Sobruary: When Everything Came To A Screeching Halt

Sobruary: I really want to take the time to publicly reflect upon this experience, and to share my motivation, my struggles, and my triumphs.

It was some time in December when I suspected I had an unhealthy relationship with alcohol. My suspicions were clearly confirmed when I asked my  bestie. Bless her and her honesty, she said “You’re not a problem drinker”. She went on to clarify “You’re a solution drinker. You have a problem, you drink.  Life shits on you, you drink”.

I mulled it over. And then I asked for a second opinion.

JerkGuy, nearly verbatim, expressed the same concern.

Surely two people who aren’t in cahoots can’t be totally off the mark. So I thought about it. I thought about how I dealt with issues that arose, about my self care practices, and about my coping mechanisms. It was a high five. To my face. With a chair, when I realized it was booze, booze, more booze. Imbibing was my escape. I was a 29 year old, full time student, mother of two young kids. Time to wake the fuck up.

Christmas was coming up. As was my 30th birthday, so I knew better than to make any commitments immediately. I schemed about how I was going to tackle sobriety. I assessed my own values, my goals, and I prioritized them. I decided that February 1, 2014, would be The Day, and for 28 days, I would be sober, responsible and still totally awesome.

Christmas came, and then it went. I celebrated my 30th birthday on the downlow. Then mid-January, bestie and I, alongside 40 of our nearest and dearest, invaded one of our haunts dressed like a fucking zoo. 

And we drank. And we ate. And we danced. And dear Lord, did we ever piss everyone lee in that bar off. HOW FUCKING DARE WE celebrate in public looking like a furry convention?!

But we did. And we had a blast.

And that was the last time I had a drop to drink. January 18, 2014. I set my start date for February 1, but honesty, I was ready to slow down. My hurtling, four month skid-out on my face over my life, my heartbreak, and my complete inability to moderate my own behaviour left me exhausted. I was ready. It was time.

So, like Lent, I gave up alcohol. I gave up being intoxicated period. I gave up my tranquillizers. I gave up my benzodiazepines.

I gave up motherfucking Diet Pepsi.

And it was easy. Except for the Diet Pepsi. That shit was hard and I will still cut you for one. Six weeks later, and I still dream of Diet Pepsi. I have thrown legitimate temper tantrums over Diet Pepsi. About five days in, JerkGuy was over. I was upstairs and he had gone downstairs to grab a glass of water, and I heard the distinct sound, that crisp “PSSSHHHHT” of a bottle opening, though two storeys of plaster walls.

“ARE YOU DRINKING A DIET PEPS?!”, my voice thick with unadulterated rage.

…..silence…..

A small voice replied “…..No…..”

JerkGuy came back upstairs looking tentative. Almost fearful. I repressed the extreme desire to rip off each of his digits and cram them in various orifices. I really wanted that fucking Pepsi. I later poured it down the sink. If I can’t have it? NOBODY CAN.

So, I had committed to cutting out all the harmful things. So what did that leave me to do? Laze about, watching my stories and eating bonbons? Nah. I’m far too type-A to do absolutely nothing with myself. So I redirected my party rocking energy into the gym. And let me tell you, It’s done me good. Actually never mind telling, I’ll just show you.

On the left, you’ll see me power pounding a schooner of cheap champagne. Wow. So sexy. On the right, you’ll see that I’ve slimmed down enormously, and quite frankly- a sexy beast.

So what did I learn? I’ve learned healthier ways to deal with my emotions- the sads, the angries, the happies. I’m channeling my energy in a more productive manner, and the more progress I make, the more motivated I get. I’m like a human perpetual motion machine. I’m doing well. I accepted graciously the constructive criticisms of people who care about me, and I’m working to better myself. And that? is a fucking accomplishment I am proud of.