What? Yes. Still sober. Sugared out, but still sober. I think I gained about five pounds in two days, but I’m still sober. 75 days and counting. Go, me!
And, the only sad things about today and yesterday were the somewhat minor but honestly, incessant, pangs to imbibe; and the memories of how horrible things were last Christmas due to my drinking. The memories don’t fade, which is extremely helpful to me: as they say in AA, remembering–feeling it, even–how bad it was keeps the incentive to stay sober evergreen.
I had a great few days. Lots of cooking, eating, talking, hanging, petting of dogs, hitting of beaches (well, I ran and hit the beach yesterday before our evening dinner party), etc. I mean, I felt, for the most part, GREAT not drinking. However, the longer I stay sober–and especially through days like today, where I actually felt a little left out, like I was the narc, the mother, the den leader, the dance’s chaperone–the more I see just how bad it was back then. The more I see just how bad *I* was. I was in serious denial for a long time! It’s only staying sober through it all, like holidays and times when it would be SO VERY NICE to have a glass of red wine, that I am allowed the view, y’know? Afforded the opportunity to see the subtle (in my mind) difference between “not that bad” and well, reality.
I mean, last Christmas? I spent it alone in [cold west coast city]. Alone in my studio, hung over from a ridiculous night out–also alone–which I barely have any recollection of except that I went to a Couchsurfing event almost blacked out; and eventually (after maybe going to a club, I don’t remember) brought home some dude who was thankfully NOT at my place when I woke up, completely clothed (including boots on) with a near-full bottle of Southern Comfort on my kitchen counter. (Was my blackout state not enough to clue him in that I really didn’t need anymore to drink? Maybe it was I who thought it was a good idea to buy it en route home that night because OF COURSE, it would be! I don’t even LIKE Southern Comfort! Ugh.) I spent most of Christmas Day in bed, and then forced myself to walk around, alone, in the cold, horrible [cold west coast city] fog, painfully pulling myself down hills and hoping to God(dess) that I didn’t have a panic attack in the middle of Chinatown.
This year? Worlds away. Entire galaxies. And, it makes me realize just how hurting I was.
Anyhoo, not to wallow, I just wanted to check in and say I MADE IT THROUGH another holiday of dinners and brunches SANS the grape! And, even though there were pangs, I am happy, calm, and proud to have just let them go. And, as always, they came and went and I’m still here, with my memory, pride, and self/spirit/soul intact! (I also probably saved myself thousands of calories; really, I am SO fucking full, I cannot imagine also having drunk red wine!)
I look forward to what the next 15 days, New Year’s Eve, and POST-90 looks like sober… 🙂 Merry Christmas, all!