So, my son has Aspergers which, for those of you who don’t know, is marked by (among other things) a lack of social skills. We’re at this trampoline place (we’ve been here a couple times. It’s pretty awesome) and there are WAAAAAAAY more people here than normal. After 15 minutes of bouncing, he comes and says he’s tired, has a knot in his stomach and wants to go home. As much as it hurt me to tell him this, I told him no. I made him wait a few minutes and go back in. I know he doesn’t want to but sometimes we all have to do things we don’t want to do. He’s not having a meltdown or an anxiety attack, so I think I made the right call. It just sucks because I know how awkward new social situations can be and I hate them myself, but part of being a parent is trying to make your kid a better person than you are.
After-note: he just can back from bouncing to get a drink of water, catch his breath and to tell me he was going back in. (Good call, me. Good call)
I am aggravated. I’m aggravated that my car is still fucking broken from a plow guy, I’m aggravated that my fiance thinks its okay to be passed out drunk at noon on a Tuesday. I’m aggravated that I can’t talk to my fiance about how aggravated I am because he’s passed out drunk at noon on a Tuesday. I’m aggravated that he thinks it’s okay to walk to the store in the snow to buy a 30 pack of beer, but that he’s too tired to come pick up our car at the mechanic and go pick up his prescriptions. I’m done with cars, plow guys and people in general. You know what I’m not done with? Coffee. Since I was 12, coffee has never let me down. It’s always been there; warm, comforting and will always listen to my insane rants. I’m tired of hearing “I’m sorry”. “Oh, I’m sorry i totaled your favorite car and almost killed your fiance” “oh, I’m sorry, but we wont be paying on this claim” “oh, I’m sorry that i hit your car with my plow truck and popped the bumper off and took the marker light with it” “oh, I’m sorry that when we fixed your car, we didn’t actually fix it and the marker light comes flying off as you’re driving over a bridge to go get your fiances anti depressant”. I’m sick of it, sick of all of it. I’m moving into a cave and not telling anyone where I am.
I quit drinking. For two weeks. 14 whole days. (You can read about it in previous posts) I lasted 2weeks.
I don’t know what to do about my boyfriend, my ex or my son. I feel so lost. Writing helps. I remember when my boyfriend and I were happy. Maybe we still can be, I don’t know.
I’m drinking now, but I’m still in school and looking to relocate to the city. Big life changes seem to work better for me than gradual ones. I dunno.
ramble ramble ramble
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.
I have made the decision to quit drinking. For the last two years, I have drank almost every day, very heavily. For the five or six years before that, I couldn’t go longer than 6 days without a drink. I have never drank in front of my son, and I thought that fact made me a responsible drinker, and more importantly not a alcoholic. I was dead wrong.
Yesterday morning, I was driving my boyfriend to work, an hour late. I was speeding. We had not been drinking for 7 hours. I got pulled over for speeding, and the cop could still smell the alochol on both of us, after 7 hours not drinking. I got taken out of the car and field sobriety tested. (hold one leg up, follow the pen with your eyes, fingers to the nose, walk a straight line) Thinking I had done well, the officer told me to wait and someone was bringing a breathalyzer. Oh. Fuck. I blew a 0.05 (legal limit in NY is 0.08). The ONLY reason I was not arrested and charged with AI is that by the time he had gotten me back to the station, I probably only would have blown a 0.02, and that is not enough to charge me with anything. He told me to go home, drink a cup of coffee and just sit down for a while. After 7 hours of not drinking, I was still legally drunk. Biggest wake up call of my life.
I took my boyfriend to work, went back to his apartment and drank. Then I slept and cried for 6 hours. He called me an hour before I was supposed to go get him and told me he was quitting drinking, and would I help him. I had already started to make the decision, but that pushed me over the edge. We got home, threw out all the empties we had, plus the rest of the whiskey from the night before.
I have not had a drink in 24 hours, and so far all I have to show for it is tremors and nausea. Let’s see what tomorrow brings.
Thanksgiving has just passed, and Christmas is upon us. My son said to me in the car today that if he were president (which, he totally will be) he would make a law saying that every store would have to hang up decorations relevant to the holiday ’cause he was fed up with Christmas decorations before thanksgiving. (I am paraphrasing here, he is only 9) To which I replied “what about the people who don’t celebrate holidays?” To steal a super proud mommy moment (as I am wont to do), he replied “that’s okay, everyone does their own thing that makes them happy”. (can you see me beaming from wherever you are? ‘Cause you should be able to)
My point in that ((other than bragging about how awesome my kid is) is that Christmas is like Valentines day. If you are only going to show good will towards your fellow man for 12 consecutive days, you are an ass.
I am not a humanist by any stretch of the imagination. The Monarch is, but that’s another post for another time. I believe that if you are going to be something, go all the fucking way. Do NOT do it half-assed. Either be romantic and love your partner every day, or just don’t do it. Either be conscious of your fellow humans or don’t. We, as a species, should not need some arbitrary day set aside to do good things or be romantic or spend time with family. If you need the calendar to tell you when you should do something romantic for your partner, or buy a loved one something that catches your eye or call your grandmother, you have bigger problems.
The Monarch likes bugs. I do not. If I find a bug-related thing I know he will like, I am going to get it and give it to him. February be dammed. If I miss you, I am going to call you, November be dammed. If I am thankful to be a part of this human race (which I seldom am) I am going to help a stranger do something, December be dammed. Do not let the calendar arbitrate your emotions. If you feel it, do it and be it.
(Also, dammed is spelled correctly above,since I was not referring to a beavers raison d’etere)
Okay, So this is my second post now. I go to open this site, and I get instantly nauseous, so I may be doing this after getting my dutch courage up a bit for now. Hopefully this will wear off.(I’m not sure why, though. This thing is new enough nobody knows about it so no one is reading it. If i were to apply an logic to my insanity, I would be more relaxed now than when, if, I accrue any followers)
In this weeks post, I have finished all my schoolwork in an amazing 11th hour hail mary. Two and a half pages of work (single spaced), 5 responses to discussion board posts and a quiz. All this with time to spare to play a stupidly addicting online RPG. This week, and next week, are going to be focusing on correlation coefficients and reserch study designs. See also: everything I actually understood about statistics, but now that it’s actually being applied to m field, I don’t get a single word.
And of course, the pre-requisite mom\\daughter\girlfriend stuff peppered in there too.