Why I stopped drinking.

I was lying on the floor in the living room, listening to “Yer Blues” by The Beatles for the sixth or seventh time in a row. Although, I don’t exactly remember too many details. Only how the carpet felt on the side of my face, how the glass bottle felt on my hand and how my boobs hurt from lying face down for so long. I finally managed to sit upright, but carefully enough so that I did not spill Jack Daniel’s everywhere. I looked at the clock and when my eyes finally focused, I saw the numbers. It was an hour before my final exam. 

In my memory, I quickly closed the lid on my bottle and jumped upright to get ready. If anyone was watching me, they would have seen someone fucking obliterated, attempting to close up … something? 

The eagle picks my eye
The worm he licks my bone
I feel so sucidal
Just like Dylan’s Mr. Jones

When I finally got ready, I clamored into my car and attempted to drive to school so I could take my exam. On the way there, I drove up a kerb so bad that I scratched the front of my car. But I managed to park ok. And find my exam room. I received my exam paper just fine, could pick up a pen. But shit, what was my lecturer’s name again? 

By the third time I went to the bathroom, the supervisor followed me because she thought I was cheating. I told her I was nervous and just needed to pee a lot. I don’t know why I was hiding the fact that I had spent all morning drinking as she could probably smell it on me. 

I left my exam about an hour early and sat outside for the remainder. I felt like it was something I should do before I got back into my car. Somehow, reason was returning to my brain but I did not feel ashamed or felt that I had a problem. 

This event sticks out in my mind as one of the contributing factors as to why I no longer drink. I am ashamed of my behaviour, but I am more thankful that I did not harm anyone physically when I decided to get into a car and drive the 25 minutes to my school, loaded on Jack Daniel’s. The only person that has to suffer the consequences is myself. 

I am not unique when I say that I have issues, don’t we all. I just chose to numb those issues with alcohol. If I found myself in social situations, I would drink until I became the fun person everyone wanted me to be, or at least I thought everyone wanted me to be. I’d drink until I could no longer stand up or get asked to leave. People would buy me drinks so I could be “Fun Jess”, because being myself was probably too real. 

Alcohol is not a good mix if you are a socially anxious person, which I am. I’m always concerned if I’m being too raw, too wrong, not ladylike enough, pronouncing words incorrectly, or talking about WWII again. When I see other people getting completely obliterated, I project. I think that person has no respect for themselves or they’re dealing with some issues because that’s where I used to be. I can’t imagine someone who respects themselves behaves this way: getting so drunk that they cannot stand, vomiting on themselves or others and then wake up the next day thinking that was awesome and fun and how great their night turned out. 

In addition to that, drinking alcohol is a socially acceptable activity and has been for thousands of years. Not drinking alcohol is weird, socially unacceptable because you’re making some people feel uncomfortable unless you give them an answer like: I’m on medication, I’m fasting for a test tomorrow or I’m pregnant. Saying that you’re not drinking because you just don’t want to… I hate to break it to you, but this will never be easy. You will get mixed reactions. Some people are totally cool with it (rare). There are some people who just won’t even ask you (super rare). There are those who will still get you your old favourite (common). Some will ask if you’re pregnant (common and fucking rude). And some, well some might just decide you’re not their friend anymore because you’ve “changed” (common). 

When it comes to the harsh reality of life, I realised that alcohol was not medication to numb the pain, because the pain would remain long after I had sobered up. In fact, the pain intensified because alcohol is a depressant and it just made me feel worse. It never helped me deal with my problems, it just amplified them. I drank very heavily in my 20s for any problem that I encountered. I feel that this does one a great disservice - not only are you robbing yourself the chance to experience the reality of life which is a good thing to be aware of, but you’re also robbing yourself the opportunity to grow into any kind of person who can deal with problems and learn from them. 

Problems are life’s greatest teachers because if we can learn how to deal with them and work through them and possibly come out the other side as a better person, then what chance do you have to live a fulfilling life if you constantly are numbing your pain with alcohol? What kind of adult will you be if you never feel true freedom from cloaks, beliefs, ideologies and shit you read on the internet?

Now, I know this is not true for everyone. I know there are people out there that can enjoy many drinks and have a good time. I know there are people out there who enjoy having a good time and they still respect themselves and other people. However, I could not. I noticed that all the bad shit in my life was very closely related to my alcohol consumption. I’ve also noticed that the bad influences in my life had left the moment I put the bottle down for good. 

Every morning, when I wake up, I feel rested. I am not hung over. I can live my day to the fullest. I do not live my day with regret about the night before. I can engage in conversation with someone just fine at a party, over lunch, over dinner. I’m not “faking it” and I’m not a crazy alcoholic who is begging for just one more drop of good times. My sanity depends on my sobriety. My life that I have built and the people who love me, depend on me to be myself. I depend on me to be myself, otherwise what else do I have?

For the past three weeks, I have been doing the HCG Diet. It’s insane, and all my knowledge tells me that this should work whether I take hormones or not. However, I’ve been trying to lose excess fat for almost 9 years and I cannot tell you how much frustration I have gone through in that time. Name it, I’ve tried it (except lypo) and if you think that maybe I don’t have the discipline, let me tell you that I could discipline the fuck out of anything.  Is that even a thing? It is.

I was driven by many things, but mainly because I feel that this fat follows me around like the shadow from my old life. I want to expel it all and move on, so my body matches my new life and lifestyle. I train hard, I eat well, I am disciplined. I am always trying to learn about myself to be the best person I can be. But this fat, it almost suffocates me. 

A lot of people say; “You’re not fat”. Well, thanks. But it’s not about that. I’m not exactly skinny, either. But it’s not about that. It’s about my health. My health is the most important thing to me. 

Anyway, I’ve learned a lot of things during this very intense 3 weeks. Let me tell you what I’ve learned.

1. Support is nice, but not required and it shouldn’t be expected. However, that’s not to say I am not shocked by how little certain people really care about what I am doing. It’s kind of hurtful but not exactly damaging. 
2. I have been seriously re-evaluating the relationship I have with food. I used food as a way to control something I couldn’t control; bad day, period, failure etc. So I eat. It’s some kind of cycle.Which leads me to…
3. How much I realised I never received unconditional love from my parents. Boom. Isn’t that harsh? Yes. My weight was a serious point of contention from my mother when I was in my late teens. Without changing my diet, I stacked on the weight because I’d been on the pill since I was 14 for acne. Then it was my fault. I was an embarrassment to my skinny family. I was restricted food, I was forced to exercise, I was told I was fat. I eat because food gives me love. So now, I’m learning not to associate food with love
4. It’s made me evaluate whether I want to have children. I’d decided a while ago that my true reason for not having children was not because I was terrified of becoming my mother, but because I just didn’t want them and that was ok. It was a relief that my decision wasn’t based on fear or hatred, but rather a decision I’d made for myself.
5. How much birth control has fucked me up. I’ve been on it for 16 years now and I am very seriously considering going off it for good. I often wonder what my life would have been like had I not ever been on the pill. Would I be having these problems? Would I be on this diet?
6. And then, in reference to point number 3 - I was pleasantly surprised how supportive my mum and dad have been throughout these past 3 weeks. They’re constantly checking in with me, giving me words of encouragement etc. I believe my mum feels guilty about her treatment of me and even allowing me to go on the pill at 14 as a pizza-faced teen. I think she thinks it’s her fault when the reality is, who can blame you for taking the advice of a GP?
7. How much people take advantage of my loyalty and my kindness. I am a generous person and I take pleasure in buying coffees for friends, treating them, offering my time (I can’t tell you how many resume’s and cover letters I have read and edited for these people), simply giving away clothing or bags (sometimes brand new) I no longer use and never expecting anything in return. But I have realised that people close to me are now asking this generosity of me which fucking pisses me off. I am generous when I feel like it, when I want to be. It shouldn’t be expected, it is earned when I feel friendship from you. I don’t expect these people to treat me to things that I have treated them to, but I don’t want them to walk all over me just because i like to give. 
8. I’ve learned that we are constantly being marketed to, whether we actively engage or not. I notice ads for foods that I can’t have. I notice news articles about stupid fucking “super foods”. It’s difficult to avoid these foods and easy to accept them into our lives because they are in our faces.
9. I have become deeply mortified at the amount of sugar people around me consume, whether it be in sugary foods or normal foods with hidden sugar and no nutritional value. In fact, I wonder whether i will return to consuming as much sugar as I used to.
10. I shouldn’t keep things to myself just out of fear of being judged. I am judged the minute I am born. I need to remind myself that if I really believed that, I wouldn’t ever leave my house. I wouldn’t be married. I’d be a shut-in.
11. I’ve learned what real failure is, which is giving up. Failure is not NOT meeting a deadline, because at least I worked to meet the deadline. Failure isn’t eating something bad, because at least my next meal was wholesome food. Failure is not NOT losing weight, because at least I am still training every week, still making great choices with my food, still trying to expand my brain. Failure is not an argument,  because at least we are communicating and reaching a resolution.
12. Fat has memory. As I lose it, I have the weirdest dreams of people and places I have barely thought of. Some for more than 20 years. It rustle’s up insane shit and makes for a confronting dream.

Here’s to the next three weeks. 

Sigh

Here’s the deal; I am sitting at home right now whilst my husband and our friends are on a bus, doing fun things in the Swan Valley. My seat has been paid for, but I’m stuck in this very seat from which I write. Why?

On Friday morning, as I was getting ready for work, I felt ill. It felt as though my cold had come back, and my throat was sore and painful. While I was getting dressed and feeling sorry for myself, I saw it; huge red splotches on my chest. By this point, I was dressed and about to head out the door. With no time to think, I put my scarf on and raced to work. 

Every time I’d go to the bathroom, I’d check myself out. Sure enough, the rash was all over my arms, my stomach, my back. I freaked out. The last time I had this was 10 years ago. I had my heart broken, fell sick, got a terrible rash and ended up in hospital with a viral infection. That was a complete nightmare. Motivated not to fall into the past, I booked an appointment with a random GP.

The GP was a lovely, kind woman. She spoke with a very soft accent which could have passed as American, if I didn’t have so many European friends with the same accent. When she asked me if I had been stressed, I felt like I was going to crumble. 

Yes, I have been. 

I felt like a fool. After four months of working hard on myself to reduce my chronic stress and improve my health and well-being, I had tried not to fall back into the hole. But I felt like the force was so much bigger than me and I gave in. I should have known better. I should have reached out and talked about what was going on, but I was too embarrassed, too ashamed. I reached out to a very small number of people who I felt wouldn’t judge me, who could offer their support. That helped me. But knowing I’d go home and the problems would remain; I hated that feeling. 

During this time, I would fake it. I’d do my gratefulness exercise every day, I’d steal moments to breathe and do power pose. I’d sort of write in my journal. But I never actually took the time for me. I was fumbling my way through, waiting until things took another turn. Eventually, they did. But then I woke up with the rash.

“Fake it ‘til you make it” is one of my mantra’s. If I’m not feeling great, I change my physiology to that of how I would when I feel great and powerful. I change my voice, I fake smile until it grows into a real smile. It works. But in this instance, I could have used something else. I could have used my common sense. I’ve learned all these great things, but I still allow my old habits and old ways of thinking to overwrite all these great new habits. I am 31 years old, these habits are 3 months old. I need to keep going.

This morning, I looked at the rash and I had a moment with myself. If this wasn’t a big red stop sign, then I don’t know what is. This is just a rash, sure. But imagine if next time, it’s something worse? Instead of feeling sorry for myself, I need to put this into action. I need to turn my problem into an opportunity.