120 DAYS.....totally dry!!!

Almost one third of a year!

I am flying along on the wings of sobriety. No cravings, no urges for any alcohol at all and I am enjoying the clarity that this brings.

Unfortunately I have come down with some flu of sorts which has rendered me fatigued with total body aches. It is shitful. I have no energy at all, thinking is an effort let alone doing anything.

It has smashed my mood down to an uncomfortably low level, however, rather than wave the Bipolar flag, I am aware that even 'normal' people feel this way while suffering from this bug. It is not helped by the seemingly relentless communications that are coming my way from certain quarters who will not accept the changes I am choosing to make in my life.

I could write a totally separate blog about emotional connections and disconnects, but instead I can recognise that my drinking and emotional upheavals were firmly entwined. It is actually the source of my alcoholism. I reached for a 'drink' to soothe an emotional landslide at the age of 15, and that is where it began. You see it is one thing to have a drink or a few too many and end up drunk...but it is the 'reason' for having it that makes the difference between being an alcoholic or not. Well that is my opinion in any case.

Some see it as a rite of passage, of 'growing up', of being an adult or to fit in with your peers, to be socially accepted. That is our culture and it has been for hundreds of years. For some it may in fact start that way, but at some point, you pour another one because 'you have had a bad day' or 'you are sad' or 'everything is giving you the shits'. Sometimes you find that 'people start laughing at your jokes more' and you feel special, or that you 'fit in better'. That is when it can change.

My reason was that I felt totally out of control. I experienced a complete break down of trust in my whole world and as a teenager with no self esteem, could not process it at all. So I wanted to block it out...with whiskey. It worked as long as I kept the buzz going. Well so I thought, of course now I can see it just blurred it all into a maze of whirling thoughts that steadily increased speed until it was invisible to me.

Here I am now at the age of 53, looking back and recognising it and I want to reach out to that young girl, who felt lost and alone, abandoned and confused and tell her that I care. Sadly for so long I didn't. I didn't care because it felt like the ones I depended upon didn't either. This manifested into my deep seated belief that I wasn't worth caring about. How sad is that!! But it's true.

Fortunately I care now. I care about me. I want the best for me. I forgive me. I accept me. I like me.