last place in the world that I want to end up. I can’t afford a private one, so there is only the one government one to go to, which is where my sponsor sobered up. He’s been clean and sober ever since, about 10 years now. If I end up in rehab, I’ll lose my job, then I’ll lose my car and whatever precious little dignity that I have left! Yes, all that scares me alright. Scares the crap out of me.

It’s just after 11 AM. I only now got dressed. Brushed the fuzzy mittens off my teeth. Gagged when I brushed my tongue. My throat feels raw from the gallons of gasoline, beer I poured down it last night. And did I mention that I’m scared? Well, paranoia is typical hangover leftovers. I know that, but it’s not fun going through it, just the same.

I think I’m also scared to stop drinking. The booze has been my trusted, faithful companion for so many years. Home alone? Burt the beer kept me company. Stressed out from living apart from my kids? Sally the Caeser comforted me. Ok, I’ve gone to AA, have hundreds of hours of therapy. I have all the “tools”, ways and means to stay sober, but I’ve lacked the fortitude I guess. Whenever I have sobered up previously, so many feelings come rushing in, overwhelming me, I end up calling ol’ Burt and Sally for help. Even my therapists have been frustrated. My case is complicated, I guess. *sigh*

Ok, I’m going to give it another go today. See if I can keep myself out of rehab. Oh man!




How short-sighted we are…

Oh my. Despite this mornings grand declaration, I still went out this afternoon and drank like an elephant. This morning I totally forgot about the Soccer cup championship going on. Of course, one of my soccer-fan, beer buddies, wanted me to join him at the pub to watch the game. Of course, I went…had a couple beers there, then came home and hit my favourite local for a few more, and here I am, all pissed up once again.

The soccer is only going for another week. So, I may end up doing my best to keep a cap on things, so to speak, during the next week and THEN do my detox and get on the wagon thing. Oh my.

I know! This is typical alcoholic behaviour! I know that full well. I know that all too well, actually, which sort of spoils my drunks.

I talked to my dear old friend, today…the guy recently diagnosed with ALS. I told him I was going on the wagon. He laughed and said he was glad that (age 75, dying of ALS) that he didn’t have to worry about that anymore. He’s been a heavy drinker for his whole life. Now, with the ALS eating away at him, he’s HAPPY that he still has his occasional drink to look forward to! Imagine that. Seriously, imagine that. Gives a different twist on it all, doesn’t it?

And on another note. Another friend told me last night that his liver enzyme reading lately was 289, which is dangerously high. My last liver enzyme count was 44. He and I drink the same amount (as far as I know). Life is a strange one, but a great one if we have the right attitude towards it.

Y’all take care.


Day 6…got sloshed last night.

Day 6 of my sobriety….

Yup, I got sloshed last night. And, yup, I’m still calling today my Day 6 because I see this as a process, not a competition. Unlike AA thinking, I don’t think I need to reset the clock and start from Day 1 again. I didn’t take a step back last night, I just temporarily wandered off the path–the clear path I started on 6 days ago, the one I’m back on today.

It was virtually impossible not drink last night actually. I spent the afternoon helping an elderly friend of mine. I took him to the hospital for his MRI, and then after that to get his blood work done. Last week he was diagnosed with ALS—Lou Gehrig’s disease. A neurodegenerative disease, it’s terminal. There is no cure and even no medication that’s effective at slowing it’s inevitable progression. Once diagnosed, the expected time till death is 2 to 5 years. My friend can barely walk now. Sadly, I don’t think he’ll even make it to 2 years. So, after the 4 hours it took for us to get his medical things done, I know he absolutely loves to go to the pub, so that’s where I took him, with pleasure, for him, not for me, so that I could get sloshed. He was very grateful. Of course I joined him drinking beers. I gave myself permission, so to speak. But I didn’t give myself permission to get sloshed. Well all alcoholics know, one beer so easily leads to more—often many more. I had many last night…

I slept like crap, waking up numerous times. This morning, I’m feeling quite hungover. I’ve been worse, but I already know that today is a write-off. I’ll not go for “hangover relief” today, however. I have no plan to drink anything at all. I’m back to Day 1. If I have to have a wee bit of wine at some point today to help with any withdrawal, I will, but I don’t think that will be necessary. I have successfully detoxed myself this week, for the most part. Yesterday I was feeling very spacey, not grounded so to speak, but still felt very well, as my blog post described. That spacey feeling isn’t there today, but that makes sense. My brain hasn’t been without alcohol for 5 days in a row, for YEARS. Like, 13 or 14 years, so of course my brain is going to take some time to adapt to being alcohol free. I can live with the spacey feeling. It is SO much better than how I feel today. Today I feel cloudy, ill, numbed.

I’ve been on “vacation” for the past few days. In fact, as I noted earlier, I planned these two weeks off expressly for the purpose of getting myself sober. Yesterday, until I started to drink around 5 pm, aside from feeling a bit spacey, I couldn’t believe how well I felt, how clearly I was thinking, how little anxiety I had, how positive I was feeling. Comparing today to yesterday, I can see more clearly than ever just how much the alcohol has dumbed me down, today, and for way too many years. For oh-so-too-many years. It’s a bloody, tragic, horrific loss. A loss of precious time in my life (I’m nearing 60) and a horrible loss of my potential. Reflecting on this now makes me want to drink! But I won’t. My health is good, I know I still have time to improve the quality of the rest of my life by getting, and staying sober, and that’s exactly what I’m going to do. This is my heroes quest, my dragon to slay, with Gods help.

Thanks for being here with me on my treacherous journey to sobriety and sanity!