I fell off the wagon. Hard. I don’t know how to get back up. I also found out my boyfriend, who has continued to be very supportive, also started drinking again. He was sober about 4 days. He did, however., go from 2 gallons of wine, an 18 pack and half a bottle of whiskey in two weeks to a 6 pack and a gallon of wine. So it’s progress. I made it 14 days. Two weeks. A fortnight. Then, we went to the city for christmas to see his parents. We went out to dinner, for sushi. (I LOVE sushi) and I had a bottle of sake. Then another. Then I stopped at the liquor store and in two days finished a bottle of Jim Beam. Then I bought two more smaller ones over the next two days. Three days after that, I bought a bottle of no-name–rot-gut whiskey. This has, so far, lasted me three days.
I need to stop this before I kill myself with it.
I think this is day 5….or 4. Something like that. While I stopped getting carsick when I drive, I still wake up with an upset stomach. I have also been able to stop counting the minutes at night. The first two nights, it went from “one day at a time” to “one hour at a time” to, literally “one minute at a time”. I can count days now, which I guess is a good sign. I’m just really, really tired all the time. All I want to do is curl up in bed and sleep. And sleep isn’t coming all the easily to me, so it’s a catch 22. However, when I am awake, I can actually enjoy things like spending time with my son.
Tomorrow will be the first time I’ll see my boyfriend since we quite drinking, and I’m a bit nervous, I must admit. For the 5 or so years we’ve known each other, we’ve never not drank. One of us was always a little buzzed. Not only that, we’re gonna be at his apartment, which is where we did most of our drinking to begin with. Let’s see how this goes.
I also have to say again, I am stupidly proud of myself that I stopped counting the minutes I had not drank.
Okay, so my first 52 hours sober have been awful. I can’t really speak to my mental state, since all I’ve been is exhausted. My body is rebelling against what I’m intentionally not doing to it, and it sucks. I ache all over, my stomach feels like I got hit with a bowling ball and I don’t want to mention the fight my organs are putting up getting used to solids in my body. (good job guys, keep fighting the good fight) Driving makes me car sick. I live on a very windy, turney, hilly road on top of a frikin mountain. It used to be that every day when I woke up if I wasn’t vomiting, I was dry heaving. That, unfortunately, has yet to change. Tomorrow maybe? All I could stomach was ginger ale (begrudgingly) and saltines…and water. An ass-ton of water. I do not have happy insides right now. On the plus side, I haven’t had to take any ibuprofen or naproxen sodium at all today. (I used to take upwards of 5, 250mg ibuprofen and another 4 200mg naproxen sodium pills a day)
Sleep last night was….interesting. I’ve heard of hallucinations while detoxing, but the dreams I had woke me up they were so gddamm real. At one point in the dream, there was a dog licking my hand, and I was surprised when I woke up and my hand was dry.
My boyfriend has been so supportive and is doing markedly better with this than I am. We’re both pretty depressed people for the most part, but he seems to have taken to this like a heroin addict to methodone. I am really lucky to have someone like him to support me in the ways he does. Everyone has been really supportive and I really am a very lucky girl.
On the plus side of all these crappy side effects, it has made me see one thing, I will never have another drink. I cannot stand putting my body trough this rigamarole ever again. I hate that it took a huge wake up call and my body trying to kill me from the inside out to realize that, but I’ve never been one to half-ass anything. Apparently this is no different.
On a side note, this blog will, eventually, be about psychology and science, but right now I need to get myself better. Also, no one reads this, so there’s no one to complain. wadoo.