It’s been 5,389,108,038 days since I’ve had a drink.
Fuck no it’s not. It’s been 127 but right now in this moment it feels like a lot longer. I feel a familiar restlessness. Boredom. Boredom is never a good sign.
I have this sinking feeling I’m on the verge of a relapse. I have these secret thoughts trying to snake their way through my mind.
“You can probably handle just one.”
“Drink once then go back to being sober.”
“Just do it and don’t tell anyone.”
“Summer is almost here…are you really not going to drink at the beach? On the deck at home?”
So I’m putting a stop to it now by owning it and telling the world. Okay, telling anyone who reads this. The point is, I’m not keeping it a secret.
Oh, and I’m not actually going to drink, don’t worry. I want to. A LOT. But I fucking refuse to give up this easily.
Recognizing these signs has been key for me. I know boredom is a trigger for me. I also know nice weather is a trigger. I also know there are deeper things going on.
My husband and I are separated. We have been since mid-February. We have no idea if we will reconcile eventually or divorce and truly there’s no rush but this being in limbo is starting to wear me down. I don’t like not knowing. I like to have a plan. So this is fucking hard.
What’s really driving me crazy is that I don’t know what I want. Part of me wants to save our marriage. Look back when we’re 80 and say, “Holy fuck, we survived all of that!” (And we truly have been through damn near everything you could think of. Yes, even that.) The other part of me wants freedom from the brokenness of what we’ve become. At this point, neither of us are meeting the other one’s needs and this part of me wants to let go. While I have no desire to end my marriage in hopes for “greener pastures” as I know damn well that another man/relationship/marriage would just mean another set of problems, maybe there is someone out there better suited for each of us as we’ve become very different people than we were when we were younger. Even for him – Lord knows I have not made his life easy the past few years and there’s a lot of needs of his I know I am not meeting though that’s difficult for him to admit. And maybe I’m the one who’s better suited to meet my own needs. The entire situation is not sitting well with me recently which is a driving force for my discomfort. I don’t know how to answer the question, “When is it giving up versus when is enough, enough?”
There’s instability and big changes coming at work as well. This is another source of anxiety and discomfort for me. In the end I am confident that things will be okay but for now, it’s the “not knowing” once again that throws me off balance. (Has it become obvious yet that I’m a Type A personality who feels the need to be in control of everything?) Also…wow…this one is hard to write…I also thought that the career I chose was my life’s purpose. I was put on this earth to do what I do. It is my passion. However…recently…as I experience more of my own recovery and form relationships with other addicts in recovery and read and hear more stories like mine…the pull in my heart has slowly begun to change directions. What if? What if I’m supposed to share my story? Work with addicts? Change the stigma? Help someone else who struggles the way I struggle? I don’t even know what form that would take or how it would look. It’s just this tiny voice, calling from within, that maybe there’s something else out there that I’m supposed to do.
I’m also becoming very aware of my relationship with food lately. When I was drinking I didn’t give much thought to that because frankly, I wasn’t eating much since I drank so much. Now I have a lot more time and clarity to notice what I’m choosing to put into my body and the fact that I’m actively choosing to put in things that give me a certain comfort as opposed to those that might be a healthier option. It doesn’t help that swimsuit season is quickly approaching and while I talk a good game to those who know me about owning my curves and strutting around proudly in my “fatkini” I don’t feel half as confident as I pretend to.
There is a gentle nudging from deep within me. It is quiet but getting louder each day, telling me that I’m going to have to face these issues that I so clearly do not want to deal with if I want any relief from feeling like I’m walking a fine line between sobriety and relapse.
“It’s hard to find what is the truest thing about us if all we do is keep running and running and running.” – Unknown