And breathe…

Wow. Today was really tough. I’m not sure what to write, or how to start because it isn’t like some rock bottom moment and then triumphant win.. But the want to drink today was SO strong. Okay, I’ve had that before. But the voices in my head thinking ‘well maybe…’ haven’t been like this for a LONG TIME. (though who knows what that really means.. my sense of time is so skewed… but feels like it)

And then I reached out to people. Not the usual two I normally would but a few others, and was blunt ‘I really miss drinking today’ and then I got mad at myself – wtf am I doing messaging these people things like this. I felt stupid, ashamed, mad at myself. But, little messages came back ‘hey, here if you need me,  What’s up, want to talk? You got this! You’re strong. Etc. Super lovely things. And I came up with this little analogy.

That right now, in life.. I feel okay, walking along, not bouncing, not dragging.. but okay.. then suddenly I fall into a really dark hole. No idea it was there, or why. And I want to climb out alone, because I’ve been around long enough and I’m strong enough to climb out… but then sometimes I shout out to people, ‘help! FUCK HELP!’ and then I get mad at myself because I’m thinking ‘dude you got this. It’s not that big, why you shaming yourself!?’  But really that’s silly. It’s okay to shout out and get a hand up, some words of encouragement. And today I kinda scared myself, and that’s why I guess I did shout. In a sense at no one in particular – I guess not the usual ones because perhaps part of me thought the others might not reply, or be like ‘it’s cool, have a drink.’

But, I didn’t, and I no longer want one. After work (which was pretty crazy today) I went for a short run, then I went to a local gig, and I don’t think I wanted to drink. My eye is fucked though. Bouncing away, twisting. I videoed my eye on the way home because I was so sure you could see it moving.. but, thankfully, you can’t. Just me. I really hope it goes with some sleep, cause it hasn’t been this bad for a years. I wouldn’t be surprised if it’s linked to all the emotional stuff going on at the moment. My family cat died this week. Not the one I left in London, but a much older one my brother took with him. I spoke to my niece, she was crying down the hone to me saying the saddest things. And my brother. Oh my poor brother. He was his companion of 14 years and it breaks my heart to think of his sadness, and how I can’t do anything, and how far away I am. I’m supposed to be away next week.. actually, I will be away next week – but there is a bad storm warning which might change all my plans.. to being sat in a bnb in a ferry port, and today I was so scared of that… thinking how would I stop myself from drinking, because I would get depressed. I’m still a little scared.. but also a little more optimistic that I can maybe just sleep and read and hope for the best that I Will be able to get to the island..

This may not make any sense, but I just needed to update, even myself. To recognise it’s okay. I don’t feel great. But that’s okay – I can keep walking again.. but I was a little scared. I used to be a high functioning drunk, and now I worry if I just have one night, that will lead to two nights.. everything will fall apart.

I need to catch up on everyone’s posts – I can see a few, but right now I must sleep. xxx

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I really want to get drunk

It’s all in the title really.

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Stuff is good. In fact, so much good stuff. But I can’t run from still being an addict. At its most simple it just pisses me off. That 2 plus years (I don’t even know!) my instant reaction to feelings and situations is drink. I found something out that brought up old emotions. It’s ok, it will pass, but it’s making me want to drink drink drink. Not even in a conscious ‘oh man I want a drink..’ but I feel it. I feel the crave, the urge, literally pulsing through my veins and I feel unsettled and then I realise what it is!

And I bring myself back by going through the reality of drinking and that by having a drink I will not suddenly relieve a fun time I once had drunk. Ot that it will boy make the feelings go away. Ha. But it’s just so damn annoying that the craving is there.

Ho hum!!!

edit – tho the above was just a little offload.. since then (all 25 mins) I’ve felt comfort in knowing that this pain, this sadness, sense of loss or regret… it is mine.. that I can understand, that I can handle, that I can hold and put away again in time. I won’t make it into anything it is not because of booze. I know it’s real, and it hurts, but I can handle it now. And it’s okay to hold it for a while and shed a few tears. X

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Scared to be lonely

Such a simple phrase. But. But what. It’s truth. I can be alone, independent. But I’m scared to always be alone. And I can’t see life being any different. And that scares me. I’m tired of being so independent. I’d like a hug. Or someone to hold my hand. Give me a kiss. Ho hum. And I can handle not having that for now.. ha.. single for 5 years, probably more. I lose count. But forever. And it makes me want to drink. It’s funny how much it makes me personify drink and highlights how much it was my best buddy, my companion through the good and the bad, my crutch. My love, my boyfriend, my secret love. Always there. Always. It’s this that makes me know I didn’t just drink too much, but an addict through and through. I miss it so much right now. It’s done. It’s over. But I feel the loss deeply right now. And just me to prop me up. But I chose to end the relationship. And I stand by that choice. I just miss it sometimes. That’s all.

(Note – I’m under no pretence people in relationships don’t get lonely – at some times more so if you’re unhappy…)

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£140 therapy session: 3 seconds.

So, since I got back from my ‘other home’ (where my parents live) a couple of weeks ago I’ve been full of pent up emotions. Before leaving London I joked to my best friend that I felt sorry for the person next to me on the plane, envisaging me balling my eyes out. Then more seriously I said to her, I hope I do just break down and cry, because I knew if I didn’t, I’d just continue on with all these built up emotions, just blocking me up. I didn’t cry. I slept a lot. I felt so sad, but I didn’t cry. I never really used to cry aside from when I was drunk (okay, so the last few years that was most nights… but it’s so different..)

I’ve spent the last two weeks feeling intensely sad at points, hurting physically at the thought of not seeing my Mum for 4 months. Trying to work out finances and expectations and hours between my two jobs. Trying to actively lose weight, but not open up the doors to self loathing or criticism. I almost broke down a week ago. At a Muay Thai class. I was so exhausted, and the class was going well, but at the end I just couldn’t muster up any more mental or physical energy. I was trying so hard and felt like such a big lump. I’m pretty fit. I care about what I put into my body. I exercise a lot. I always take the stairs. I walk as much as I can. But even since I decided to get healthier, I put on weight. The ONE time in my life I was a size where I didn’t feel like ‘the fat one’, or ‘the best friend’ was when most of my calorie intake was booze. But since then I’ve sworn to myself to treat myself better. And I have, but my god, was not being ‘the big one’ amazing. I see woman much bigger than me and I think they are utterly sexy and gorgeous. And ‘gorgeous’ woman much smaller than me and wish they’d put on weight (including some friends) because I don’t think they look very well. So, it’s not that I have this perfect ideal. But when it comes to running, to jumping, to being more physically lean and agile – I feel…

Actually I didn’t mean this to be a speil about weight. And boring myself. And kinda happy with that. Because deep down, or not even so deep down I cherish how I am now. And I wouldn’t give this up to be lighter…. But it was all these thoughts that made me holding back tears. Trying so damn hard and ‘failing.’ Actually, the only thing I really had failed at was holding back tears, but I think I got away with it and only let a few out. I was hoping I’d get home and cry all those tears that needed to be cried. But no, the walls had come back up, and that uncomfortable sea of emotions insides stayed put.

Everything is good. The job situation, though stressful in terms of working out what and when, is pretty damn excellent. I am working somewhere I NEVER thought possible. 16 year old me remembers day dreaming about doing a job like this. And it’s happened. I FUCKING MADE IT HAPPEN! I’m writing. I mean, like writing, and people are saying they like my writing. And I’m making new friends. And I have such a beautiful family, and such wonderful friends. Damn – at Easter I’m meeting 2 friends from Europe and 1 from Asia to all go on a yoga retreat together. I mean WOW! How damn good is life!! But I can’t shake this sea of unsettledness. URGH! I know I can’t force that seed of contentment, but for fucks sake, how much good shit needs to happen for it to appear?! What more do I want from, and for myself? I started questioning if I’m going down a path I don’t want to be, but just think I do.. and that’s why I’m not feeling happy or excited about all these things. I wanted this move to bring me more freedom and laughter, as I’ve said before.. a lighter life. But I feel weighed down.

And that brings me to yesterday morning. I woke up to a sad text from a friend about the death of Dolores O’Riordan. Not only did I think she was an incredible, powerful, dynamic, inspirational woman, frontwoman, social commentator.. The Cranberries have been a soundtrack to my life. So, thinking of all their songs, and then playing them whilst working out, brought a FLOOD of emotions and memories. I then… put my 6kg weight on my bed. I usually do this very carefully. I did not yesterday. It bounced off and smashed right into my bedside floor light (I know.. why the fuck do I have one of those in a tiny studio flat!? NOT my choice!) It shattered loudly and instantly. I started sobbing uncontrollably. Wondering why the fuck I moved. I wanted to just be with my parents. What was I doing? I’m trying so hard to save and keep everything together and I feel like some fucking fraud. Why do I fucking bother? and the tears kept rolling. It did not feel good. I had a really important meeting at new job and my face was puffy and I called my Mum from the Underground and started crying again..

But I made it through the day. In fact, it was a really good day. I gave myself a pep talk and gave my best self to my new colleagues. The costs of fixing the stupid floor bed light are £140. Not the £500 I though it might be.. (just thought the worst obviously.) It’s still a lot to fix something I never wanted, and is stupidly unnecessary, but something changed when I smashed that glass. I don’t feel fabulous. I don’t feel content even. But something shifted. And I feel more positive. I can see the clouds opening a little. I hope they continue to open, I’m a little scared they won’t.. but I have faith that to get what you want in life there is a lot of hard work, uncertaintity, and a lot of effort, planning and emotion. And I hope, after all I’ve put in, I can sit back and enjoy it a little soon.. of course me sitting back and enjoying it means FUCKING GOING FOR IT but not having to do interviews, wait for contracts, have awkward conversations with employers. I lost my appetite in London. I have it back, but it’s different. I don’t feel obsessive. I can go to the supermarket and not overbuy. I can think about what to have for dinner on the way home, not plan for the whole week (in a food obsessed way, rather than for some real, positive reason.)

So, that’s me right now. I met a guy on Bumble. He seemed pretty cool at first, but then his chat? Kept asking me questions.. to which I’d respond, then no acknowledgement of my answers and another question.. pissed me off. I’m a conversationalist. I like to know about people and I like people to listen to what I say! So, I declined his offer for coffee in favour of a long walk with a new friend. Right choice. I sent a nice message

Oh.  So, this made me laugh a lot… in my frazzled state yesterday I cleaned up the glass mess on the floor. But most of the glass was actually in the area/rectangle box that the strip lights are in. My plan, to keep myself safe, and not step on the glass when I got out of bed was to tape cardboard over the wooden box and glass. PERFECT. I’M SO SMART.

When the handyman came round to measure up the glass needed he said ‘be really careful cleaning this up. You have gloves right?’ And it dawned on me. LIKE EVERY OTHER TIME I HAVE EVER BROKEN ANYTHING EVER I NEEDED TO CLEAN UP THE GLASS AND NOT LEAVE IT AND COVER IT WITH CARDBOARD?! I managed to stay cool and be like ‘yeh of course’ and then when he left, had a giggle fit. Just imagining all the times I’ve broken a glass; ‘fuck it, not cleaning it up, just going to tape cardboard over it to keep my feet safe.’ Hahahahahaha

So, I feel mad at myself about breaking the glass. £140. When I count every cent. When I go to three supermarkets to check out I buy the cheapest Weetabix. This is how I save and manage to travel. But part of me is like, it had to happen. So, that’s my 3 second costly therapy session.


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Pretty much all the time I’m content with the path I’ve chosen, even when I feel low, angry, floored by life… I still can see the bigger picture, and all that being sober has allowed me to do. But I still miss moments. I miss moments, short pockets of memories, circumstances, that I probably won’t have again sober. I miss the slightly drunken flirting. Hugely. It’s been a long time since I kissed someone, and longer since I slept with someone. My friends, may I massively emphasis, in long term relationships say, ‘well it’s better to be alone than..’ (you know how that sentence ends…) or ‘but you’re so independent and happy doing your own thing..’ But I get so lonely. I don’t want to die alone. I don’t want to be 50 and still not have slept with anyone else. I just get on, because what else can you do. But here I’m not talking about that. I’ve talked about that before. Those fun moments. Those crazy moments. That after, they may bring mental shit, confusion, or hurt, but in that moment – it’s laughter, flirting, perhaps kissing, perhaps more. But fuck, I miss that. This was sparked by seeing pictures of a guy I had a thing with years ago. The result of it was the most abusive, repulsive texts from my ex (we are all in the same music ‘scene’ which resulting in me blocking his number) and actually it’s good for me, that ‘us’ was stopped because of that. But those few nights together, just living right in that moment, was amazing. You know in a good one night stand, when you know nothing more will happen, but for that night, you both act like its something more, because at that time, you are enjoying each other, each others company. It’s not fake, but just purely present living. These thoughts opened the floodgate of memories to other nights, instances, with laughter and flirting. And its so bittersweet. I love that they happened. It makes me feel that perhaps once I could feel attractive, sexual.. damn, just even flirt again! But then the crushing sadness, that me, sober, vegan, GIANT compared to the woman here, will just have to keep the iron barriers up and the strong independent mindset for the foreseeable future. Because there is no one to make me a cup of tea. To give me a squeeze in bed. To kiss the back of my neck. To just hold my hand. And even those thoughts more often that not quickly deteriorate into remembering the pain, fear, anxiety, sadness of my last proper relationship.

It’s not enough to make me drink. Though the cravings are there. And perhaps this sounds self pitying.. I’m just musing.. getting my thoughts out. I haven’t been writing enough here, or in my paper diary. This probably should have been one for that. But here it is instead.

Comparing myself to the IG’s of people I know, or friends of friends here. Urgh. Huge groups of slim, smiling people. It scares me. Like I should be part of that, but I can’t be. I know how to be alone. I don’t know how to function in large groups like that. I don’t think I even want to be in ‘those’ groups… but I haven’t really found any like minded people here.. I hope it will come in time. I am trying. And if it doesn’t.. I’m still enjoying my own company. My explorations. I just miss companionship so much. I miss having a group of friends. I didn’t when I left London, so it’s not a recent thing. I feel self pitying here, which, just now, turned into self-loathing and could hear some faint taunting in the back of my mind.  So, maybe it’s time to sign off and sleep.

Believe 😉

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Reading through everyone’s Xmas and NYE updates I thought I should write my own (again… I did it directly on the app and lost it!)

Anyway.. so Christmas. I went back to London and saw all my family. Overall it was wonderful but man did my codependency (wanting everyone to be happy/making sure I had enough quality time with everyone/making sure everyone had what they wanted) was off the scale meaning I felt anxious and unsettled almost all the time! I drank a lot of non alcoholic beer, wine and prosecco. Haha, by a lot I mean a bottle of each of the latter and about 6 n-a beers. (over 10 days.. I probably used to have more than that in Xmas day drunk!!!) I lost my appetite (as any of you that read my blog know I stress eat.. so when I lose my appetite something is really not good/feel super sad…)

So much confusion over being home but coming from home (to the point I couldn’t work out where I was/where my cat was… fuzzy brain)… a good friend really upset me, but other friends made an effort to see me despite it being hectic holiday season and it was really great. But all in all, I don’t think all that differs that much from everyone’s Xmas’s. A lot of joy and a lot of ahhhhhhg!! For a few nights I slept with 3 kids in my room. Was actually wonderful waking up to them all bleary eyed and having random morning chat.

I worry so much as my parents get older and they had a lot of bad news this Xmas, and I saw them trying to mask their pain – my brothers generally can’t pick up on that where as I overly do!

I probably lost weight this Xmas and made me think how every year I generally did. Most people ate and drank more. I drank more and ate less. And I loved it. Able to booze ALL the time without it being weird AND lose weight?! Hell yeh! :/

NYE – my family (aside from my parents) left that day – and my emotions and thoughts were all over the place. I had no appetite but REALLY wanted to order a vegan pizza! So, had a lightbulb moment to go for a run and then pick up pizza on the way back – hoping it would have got rid of some nervous energy and made room for food!!! It did. For me, this year, it was the perfect new year. The actual countdown was with my parents on the couch, in my trackies.

After two flights on the bus home. Nervous. A lot of pent up emotions. Sadness at not knowing when I’ll next see my family – fear, of loneliness here, of starting my new job, and just the confusion of life – and what I’m doing. The conflict of it being so strange and so normal where I live now. Being back in London, I loved it, but didn’t get the sense of belonging and home that is so innate when I’m here.

A bit of a dull post. The one that didn’t post was much better.. I think I was crying on the stairs wanting to drink. Oh fuck! I did! I accidentally had a sip of someone’s prosecco as they’d picked up mine by mistake!!!

So what did I do? I necked some non alcoholic prosecco to mask the taste of the real one! Ha ha. I feel like it should be some big monumental thing that I did that. I know some in AA would say it resets my sobriety date but for me, it’s just a thing that happened. And actually freaked me out because I did just want to get drunk, but happy with myself how I handled it. I literally ran to the non alcoholic bottle, I think not to even allow myself time to taste/savour the moment! And it worked.

So, here’s to a fucking fabulous 2018. I’m going to make it so.

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