Hope

The therapist is perfect.  She is everything I could have hoped for and then some. 

The hour flew by.  Felt more like ten minutes. 

I told all of the ugly truth. 

And she validated my feelings.  But neither of us excused my behavior. 

I said things out loud for the first time today.  Not about my drinking...that's almost the easier thing to say.  No, I've never been abused or anything like that.  For me the hardest things are every day, real life things....things that I imagine lots of other people don't even think about.

So, she gave me a little bit of advice to get started, and I go back on Dec. 1st and then after that, weekly. 

She told me to give myself some credit for acknowledging the problem NOW and not years from now.  And she really understood about the weight loss surgery playing a part in this.  And she made me feel like there is hope.  For the first time in a long time, I feel like there really is hope. 

Thank you all so much for your kind words of encouragement.  It means a lot.  I don't always know how to respond to...but I appreciate knowing that you care and that you are cheering for me. 

Anticipation

Tomorrow, unless she cancels or my boss won't allow me to leave work...I will FINALLY have my first session with the new therapist. 

I expect to cry.  A lot.   Yes, even at a first session.

I have a terrible time discussing my issues without crying. 

Always have, probably always will.

Baffled

I left my house this afternoon with every intention of buying myself some sort of alcohol.  I planned to buy it and either sneak it in, or leave it in my car for a sneak-in later in the night.  Don't ask me why...I've been doing pretty good...but I for some reason I was convinced that tonight I would need a drink or two and I was bound and determined to make it happen.  (Much like making sure there was Ben and Jerry's in the house before I had my surgery). 

I ran a couple of errands and drove past two liquor stores.  I didn't stop in either one. 

Then I decided maybe I'd drive up to Jo-Ann Fabrics and buy some yarn for a scarf I'm supposed to knit for Sinead.  On the way, I passed another liquor store and made a mental note that I'd be able to stop at that one on my way home.  I kept volleying around what I would buy and how much of it.  How I'd bring it home, hide it in my desk and then late tonight when everyone else was in bed I'd FINALLY get to enjoy a couple of drinks. 

Made it to Jo-Ann's and found some yarn that I knew Sinead would like.  Headed back the way I had come...got into the lane where I could turn into the plaza where the liquor store was.....

And I made a last second decision not to do it. 

I reasoned with myself that if I didn't give in TODAY, I could always give in tomorrow if I needed to.  But TODAY I could make it through without a drink. 

I honestly didn't know that I would make that choice until I made it.  I absolutely believed I was going into that store and bringing something out.  

I'm still surprised. 

Dude, Where's My Mellow?

Better today.  Still a little down and out...but not as bad as yesterday.  Realized today that it's "that time of the month" which probably explains a lot. 

So much on my mind.  Things I don't like to think about.  Big things.  Things that scare me.   Things that I don't know how to deal with. 

Is this a "mid-life" crisis? 

Pity Party

I'm sitting here bored out of my mind.  And I have no desire to do anything to make myself not bored.  And this is a big part of why I drink.  Because there's nothing else I WANT to do.  Seriously.  I don't want to watch tv or movies.  I don't want to be on the stupid internet.  I don't want to clean my house.  I don't want to take a bath or read a book or eat something.  I just want to escape my life.  Because I am bored and unhappy.   I realize that drinking won't make anything better...it will only make things worse.  And I'm not drinking.  But boy, do I wish I could.  I guess I should be happy that I'm not drinking.  Instead I feel like crying.  Maybe I'll go lay down and have a good cry.  Over nothing.  And everything. 

Friday Fill-Ins & Good News

Guess what happens when you don't drink two whole boxes of wine in a week?  You LOSE WEIGHT!  I lost four pounds this week.  Four pounds.  I knew that I consuming a ridiculous amount of empty calories when I drank, but I didn't think I'd drop that much weight in a week.  Damn.  I even felt like I ate a lot this past week (I ate a lot of carbs, thats for sure) but I guess cutting out the booze really made a difference.

I've been sick as a dog for most of the week, but today I finally feel a little bit better.  I even made it to work for most of the day. 

I've fallen off the Fill-In wagon for awhile now.  Time to get back with it:


1. We need a valid & well organized third party.
2. I successfully made a fire in the wood stove today and it made me smile.
3. If you want something, you have to either ask for it or go out and take it.
4. I think I drink because I'm unhappy & don't know how to face it.
5. Massachusetts has a proposed 5% sales tax on elective cosmetic surgery; I think it should be 25%.
6. Peace and quiet and no stress makes for a happy holiday.
7. And as for the weekend, tonight I'm looking forward to resting some more, tomorrow my plans include teaching my M0m how to cr0chet and Sunday, I want to feel 100 percent better than I do today!

Delayed

My cold has turned into something more sinister and I am home sick today. I called the therapist and rescheduled to next Tuesday. I swear I am not avoiding this....I am actually very disappointed that I can't go.

Declan's truck is currently in the shop and he's got my car, meaning I have no wheels anyway. Yesterday I had to catch a ride to work with an office mate, and today I would have had to do it again were I not carrying the plague. The truck was supposed to be fixed by ten this morning, so I was going to get a ride over and pick it up so that I could go to my appointment, but since I'm sick as a dog it's best that I just stay here in my warm, dark house.

I'm the third female in this family to have spent sick time here in the last three weeks. Started with Sinead, who missed a FULL week of school, spread to Siobhan who only missed three days (because she had a weekend too) and now it's on to me. I probably should have stayed home yesterday, but I didn't. Hopefully I'll get back tomorrow, because when I don't work, I don't get paid...and we CANNOT afford that.

Off to hold my head over a steam in hopes that the forty-seven pounds of pressure in my face will abate.