I had the strangest day 9

It’s been a pretty good week. I was free from cravings until yesterday when I felt that familiar cranky itch to numb out. I know by now that my subconscious has deeply ingrained patterns that are fairly predictable. I knew that this would happen some time around the end of the first week. I’ve been talking to my subconscious kindly, as if it’s a juvenile part of myself. I’ve also been trying to remember that my conscious self has the final veto on that trip to the shop to buy wine. Internal deals were negotiated, pizza and cream buns were eaten, Netflix was watched and I didn’t drink.

Yesterday I set off walking to buy groceries and saw what I at first thought was a schoolgirl collapsed on the floor at the end of my street. People were walking past and gawping but not helping. As I got closer I realised it was a small adult and from her appearance and the collection of belongings that had spilled from her bags I guessed that she was homeless.

I admit that as a total introvert my first instinct was to avoid the situation completely but I knelt down and gently shook her shoulder and woke her up. I asked if she was OK, if she’d taken anything or needed medical help. She told me that she’d been drinking but was mainly just exhausted. I asked her where she was on her way to and she told me her ‘home’ was the bandstand in a local park. I offered to walk with her and help her get back there. Her response was a shocked ‘Really? You have the time?’

I picked her up off the floor, helped her balance while she put her lost shoe back on and packed up the clothes that had fallen out of her bags. She seemed suspicious. ‘Why are you talking to me? Why are you helping me?’ I told her ‘You were passed out on the floor, alone and that’s not right. I can’t solve all your problems but I can treat you like a human being’. She relaxed and I found out her name was Peggy, she was Kenyan, almost 50, had a daughter from whom she’d been separated and that she’d sadly fallen through the cracks in the social care system.

It was a long process getting to the park. I linked arms to stop her stumbling into the road. I wasn’t sure how much of her state was alcohol and how much was exhaustion. At one point we passed two older ladies approaching a local primary school to watch a granddaughter’s school play. Peggy exclaimed how beautiful and well dressed one was. Tina, who was in her 70s didn’t hesitate for a moment, hugged Peggy and told her she was beautiful too. I explained that I’d found Peggy asleep on the floor up the road and we were now taking a walk to the park. Tina hugged me and told me I was an angel and then something very strange happened.

As she let go she told me ‘By the way, I’m psychic. You have something wonderful coming to you, you just have to say yes to it’. And then she was gone, off up the street with the sort of energy I hope I still have at that age. Wait! WHAT?! I had a million questions but that’s a conversation that will never happen. I’m still getting that hair-raising tingle when I think about it. I talk to my version of a higher power often, I call it ‘The Infinite’. I told it that whatever message it had sent me through Tina, I was saying yes. I’ve got zero idea what I’m signing up for but hey, if it’s wonderful then bring it on.

As we arrived at the park a local taxi driver, Tony and his wife Janet were arriving too, with a tent, a flask of hot tea, milk and sugar. Introductions were made and the four of us ended up setting up the tent and talking for another hour. The whole experience was tragic and unnerving but with a strange beauty and authenticity mixed in. Now I know where Peggy’s based I’m planning to drop by next week with some water, fruit and vitamins as she told me she mainly gets given unhealthy stuff and worries about nutrition. So yeah, overall it was a very strange day 9.

It’s day 10 now and although I have a long weekend at work ahead I’m feeling positive and hopeful and will try to stay that way. I hope you all have a good weekend x

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It’s been a while

Sooo, I’m back again. Hi!

It’s been just over a year since I last posted and I’d love to say I’m still sober and everything is peachy but unfortunately that’s not the case. I let the drinking creep back in and I’ve realised I’m treading water again. I’m not in the kind of terrible, dark place I’ve been plenty of times before, it’s more of a tired remembering that I’ve got distracted and wandered off down the wrong path again. I know what I need to do and I know that I can do it but getting started again isn’t easy.

I know without a doubt that life is better when I don’t drink. I did a year and a half sober. Even during the past year I’ve been sober for good chunks here and there. I have managed a fair bit of moderate drinking but, as is too often the case, that doesn’t last. My tolerance has increased again and I’ve racked up some hideous daily units – like 18 (I think) yesterday 😦 Fortunately that’s still pretty rare.

I’m fed up of the on again, off again thing and it’s time for a much needed break.

Not much has changed in general. There have been no major life, health or relationship upheavals for which I’m grateful. I still have my crap job, my lovely cat, my hermit-like social life and my ass is a bit fatter which I also need to deal with. I have started selling my creative stuff online which is a super positive step forwards. So far it’s only a tiny amount of income but it’s growing.

It looks like there’s been a few changes here in blogging land. Some familiar faces are still around – hi! Some have disappeared or moved on, hopefully to awesome new adventures. I have a lot to catch up on.

Have a lovely weekend 🙂

 

 

 

Day 281 – Hi again

I haven’t checked in here for ages now and I just realised I didn’t make a single post in October. I hope folks are doing well and had a good sober October if they were doing that.

I’m still sober and well over nine months now so my absence wasn’t because I’d fallen off the wagon. Instead I’ve been engulfed by a dragging, lurking dark cloud of depression. I don’t know if it’s the change of season or if I’ve hit a burst of PAWS or if it’s just a longer lasting version of the on and off flat state that’s followed me around as long as I can remember.

It’s not severe. Even on my worst days I’m far from suicidal. I’m still working and doing a good impression of a person functioning in society. I just have zero motivation for anything. I’ve withdrawn socially IRL and online; I’m eating junk, sleeping lots (often unplanned and randomly on the sofa), spending whole days on netflix and neglecting my exercise, self care and creative activities.

I know what I need to do to pull out of the nosedive but I have that strange out-of-body point of view where I’m just standing by and watching myself do all the wrong things. It’s odd and frustrating and I recognise it from the many times I’ve watched myself pour glasses of wine even though I didn’t really want to and knew it was a bad idea.

The one silver lining in this very un-pink cloud I’m currently in is that I have absolutely no desire to drink. There has been none of the usual drinking debates in my mind about feeling bad anyway so I might as well drink or that drinking would help. In my more observant moments I can find a surrendered and observing attitude and although I don’t really know what current is dragging me down to this place I definitely knows it’s not due to a lack of alcohol. Alcohol is the last thing I need right now, ugh! Alcohol would just make everything worse. I know that attitude is hard to imagine for some of you in the early stages but I promise you, the shift does eventually happen.

If it gets worse or lasts too long I’ll go see my GP but for now I’m going to wait it out and see what I can learn from it. I’ve already had some shifts in awareness over the last month, mostly around what I can control and do something about and what I can’t and must let go of for my own sanity. I’ve had a lot of anger come up and out too, like a psychological puking. I’m doing a fair bit of reading during this down time too so it’s not all bad. I’ll try to check in here more often. I feel a bit better after writing this.

I hope everybody is doing ok and I’m sorry I haven’t really kept up with your blogs. I’ll try to catch up in the coming days and weeks. Sober hugs and best wishes x

Over 8 months

I passed the 8 month mark a couple of days ago but I can’t remember my day count exactly without checking my phone, which I think is a good thing. I’ve had some time off work and spent some much-needed chillout time and life/home admin tucked away in the house. It’s been an odd week or so which has provided me with quite a few small reminders about why life is better when I’m sober.

We had a sofa delivered at the beginning of the week which has ended up being a bit of a saga. The chaos started with my cat deciding to try to poop out a furball behind the front door, 5 minutes before it arrived. When I found her and she realised she was busted she legged it round the house meowing with the ‘thing’ hanging half out her butt as I ran after her with baby wipes. Yuck!

The delivery guys then arrived and got the sofa stuck in the hallway. They shoved it so hard it sheared off one side of one of the door frames with a massive ‘CRACK’ and a scattering of heavy Victorian-era plaster. I wasn’t happy but these things happen and that’s the reason companies have public liability insurance. I took photos of the damage, emailed the company and I’m now waiting for them to go through their complaints process. Unfortunately the sofa is awful. We unwrapped it and plonked excitedly on it to find it’s rock hard. My kind of sofa will let you sink in and relax. This one felt like I was perched on a horse, sitting upright to attention. It only took a couple of hours for it to make my back ache.

We decided to return it which the company fortunately allows. I had to repack it though. You know when you take something out of its original packaging and then it never fits back in quite right? Try that with a large sofa! They collected it today and I held my breath as they struggled it out through the hallway. Once they’d cleared the front door I let out a sigh of relief, too soon as it turned out because there came a big shattering clunk as they knocked off the top of one of our brick gate pillars. Seriously guys?! To be fair it was probably a bit loose. These houses were built at the turn of the last century and the front walls are getting a bit knackered in places. Even so… it’s two new repair jobs we could do without.

The drinking me would have immersed myself in a spiral of drama with each incident being the ‘justification’ for a drinking session. I was a bit stressed about it but not so much about the material stuff, more the disruption to my routine and the invasion of privacy. I can’t relax when I know strangers are going to come into the house. Now I’m not drinking I can see through the surface stress to a more balanced drama-free perspective.

There’s so much to actually be grateful for in this story if I think clearly about it. Firstly, we’re in a position to be able to afford a new sofa. Secondly, for damage to occur to my home, I need to have one, which I do. I’m grateful that it’s generally safe, warm and happy. Repacking the sofa wasn’t much fun but I’m so grateful that I have the fitness and strength to maneuvre a 43kg sofa on my own (my partner had a crazy work schedule the last couple of days so I dealt with it). I’m grateful that I’m not facing damage from hurricanes, earthquakes or bombs – just some clumsy delivery guys. You get the idea.

None of it is going to matter in a few weeks, never mind the bigger picture. Finally, I’m grateful that I’m sober and can put all this in its proper perspective. It was a small and restrictive mindset that would have manically run with these ‘nice to have’ ‘problems’ in the direction of a drinking binge. What a petty, limiting and negative way to live! I’m so glad that’s not my mindset any more. Life is far from perfect but I have so much to be grateful for.

I still have a couple of nights left of my holiday so I’m planning a seriously chilled and lazy evening. I’ll get into my PJs and sink into our comfy old worn and cracked sofa with a furry blanket, lots of hot tea and a long session of Gotham on netflix. Hell yeah ;D

Have a lovely evening whatever you get up to x

Day 230

I’m doing some long overdue painting in the house at the moment and it’s made me realise how much I’ve changed since the last time I did any around five years ago. I’m a lot fitter and stronger than before. I moved furniture, did preparation stuff, then painted a ceiling and the first coat on all four walls all in one long session. I’m also sober which was odd yesterday because I’ve always strongly equated DIY work (which I don’t particularly enjoy) with earning copious amounts of wine ‘rewards’.

Previously I would have done a few hours and then had the first glass of wine, telling myself I’d carry on working. Once the wine started to take effect I’d at least have the sense to realise I shouldn’t be climbing ladders and handling open paint cans so I’d abandon the job. I’d have sat amidst my part-finished paint job and got sloshed, telling myself I’d ‘earned’ it, that I ‘deserved’ it. This time I got into my PJs and ate the takeaway my partner bought, sat and digested whilst admiring the results for a bit and then went to bed for some much needed sleep. The bliss of crashing into bed thoroughly knackered and feeling satisfied by the day’s achievements was far sweeter than the wine could ever have been. I’m awake again before it’s light, free from a hangover and ready to carry on transforming my nest. Yeah! I’m turning into a person that gets shit done.

I’ve been remarkably free from any cravings for a few weeks now. Even the DIY association yesterday didn’t produce any cravings as such. There was a low background rumble of some sort in my consciousness. The connection had definitely stirred but it felt distant and disconnected and it didn’t form into any recognisable drinking thinking. Instead I just acknowledged it and it seeped away harmlessly, like a fart into the wind.

I’m doing a lot of reading on the subject of addiction at the moment. In the early stages I read a lot of drinking memoirs which gave me those ‘me too!’ moments and helped me to recognise that my own drinking had gone awry. Now I’m feeling more acceptance and stability in my sobriety my attention is turning to wanting to understand more about it. There are so many different models, arguments and theories surrounding addiction. I’m genuinely open and interested in all ideas and much of what I read contradicts what I’ve previously read. Disease, not disease, choice, self-medication, learning disorder, 12-step, not 12-step, neuroscience, neuropsychology, psychology etc. I can’t get enough of the learning. The concepts are slowly taking shape in my mind but I can think of a number of books that warrant a second or even third reading. I feel like my brain is waking up again.

I haven’t been online much in the last few days, I’ll sit down and catch up with blog reading over the weekend (I’m off work yay!) I guess for now I’d better put my painting pants back on and get on with it. Big hugs to anybody who’s struggling in the early days. I know how you’re feeling, keep hanging in there. At one stage I NEVER could have imagined approaching eight months but here I am. If (after what seemed like a million restarts) I can do it then you can do it too x Have a great weekend everybody 🙂

 

 

 

Calmer times

After my recent week of shouty outbursts I’m now pleased to report that I’m feeling much calmer in general. The colleague I swore at has not complained to management and has actually got really super-friendly and jovial with me which was not the outcome I was expecting. It’s good, but weird.

The first bite of autumn was in the air on Thursday morning when I went for an early walk in the woods. There was a gorgeous mix of a bright sunrise, dew and mist making the world look fresh, shiny and sparkling. It was blissful watching my breath in the air and walking into the sunshine.

Better than hiding under the duvet at 7am

Wakey, wakey, rise and shine

Beautiful but freaky for a raging arachnophobe

I’ve got loads queued up in my head to write but I don’t have time right now. Hopefully I’ll get round to some more writing this coming week. Just checking in really, bye for now…

Have an awesome weekend folks. Hugs x

Day 208

I was going to post to mark passing 200 days but didn’t end up getting round to it. I have to rely on my counting app now to know how many days I have, the number has become far less a focus of my consciousness. The whole not drinking thing has become something I think about far less too. That’s probably why I’m not online or posting as much at the moment.

I’m having a strange time with a lot of anger surfacing. I think I’ve always been pretty angry with the world. From the first realisations of my misfit status whilst my age was still in single digits to the plethora of injustices, imbalances and general mess that we currently live in and call society. A lot seems to be driving (and inconsiderate parking) related. I was listening to a Tim Ferriss podcast and got a crazy rush of anger as he described being nearly drowned by a childhood bully holding him underwater. I see crisp packets and coke bottles strewn around in beautiful woodland and fume about the ignorance of it all. These are just a tiny few examples.

So, I’m pretty sure that anger was one of the things I was drinking to ignore. Now I’m not drinking and now I’ve got past the early months of laser-like focus on avoiding drinking, the stuff I’ve avoided for so long is definitely queuing up to say hello.

I can count on half a hand how many times I’ve had aggravated verbal confrontations with somebody in my life. I’m very confrontation avoidant and generally hate it. I have now had two in the previous two weeks, both at work.

During the first one I was very in control. I didn’t swear or say anything unjustifiable. I had injured my hand the previous night after doing at least two extra hours of work than my contract requires. I was told what my tasks were for the current night and worked out that it was at least an hour more than the actual working time I had, yet again – even though I had pointed out I was injured. There are some people that constantly get away with doing less than their contract requires and instead of managing those people and kicking their butts or changing them for people that are prepared to work, the shortfall just gets piled onto people that they know will shut up and get on with it. I know this is a common complaint in workplaces and it’s not just me. I put my foot down and spoke out against it that night. I don’t know what came over me, I had just had enough and I let them know in no uncertain terms. I think I was more surprised than they were.

It actually turned out fine. I was told I made some fair points and that there were plans to change things in the near future. Hmm, I won’t be holding my breath. It was a surprising response though. Even as I was speaking my mind I was also thinking, ‘Oh shit! What am I doing?!’ It’s the first time in four years I’ve done anything like that whilst some colleagues bitch and moan their way through each and every shift. I was basically taken aside and told that I was well-respected and had earned the right to make those points by having a consistently laid-back but hard-working attitude. Phew!

The second outburst wasn’t quite as in control and well-phrased. We have a guy that comes in early morning to pick up stock that we drop on the floor when it has been delivered but there’s no space for it on the shelf. He snides and snarks his way along, constantly moaning about the night shift, life, the universe and anything else he can think of. He’s also not made the connection in his mind that whoever is in the aisle in the morning is also the person that did the work and therefore he’s bitching about them, to them. Normally I just let it go in through one ear, out the other.

The other morning he’d decided he was going to ‘make an example for the senior management team’ of my one mistake among the probably 6-7 HUNDRED boxes I’d handled that night. I’d mistaken one product for another and dropped it when it would have fit on the shelf. It’s so easy to do when you’re tired and rushing. I lost it. My rant began with… ‘Have you got any idea how much fucking work I handled last night?’ Oops! I went on to point out that taking my one genuine mistake and dropping me in the shit and backstabbing about it was petty and wasn’t exactly making for a good workplace. It’s only a week ago there was a bellowing argument across a meeting I was in. My job is beginning to look like some sort of Machiavellian soap opera at the moment. Jeez!! I did end up taking a deep breath and apologising for the manner in which I spoke (but not the content) and that I hadn’t set out to be intentionally rude.

It’s given me a lot to think about though. I felt pretty good after the first example. I would need to borrow a few hands to count how many times in my life I should have stood up for myself but didn’t (and drank away the resulting regrets and resentments). Sometimes things do need to be said, even though it’s scary to do it. I felt pretty shitty after the second example. The adrenaline wouldn’t dissipate and even though I tried to smooth it over at the end he may still make a complaint about me. I was also unhappy about how out of control it felt. I ended up using EFT to dial down the discomfort when I got home.

Handling anger is evidently something I need to work on and was probably an aspect of my development that got stunted by my early drinking to hide from it. I need to get a balance between standing up and constructively saying what needs to be said without becoming a reactive, unleashed rabid loon barking in everybody’s face. I’m going to be more mindful around my reactions at work in the coming weeks. I’ll take a deep, long breath before I react to anything. I don’t want to make these things a regular occurrence.

I’ve been trying to reframe incidents that make me angry and look beyond the immediate event to the probable underlying causes. Instead of getting angry at the other person I’ve been attempting to separate the behaviour from the person. I’ve been wishing people a peaceful resolution to whatever anger or fear is causing them to act out in dangerous, inconsiderate or antisocial ways. I’m also trying to remember that some things are out of my control and to get angry about those things is like drinking poison and hoping somebody else is going to feel it. It’s hard, really hard to do but it’s got to be better in the long run than mumbling and grumbling into a glass (bottle) of red.

I hope you’re all having a good, sober and calm week x

 

 

 

A challenging week

I still have the feeling that I’m experiencing life as if through an amplifier turned up to 11. What is strange is that I think it’s starting to become normalised. Humans do have an uncanny ability to normalise the most remarkable things which is both good and bad. On the negative side we can convert excessive drinking (and the resulting suffering) into our social normal. On a more positive note we can also begin to normalise our experiences of living sober. It doesn’t just apply to substance abuse problems either. When I look back at what I managed to normalise during various jobs, living arrangements and relationships I can’t believe I ever tolerated some of it. I’m sure most of you also have those sorts of memories that you look back on in disbelief with a small shake of your head. I guess what I’m trying to say is that I find it comforting to know that no matter how scared and avoidant of change we are when it does inevitably happen we have far more capacity to adapt and roll with it than many of us give ourselves credit for.

It’s been a strange week in my world. I went to my Auntie’s funeral on Wednesday. I wasn’t close to her, having only seen her maybe twice in the last two decades but I was sad for my uncle and that side of the family. I saw one cousin who I hadn’t seen for probably three decades and probably won’t for the next three, or the next funeral maybe. Another cousin was pleasant and polite but there is no connection whatsoever. The third cousin is the only one I really like and it was nice to see him, the last time being at my mum’s funeral over a decade ago. It made me a bit sad about the distance between us all. As you can tell, we’re not a close family, never have been really. I’ve always really envied warm and close families that love spending time together.

Spending time with family in this way has often been a huge trigger making me want to douse down the awkwardness, sadness and confusion that it brings. As that is not an option now I was left to see and feel it all rather than get that squirrelly, squirmy feeling of ‘OMG! Let me out!! Let the drinking begin…’ In a way this is the easier option. Instead of running in psychological circles until the discomfort headlights well and truly stop me in my tracks I was observing the situation for what it was, right from the beginning.

I also realised this week that my thinking when facing difficult situations has become brutally pragmatic in some ways. I don’t know if I was always like this or if this is a new development within sobriety. When we filed into the chapel for the funeral I couldn’t help wondering about what my dad was thinking. He’s in his 80s now and has openly talked with me about his uncertainty about how many years he has left. His funeral will take place in the same chapel when the time comes. That must have been an odd thought for him. I didn’t say anything though, some things are best left unsaid.

I also realised that sayings such as ‘blood is thicker than water’ are a load of balls. Just because I may have more DNA in common with one person than another it doesn’t mean there will automatically be any sort of bond. I think it’s up to us to choose the people we consider to be our family, or maybe tribe is a more appropriate word? I envy people that can honestly say their family is their true family, that seems like a beautiful thing looking in from the outside. I am also realising that it’s not a disaster or a failure on my part that my family doesn’t work like that. I’m respectfully detaching from the sadness and guilt this has caused me over the years. There’s no way I would have found that perspective with the wine countdown echoing through my skull or once the numbness sloshed its way through my veins.

The funeral was packed and we ended up having to stand at the back of the chapel. My auntie was a retired teacher and was always active socially in the local community. From overheard conversations I realised that some of the mourners were her former pupils. I can’t imagine making that much of a contribution and impression on life that so many people would turn up to my funeral. I realised that if I died I doubt my mourners wouldn’t even fill the front pews. This was also food for many challenging thoughts as you can probably imagine. I think my perspective on mourners for my death will be consistent with my thoughts on friends and ‘family’ during my life – quality not quantity.

Reading this back it does seem like a fairly dark post on the surface but it doesn’t feel that way. Some of these realisations have provided a sort of relief and freedom. What could have been a situation that weighed me down ended up providing an unexpectedly light and positive shift in my perspective. Seeing true reality rather than a distorted and numbed version of it is infinitely better, even though it can be tough in the moment.

Wishing you all a good ending to your week. Best wishes and hugs x

6 months and a week

I was going to post last week to mark 6 months but things ended up getting hectic for various reasons and I didn’t get round to it. Better late than never though.

I was wondering if things would shift and feel different at this landmark and they have, but unfortunately I can’t say it’s all in a good way. At this point my mind is not as focused on not drinking to the exclusion of other thoughts. In a way this is good; I’m feeling more secure in my sobriety and less of my mental energy is required to sustain it. The bad side is that this energy is now freed up to focus on other stuff and the other stuff is often the stuff I was drinking to avoid thinking about in the first place. Damn!

I’m at a stage in my life where I’m beginning to feel comfortable in my skin and in the way I am. I spend many happy hours chilling out at home with my creative work, reading, sofa cuddling with my cat and/or fella and various other simple, sober pursuits. My inner and home landscapes are becoming generally calm. Where it goes wrong is when I leave my solitude and sanctuary and step out the front door.

I’ve always felt like I somehow landed on the wrong planet. Other than the occasional blessed weirdos that I’ve been honoured to find as friends I find little to relate to in what most people (and society in general) seem to consider normal, admirable or fun. And is it me or do so many people seem angry and cranky when they’re out and about? Maybe I’m focusing on the wrong things and tending to see the negative stuff. I know that a bias toward paying attention to threatening or aggressive events is a deeply ingrained survival instinct but it really got to me yesterday.

I got up in the early hours and spent a few hours reading on the sofa with the cat. Then I headed out to the country park for a walk and some berry foraging. This was all pleasant and good. On the way home I went to do some grocery shopping and things went downhill.

On my way into the shop car park I would usually go straight ahead but I noticed that area looked particularly busy and there were some spaces to the left so as a last split-second decision I turned left instead. It was so quick a decision I didn’t have chance to indicate which I admit was my bad. People not indicating is a real peeve for me and I’ve quietly cursed people often enough for not doing it. The one extremely rare time I don’t do it there is of course somebody there that felt the need to bellow abuse at me through our open windows. I guess that’s some sort of annoying karma in action.

I tried to shake that off, did my shopping and headed home. On the way I had a near miss on a roundabout which would have been an action replay of my recent crash. Somebody cut me up trying to overtake from the wrong lane. Luckily (?) it was a real lad-racer type who accelerated so fast he got past in time but I was so fucking pissed off and shaken up. I couldn’t wait to just get home, close the front door of my sanctuary and shut out the world for the rest of the day.

A hand-delivered information sheet from the local police was waiting for me at home. There have been a spate of local burglaries and I was informed that my home is considered at heightened risk of being broken into. FFS! Talk about bad timing 😦 The whole sequence of events just left me feeling a bit raw, overly sensitive, exposed and psychologically slapped around. Without the option to do the crap ‘too drunk to care’ thing I’m feeling some low-level but nagging anxiety creeping in at the moment. I’m breathing and watching, and eating too many doughnuts… it’ll pass.

It wasn’t all bad. I had a pleasant chat about blackberry locations with a man waiting for his sweet granddaughter who felt the need to pick up every stray branch she passed. There were friendly smiles and hellos from other walkers (and their dogs). There was sunshine and refreshing breezes. There were abundant blackberries and elderberries to pick. There was the meditative task of stripping elderberries from the branches while sitting in the garden. I know there is a lot of good in the world too, it’s just sometimes hard to notice the quieter whisper amid the noise, stress and chaos.

So, my 6 months post turned out not to be overly celebratory but I guess it’s just where I’m at for the moment. Wishing everybody a lovely sober and un-stressful weekend whatever you get up to x

Approaching six months

I’m still doing ok here as I approach the six months mark although I had the most intense craving I’ve had for a while pop up last week after a stressful visit to the vet. My usually mellow cat turns into a yowling four-legged freak-out on vet day so it’s hard work. While we were in the waiting room a tiny, cute puppy went in to have a microchip fitted and its screeching yelps of pain could probably have been heard from the car park. The poor thing was shaking like a leaf when it came out. Distressed animals stress me out too. In the car on the way home I said to my partner, ‘I could really handle a glass (bottle) of wine right now.’ He looked shocked and told me not to say that. I wasn’t going to do it, I knew that, but it’s obviously still an association I haven’t broken.

I’ve been thinking a lot about work matters recently. I’m still experimenting with my commercially-aimed illustration work but I’m beginning to suspect that making a success of that still won’t provide enough meaning, purpose and fulfilment in the long term. Earning an income that way would of course be an improvement on my current job. I could work from home, do fun, creative stuff, not commute, not have to be polite to customers who are being assholes etc. It’s still a goal but I also have some other ideas about what that could be combined with in the future…

I’ve been considering training as a counsellor for a while now. I keep looking at the courses, pondering and then filing it away in the back of my mind. It’s a long process which would take a few years and a few thousand pounds but I’m fortunate that I could afford to pay for it slowly over that time. It’s general counsellor training but there would be an option to specialise in addiction counselling later on. Maybe if that were combined with qualifications in mindfulness-based stress reduction, CBT and other such things I could become somebody who helps people to find their way out of addiction? It’s an exciting thought, scary too. I can see meaning and purpose down that route but I don’t know if I’m the right person to be doing it.

A few weeks ago I wrote that poem called ‘Why not today?’ Maybe it’s time to stop putting this on the back burner? I’m going to fill in the college application form this week and get the process started. The course doesn’t start until January 2018 when I will hopefully be hitting one year sober. I love the thought of studying again too. I loved my student days the first time round and I loved the atmosphere back when I did some tertiary college lecturing too. Yayy!! It’s exciting 🙂

I worked last night so now I’m nicely tired and ready for bed soon. Sober hugs and strength to all 🙂 x