A Near Miss....
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| Parts of my Recovery Toolkit |
Day 16: It's Sunday. It's another gorgeous day, and not as hot. I hop on my bike in the AM and pedal for an hour. It feels good. I stop for an iced coffee. I do not get winded because there is no residue cigarette smoke in my lungs. I put up my fall decorations. I read in the afternoon and take another nap. I go to bed early.
Day 17: It's a rainy Monday. I'm annoyed. And I make some dumb mistakes, like scheduling a meeting at a coffee shop only to arrive and discover it's closed on Mondays, or nearly rear-ending a parked car as I pull out of my parking space. But it's OK, because I know it's just "one of those days" that we all have, and it's NOT because I'm dealing with after effects of a hangover, which means I don't feel guilty or ashamed, and I know tomorrow really will be different. I blog. I treat myself to a brownie that evening, even though it puts me over my Weight Watchers points for the day. Because I can, and it won't make me feel fat or bloated, because it's not alcohol or the binge eating that sometimes accompanies it.
Day 18: Getting ready for work, I notice that my clothes are fitting better. Including my bra and underwear. I feel like my face has thinned a bit, at least to me. I go live with the blog.
Day 21: Well damn if an intense craving does not hit me as I leave for work. It's sunny. It's warm. It's perfect patio weather.... I can feel the pricks of panic. And I am no more in the zone that feels good. I can feel myself entering more of a frenzy. The cognitive dissonance kicks in. A strong desire to stick to my pledge and remain sober competes with a growing desire to have "just one glass." It's a mind and body at war with itself. Now, I had already planned out what I was going to do this Thursday evening: pick up the library book on blogging, do some sort of exercise, and make a healthy dinner. I text my girlfriend that I'm feeling a craving; she responds that I can stay strong. I call my boyfriend (as we had discussed if I felt a craving) as I continue to make my way to the library. I don't tell him about the craving though. I don't know why: maybe I am feeling guilty? Maybe I am providing myself cover in case I do slip... I spend a bit longer at the library than I intended. And sure enough, the craving begins to subside, just a little. Still, I make sure my route home does not go by one of my fave wine spots. As I turn the key in the lock of my front door, my whole body relaxes. I have made it. I am out of the danger zone. I realize in the end, it was about 25 minutes of some pretty intense stress, and I can handle it. And even though it really sucked to concentrate on the stress of wanting to and NOT wanting to give in, I realize that engaging in the thoughts, and making the hard choice to just make it home to regroup, works. At other times when I was trying to maintain sobriety, I'd reach this point and immediately just go to auto-pilot. I'd turn off my mind and head to the bar, because I just couldn't stand that inner noise. This time, I did not turn off that inner clamor, I was right there in it. When I make it home, I tweak my plans a bit. I do yoga instead of cardio because I need to bring my energy level down, not up. I treat myself to a frozen pizza because damn, that was a close call and this is how I will celebrate that small win. I know that because I resisted this time, that the next time a craving hits-- because it will hit again, until my subconscious has healed--I will not experience that same sense of panic. And I am grateful for that.
By the end of Week Three: I'm just grateful. It's the end of Week Three. And I am still sober.
Day 21: Well damn if an intense craving does not hit me as I leave for work. It's sunny. It's warm. It's perfect patio weather.... I can feel the pricks of panic. And I am no more in the zone that feels good. I can feel myself entering more of a frenzy. The cognitive dissonance kicks in. A strong desire to stick to my pledge and remain sober competes with a growing desire to have "just one glass." It's a mind and body at war with itself. Now, I had already planned out what I was going to do this Thursday evening: pick up the library book on blogging, do some sort of exercise, and make a healthy dinner. I text my girlfriend that I'm feeling a craving; she responds that I can stay strong. I call my boyfriend (as we had discussed if I felt a craving) as I continue to make my way to the library. I don't tell him about the craving though. I don't know why: maybe I am feeling guilty? Maybe I am providing myself cover in case I do slip... I spend a bit longer at the library than I intended. And sure enough, the craving begins to subside, just a little. Still, I make sure my route home does not go by one of my fave wine spots. As I turn the key in the lock of my front door, my whole body relaxes. I have made it. I am out of the danger zone. I realize in the end, it was about 25 minutes of some pretty intense stress, and I can handle it. And even though it really sucked to concentrate on the stress of wanting to and NOT wanting to give in, I realize that engaging in the thoughts, and making the hard choice to just make it home to regroup, works. At other times when I was trying to maintain sobriety, I'd reach this point and immediately just go to auto-pilot. I'd turn off my mind and head to the bar, because I just couldn't stand that inner noise. This time, I did not turn off that inner clamor, I was right there in it. When I make it home, I tweak my plans a bit. I do yoga instead of cardio because I need to bring my energy level down, not up. I treat myself to a frozen pizza because damn, that was a close call and this is how I will celebrate that small win. I know that because I resisted this time, that the next time a craving hits-- because it will hit again, until my subconscious has healed--I will not experience that same sense of panic. And I am grateful for that.
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