1 month down, sobriety is the new skinny

My mind may be sober, but my soul is high….


Friday the 13th, a milestone occurred. Yesterday marked 4 weeks of sobriety for me. Honestly, not too thrilling because I’ve celebrated this exact moment in 2009. Been there, done that. However,  I did it! I reminded myself everyday, several times per day that I no longer let alcohol make my decisions. I make the decisions.

There have been highs & lows and everything in between. I’m starting to sleep well, I’m more optimistic, opportunistic and organized. I have a little more patience. I’m utilizing my free time better. I’m motivated. I’m winning!

I had my first ever drunk dream Thursday night.  What a nightmare! Woke up from it and I felt so empty and dark. Completely realistic. I just stared at the ceiling for a moment and quickly realized I dreamt it. Thank fcking God!!!!! I think the alcoholic screws with your mind purposely to test your strength at times. Maybe it’s it’s just a simple reminder on how drinking makes you feel the next day after a black out because not remembering really sucks!

My hubby surprised me & the kids by bringing home cupcakes like we had done many times when I first got sober. For us, sobriety is a big deal. It’s a birthday celebrating life. I’m enjoying the waves of change, welcoming the new relationship I’m slowly developing with myself and learning to handle situations that usually send me into an uproar with finesse. I’m digging this! I’m digging blogging too and discovering others stories of addiction as well. It’s healing and empowering at the same time.

I listen to a lot of music. I find bits and pieces in songs and sometimes those bits and pieces become meaningful to me regardless of what the artist intended. Coldplay’s song, Yellow has some meaning.

I swam across, I jumped across for you……..I drew a line, I drew a line for you……for you I’d bleed myself dry, I’d bleed myself dry for you. I see this song as the “you” being the alcohol. Alcohol became a sick love affair that makes you go through great measures. Lines are crossed with the people you love the most. It sucks the life right out of you, you bleed yourself dry. It’s no way to live. You’re confined. But then the song goes into saying how “you” turn into something beautiful. That beautiful thing for me is sobriety and sobriety truly is a gift. I’m enjoying my family and will continue to enjoy living in the moment. When you look at the stars, they really do shine for you. 🙂


Boyhood-The Movie


If you haven’t watched Boyhood, you need to. I had no idea there were several parts involving alcohol abuse in many contexts. It pretty much covered how drinking involves making numerous bad decisions, how it turns you into a charming individual to get your way only to shatter that image by showing your true asshole colors and how it numbs the abuser and those involved in the relationship with the drinker. I wanted to put my hands over my eyes and make a tiny spot I could look through as if I was watching a horror movie. There were several parts to this movie I identified with. This scene pulled heartstrings. Even though she’s not the alcoholic, marriage ending in divorce, failed attempts at happiness, low self esteem etc has robbed her of enjoying important moments in her life with her children and herself. It’s sad.

The Professor husband that Patricia Arquette marries is pretty much an alcoholic douchebag. He is mentally & physically abusive. I identified with him literally having no patience at all when he would drink. It’s as if he thinks he’s enjoying himself but reality is that he is miserable and hates himself. It shows by the way he interacts with his family. The scene where he’s yelling at the kids saying that there needs to line that they can’t cross anymore and he’s telling his wife that she needs to back him up on this. She responds by saying something like she understands but also reminds him that he has so many rules and lines that he doesn’t want anyone crossing. When you drink you just have no tolerance. No tolerance to alcohol, no tolerance for anything. That’s no way to live life. I want to have tolerance, not drinking gives me that.

Life is fast and I feel like the older I get, the faster it goes. When I’m sober I soak it all in for what it’s worth and I enjoy the moments I have with my kids. The little things become huge and when my soul is happy like this, life becomes pretty god damn rad! When I drink, I cannot see light. The glass is half empty, days become short and I never enjoy the little things that matter the most and I bath in selfishness.

Watch Boyhood. See the positive points that the son makes about social media and relationships and watch how ugly alcohol can make somebody and the effects it has on a family. Walk away knowing the difference between right and wrong and keep counting your sober days.

Blood is Thicker Than Water

Blood is Thicker Than Water…..
Ever since I could remember, I craved a family life that was big and tight knitted. Reality was that family holidays were small and a pain in the ass. My parents divorced when I was too young to know what was going on so I spent my impressionable years splitting holidays with my Mom & biological father.
My biological father is a an immature man who didn’t step up to the plate and take care of his responsibilities. A coward. Up until I was probably 8, my older brother and I would be forced to spend a week with these strangers in the summer. They were my “other” grandparents. We would arrive and I’d want to cry the moment I got out of the car. My greatest memories of these visits included my grandfather drinking Kessler out of a brown paper bag while he drove us to the reservoir to fish. There I am, under the age of ten and the slogan for Kessler whiskey still is tattooed in my brain, “smooth as silk”. My brother would go out into the orchard and throw rocks up in the air and hit them with a baseball bat for hours. Have you ever listened to a rock hit a wood bat for hours? I have and it’s a sound you don’t forget….watching him was far better than being around these strangers who made me feel insecure, nervous and unsettled. How fucked up is it that we would find them on the couch so ripped that they would either be passed out or he would be in this crazy state of mind and joke about things that would make me cry. My brother would have to get a hold of my aunt that lived nearby to come get us. I felt comfort in getting the hell out of their nightmare of a shithole only to experience that emptiness I felt being at their house when we’d have to go back the next day before she had to go to work.
Little did I know, 30 years later I would act out the same scenario for my daughters. How disgusting. Little girls who describe my eyes as crazy when I’m over the edge after a Redbull vodka kind of day. Why is mom sleeping, why is mom being so funny that it scares me? History in the making and another “Mom of the year” moment.

My mom raised us the best way she knew how and the woman taught me that you give someone the shirt off your back if they need it. She was and still is the most giving person I’ve ever known. The house budget was always tight because for one that asshole biological guy never paid child support and her working for my grandparents wasn’t exactly lucrative. They did however help out by putting braces on our teeth, financing the means for my brother and I to have a car at 16, paid for a private Catholic education and paid for college. My grandma would pick me up at school on Fridays and we would go shopping for a new outfit and end it by eating cheese toast at the Happy Steak. My gramps would always take us to Baskin Robbins to get a banana milk shake and we’d get takeout from the Spaghetti Pot. He always liked supped up, fast cars that sounded throaty. I’d laugh as we drove because he would punch the accelerator with his foot as we’d sing our own little songs that we made up. He was a grouch most of the time but he was the only male role model that I loved and respected and when he promised something, he meant it. Thanksgiving and Christmas at their house was never smooth. My grandma always went all out with her China, best silver and crystal. That stuff was cool and all to me because it was special but the part that ruined it for me was losing my Mom for the rest of that holiday due to her slaving in the kitchen to clean everything. I remember thinking how dumb it was to go all out and then have it be so much work to clean up. Christmas was stressful because my mom, brother and I would show up and my grandparents would be pissed because we were always late. What a way to start the tone of the day. We would sit by the fake, flocked tree as my grandpa threw the gifts out and would start cleaning up torn wrapping paper as he shoved it in the black plastic bag. No one usually knew who got what and my grandma was always the last one opening gifts of expensive jewelry she never wore or perfume that would be added to her spare room that was basically a room she was using to hide her hoarding problem. I grew to hate these 2 holidays. My moms brother was 15 years younger than her and her younger sister was mentally handicapped due to lack of oxygen at birth. So due to age difference and due to my aunts circumstances, this immediate family didn’t consist of cousins that I’d get to grow up with.
Blood is thicker than water and of course you can pick your friends but not your family. Even though blood is thicker than water, it doesn’t mean that blood is more supportive, has your back or loves you more. Today my hubby and I raise 3 daughters together and have been married for almost 18 years. This relationship and the family he and I created together is the greatest accomplishment in my life. I learned great tools to stay sober when I went to treatment in 2009. I learned how to dig deep but along the way I opened up a lot of wounds that ended up with a bandaid. Writing out my thoughts and feelings is going to be what heals my wounds. I’m not ashamed of my drinking problem, but I am ashamed of repeating history and hurting the people that I love the most. I will make this right this time. I can’t handle alcohol. That’s a true story.