Just checking in. I am still sober. Back on Prozac. Busy. Will write a real blog later.
A few months ago, my mom said something that has stuck with me. We were watching the news together. There was a story about the ship that went missing during that tropical storm Joaquin, (or did it become a hurricane?) They were showing the crew that disappeared and of course made a point to mention a lot of Americans. (Why would Americans care if it was mostly foreigners?) But then my mom said “oh wow, a bunch of good-looking people too.)
My response: “because if they were ugly, it wouldn’t matter if they went missing?”
She got flustered and said of course not, it was just a shame. Then we changed the subject. I felt bad. She didn’t really mean anything by her comment. But it reminded me of the house I grew up in and the attitudes.
Looks mattered and I felt I never had them. Or at least not ones the media or society prefered. I had two sisters who I always felt were prettier. My older sister teased me that she had “boyfriends” when she was 8 but at 12, I still had no one interested in me. All my friends had their first kiss by then. I turned my jealousy into judgement and I called them sluts. At 13, I asked my mom for a nose job. She said that was something I could worry about when I had my own money. (And I finally did get one when I was 32, but still wasn’t happy with it.) My mom gave me a book when I was 14 on how to make Frenchbraids and once I learned to start doing so to my hair, I finally heard her compliment my looks.
This was a blog I started last fall. I never finished it but as I went to write something tonight, I saw it. I thought it was appropriate for how I am feeling lately and my latest problems with my mother.
I felt better today, but I think that is because I got sleep. I’ve said it before: sleep is the best drug! I still called out sick from work tonight. I had to so I could get that sleep. Plus I was sick in the way of my mental health. Depression.
I found myself crying at work the previous night and thinking of suicide again. I even googled “does slicing your wrists hurt.” There was a website that gave details of better ways to slash your wrists! It suggested a warm bath to dilate your blood. I started to wonder if I should put a shower curtain in the tub first to make clean up easier. Then I felt guilty of leaving all that mess for my landlady. Would my blood seep down through the floor and drip into her room? Would she have problems renting the place after word got out a suicide happened? Would I stain the vintage, yellow bathroom tiles? By the end of my shift, I was beginning to erase cutting myself as a way to end it all. I still stole a scalpel blade that I saw laying on a desk on my way out. Just in case. I think it was used to open envelopes or boxes.
I cried myself to sleep but set my alarm to call out for my next shift. When I woke up, I went to the movies. I saw “Hello My Name is Doris” with Sally Field. It was a good and funny movie. Something in it made me think I need to change my thinking. I need to be nicer. Lately, I have been such a bitch. I have developed a very bad attitude at work. I think the stress of school is partially to blame. I snap at people and try to keep to myself. I have been feeling that I hate people. I would rather spend my shift alone. But my drive to alienate myself if actually causing me to be hated. I think. I definitely do not feel liked by many people. So something in this movie made me think maybe I should try. At least smile more. It might actually be harder than it sounds.
I really struggled this past week. I really wanted to drink. And I was close to doing so. I really thought about going to the store and buying a 6-pack of IPA. Or maybe just one big bottle. I only wanted one.
Then I decided if I was going to break sobriety, I would want to do it with more flash. I did not want to do it sitting home alone. I did not want to do it in a bar with strangers. I also would not want my friends to know. So I thought I would do it on my next vacation. I am going away in 2 weeks to a place that is known for their vodka. And even though I wasn’t a vodka girl, I would treat myself to a shot of their best vodka. Maybe a beer to chase it. Maybe I would become a travel drunk. Only allow myself to drink in other countries. I could go back to my sober life once I return to the states. I actually started to fantasize about having that first glass and sort of feeling free. No more struggle to fight the disease. Just let it win.
Fortunately, part of the lesson in my nutrition class last week was about alcohol. The chapter was about energy metabolism but also talked about the influence alcohol has on the body. The damage it does to the liver. The effect it has on the brain. It listed the short term problems and the long term problems. It has a table with the signs of alcoholism. I read them and was reminded why I can not have even one drink. Tolerance. Impaired control of amount of drinks. Time spent drinking or recovering. Withdrawal. I remember my body actually shaking sometimes the next day but I never credited it with alcohol withdrawal. It is not so much about abstaining to impress people with my number of months just to get a 2 year coin one day. I am not a moderate drinker and I never will be so therefore I should not drink any alcohol. At all.
I was lonely and depressed last week. I avoided Facebook for a couple of days because it seemed every time I logged on, someone else had a positive relationship status change. Everyone is having kids and settling down and they have nothing else to talk about. Real world issues don’t exist to them because their families have become their real world. And in my real world, I am still struggling. No one checks in on me like they do when wanting monthly updates of pregnant friends. I need to find a group of sober women, who are child-free by choice, and like to travel.
I went to the doctor and got a prescription for Prozac again. He also had me set up an appointment with a therapist in his office but she is only there one day a week. I can not see her until June. Not sure if she works with alcoholics much, but at least I am getting a start. Maybe she can recommend someone.
And on a positive note, the city I am going to in two weeks is very expensive. I do not really want to waste my money on vodka and beer.
Yesterday, I got a nasty letter from a family member. I am not going to go info the details, but it got me very upset. I sat in my car crying for awhile. Then I thought a spinning class would help exercise out my feelings. But no classes starting nearby soon. I then thought yoga would help. Again, no classes available. Instead I decided to go to an AA meeting.
I have been to this meeting previously. It is near my work and has meetings that end right before I go to work. It was an okay meeting and I even shared. It was a large group. I started to consider making it my home group. I left it feeling better.
Then an hour later, I got an email on a dating website. It was a guy that I exchanged a few emails with a few months ago and then he deleted his account. It was a simple, friendly email asking how I was doing. I told him I have been busy with work, school and traveling.
Then this morning, he replies that he think he saw me at the AA meeting. He said he recognized me from the website. He restarted his account just to message me. Next time I see him at a meeting, I should say hi.
I thought AA meant Alcoholics ANONYMOUS! His message made me feel so awkward. What if somone else recognizes me? What if it is a crazy guy from a dating site that starts to stalk me? What if somone from work sees me leaving there? They know I am not Christian so it would seem odd that I am hanging out in a church right before work.
I regretted sharing. I am not going to those meetings anymore. Not sure if I want to go to any in this area now. It would seem like this should be a happy moment like “oh you finally met a guy” but he did not seem interested in seeing me again besides bumping into each other at a meeting. Why did he have to message me? He could have said something at the meeting or waited until we did bumped into each other. I want to delete my dating site account. I don’t want to take that chance anymore.
And I feel depression is hitting me again. I am avoiding Facebook now cause one more engagement or pregnancy announcement might push me over to edge. I am starting to be tired of being alone.