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DELIVER ME, CARRIE NATION

A DRAMATIST'S ACCOUNT OF NO LONGER BEING A DRUNK PERSON

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SOBER AND SKINNY

February 29, 2016February 29, 2016 ~ soberclementine ~ Leave a comment

I haven’t written in a while. I’ve started a bunch of drafts, but have never
wanted to publish them.

Quick update: Still sober, still into it. It’ll be 6 months on March 8th (I’ve
got an alert on my calendar from back in the days when I was just starting and 6
months felt like a lifetime). Good things happening in my life, general
not-being-a-fuck-up behavior is more frequent than being-a-fuck-up behavior.

That said, I’m fucked up.

I’m sober, but I’m all twisted up about food and I don’t know if I’m actually
kind of fine or headed down a slippery slope.

So I’ve lost about 22 pounds since I gave up drinking. It’s a lot of weight to
have lost. I’m short, and I had a normal BMI to begin with. I still have a
normal BMI, although it’s verging on the very low side.

I’m a former actor turned writer. Anyone who’s a woman who’s been an actor knows
that in that world, it’s pretty hard to ever feel like you’re too thin.

Anyway I’m getting to that point where people are starting to tell me not to
lose any more weight. I have a history with anorexia and bulimia that got me
hospitalized in high school, but I haven’t really had a problem with eating
since my early 20s (I’m almost 35). But something about the sobriety has
sparked me restricting my food again.

The day I stopped drinking, I felt like all my desire, all my cravings just
ceased. Like along with my disgust at drinking I became disgusted with all
consumption.

This translated into weight loss. It has been easy to make the weight loss seem
normal because of the stopping drinking (When people comment on my weight loss I
shrug and jokingly tell people, “I stopped drinking, which tells you how much I
was drinking”).

And my eating has not been the kind of restricting where I eat lettuce leaves
and nothing else, but rather the kind of restricting in which I’ll have a couple
bites of stew here, a couple of cheese and crackers there, a slice of cake for
breakfast and then not much until dinner. In short, I eat small amounts of
incredibly rich foods. I often don’t eat very much until late in the day to
avoid consuming too much. It’s not very healthy.

But it’s also not terrible. I just see the potential of it getting terrible.
It’s so different from my teenage and early-20’s disordered eating that I don’t
know what to make of it. I already have passed my goal weight that I’ve had in
my mind since the birth of my daughter, and I catch myself bandying about lower
and lower goal weights, like “wouldn’t it be cool if you weighed this?” etc.
etc.

Part of me wonders if I just don’t pass any judgment on this eating thing, if I
just wait it out, then my system will right itself. Part of me just believes I
should get myself to eat more vegetables. Lots of me believes that I need to get
myself to a therapist to help with this whole sobriety thing, but I don’t have
the time or the money.

So many people talk about the weight loss that comes with stopping drinking.
It’s an incentive, naturally, but for me it’s becoming a distraction. I really
didn’t want to be the kind of person in recovery who downed a pint of ice cream
every night, but that’s because I spent so much time binging and purging in my
teens and 20s that I seriously feel like that situation is all played out for
me.

This whole situation is new, though. I can’t say I’m not excited about being
thin again. I am. And I can’t say that I don’t want to hang on to this weight
loss. I do. But I don’t want to go into yet another recovery process.

Anyone out there get weird about food when you stopped drinking? How did you
work it out?

DRIVING TO THE MOON IN A VOLKSWAGON

December 21, 2015 ~ soberclementine ~ 2 Comments

My husband asked me yesterday at his birthday dinner (after my 100 days no
drinking had passed) (as noted by a mark I had on the calendar from my early
days, not counting) (extra, useless parenthetical because good things come in
threes) what my ‘plan’ was in relation to my drinking.

I said I was pretty sure it was forever in a one-day-at-a-time kind of way.

And I asked him if he was upset about it.

And he said no.

And I pressed him.

And he still said no. And then he said, you’re more likely to see me coming over
to your side than me convincing you to come back to mine.

And that was a wonderful 100 day gift.

We talked a little more, and I voiced a little vudu thought that’s been going
through my head.

Basically, that I feel like I have a good life. A good life that is ratcheting
up to be a GREAT life. (And as much as I know the value of being in the moment,
I also think something gets lost when you cut the aspiration out of your life).

But that goodness, of my life, that to me feels incredibly nerve-wracking. Like,
why do I deserve such a good life? Something is bound to happen to interrupt
what has felt like a stream of good fortune (I mean it’s not like I don’t have
struggles — I mean good fortune in the sense of good health, security, love and
family).

And something will. But last night I told my husband that I viewed myself
quitting drinking as a spiritual homage to the good fortune that I feel like I
have. I viewed it as a kind of sacrifice. And then I reworded it. I said — not
sacrifice so much as — I want to be awake for this life. Really and truly awake
and aware of every minute it’s happening. In good and bad. I feel like I owe my
life my sobriety.

Blah blah blah and then we talked about Saint West*

Buddhism talks so much about being “awake”. I mean, I find it hilarious that the
tradition of Buddhism that I was practicing with back in the day almost
encouraged drinking — trying to “wake up” while getting blotto 2-3 nights a week
was, for me, to quote James Ellroy “trying to get to the moon in a Volkswagon.”

Not like sobriety is some sort of express train to enlightenment, but I think,
on the way (to a destination I’ll never reach in this lifetime) It’s got a
better view.

*Did not actually discuss Saint West.

PRIDE GOETH…

December 8, 2015 ~ soberclementine ~ 7 Comments

Of course, after that chipper, glowing paean to being an awesome person at
sobriety I wrote yesterday, I had a night made of trash.

I stayed sober through it. I didn’t want to, but I did.

Basically I just don’t understand how to balance having an under 2 year old,
getting household chores done so that you don’t feel like you’re drowning in
mess and laundry, be trying to launch a career, and having enough energy to
spend quality, non-TV time with your spouse that leads to … you know, without
both of you taking the breath that is a shared bottle of wine.

Sometimes we do some yoga together and that’s nice, but we’re not both always in
the mood to do it. Sometimes we sit with our computers at the kitchen table
together and get things done, but invariably it depresses one of us. My husband
gets up super early and so whenever we watch a movie he falls into a deep sleep
(with snoring) and that drives me crazy (which he thinks is crazy) and we end up
having an argument about it. He hates Scrabble.

Honestly I don’t know what to do. The wine used to help – it was fun and it
loosened us up (both of us feel like we’re juggling a good deal of things, and
it can be hard to unwind). I’m better without it, but these nights at home
aren’t (and I’m getting the not-so-subtle messages from my husband that he
misses wine nights, which is depressing my shit to no end).

I don’t know what to do. Seriously. Any thoughts?

HELLO 90 DAYS

December 7, 2015December 7, 2015 ~ soberclementine ~ 4 Comments

WARNING: Pink Fluffy Cloud Sentiments To Follow:

I love not drinking.

Thanksgiving was a teensy bit hard (although, really, hard for other reasons).
There have been a couple of rough nights when my mood has been in the garbage
and I’ve not been my best self to people I care about.

BUT I LOVE NOT DRINKING.

Let me count the ways…

1. I know this is kind of — well, surface-oriented, but I have lost AN ENTIRE
15 POUNDS (I mean, I’m fucking short, so that’s HUGE) without much effort
at all. I’ve upped my exercise (because it feels good) and I’m no longer
chasing after sausage egg & cheese on a bagel sandwiches after a rough
night, but I’ve definitely been enjoying treats: pies, cookies, cakes, ice
cream, and SO much fancy cheese. I used to diet like crazy to keep my
calories in check for my drinking, and couldn’t lose a pound for trying
(um, just maybe because I was drinking 800-1200 calories of booze every
evening). Now my eating is much more balanced and relaxed AND the poundage
is melting off.
2. I feel responsible and in control of my abundant life. Prior to getting
sober, I felt like I was just drifting along like a leaf. I had my work,
but my work doesn’t pay very well, and the support of my family definitely
rests upon the shoulders of my husband. As someone who never envisioned
herself as someone who would be “supported,” that drove me craze. There’s
this song I (maybe a bit strangely) sing to my daughter in the evenings
while putting her to sleep from the musical Caroline, Or Change. There’s a
line in the song that goes, “The day will come, I’ll pack up the NOTHING I
own.” When I was drinking I used to sing that song and cry at that line
every night. I don’t have shit, is what I would think to myself. About 40
or so days into my sobriety, I sang that to my daughter and realized that
that line no longer affected me – because I realized I had so much
abundance in my life. I have my family, I have my education, I have my
skills, I have my work (which may not pay so many bills these days, but
will do so soon, and besides I’m raising a human being right so there’s
that). This whole narrative of suffering about my work status has gone the
way of the 15 pounds, and I feel excited and responsible for all aspects of
my life.
3. Aspects of my work that used to stress me out do not stress me out as much.
Life changing.
4. I have revelations again, personal and about humanity. My favorite
experience in my twenties was the moment when I learned something new about
just – you know, being a human. Like, “ah, everybody wants to be liked,”
or, “saying I don’t know is more powerful than pretending you know,” you
know, things like that. When I got into my 30s, I felt like my revelations
had stop coming with frequency, or at all. This really bummed me out. But
now I realize I was just anesthetizing my brain with alcohol, and now that
I’m sober, I’m learning again/anew small and beautiful insights as I go
through my days. That may seem strange, but it’s a huge value-added in my
life.
5. Art (by which I mean mainly theater and film which are WHAT I DO) mean
something to me again. Like, I get why I do them again. I’ll leave that
there, but again, it’s life changing.
6. I not only like, but I LOVE to exercise. Isn’t that hilarious?
7. I also love giving myself some treats! I’ve been to spas and bought jeans
and today am getting a Christmas tree with some cute-as-all-hell handmade
ornaments for my 90 days.
8. My baking game is ON POINT.
9. I’m a better fighter. I used to be The Worst Person to Have a Fight With In
The World (TM). If a confrontation arose, I would cry profusely, apologize
profusely, and then nurture a grudge against the person for 5-10 years.
Now, I’m not so ashamed of myself that I can’t grow a pair and say what’s
bothering me, or defend myself. I can stand on my own two feet and say,
“Um, no. I don’t think you’re right, and here’s why.” That doesn’t mean I
don’t see it from their side eventually, or admit when I’m wrong, but it’s
just healthier. There is, of course the theory that some psychotherapists
subscribe to that depression is redirected anger. Letting my anger out in
short bursts has desperately improved my overall mood. Leading to:
10. I’M NOT DEPRESSED. (right now). I know depression comes and goes, but these
past 90 days, without alcohol keeping my mood down, I have experienced an
exponential growth of day-to-day well-being. I enjoy my daughter more, my
husband more, and my sweet life, for which I am so grateful for, more and
more and more. Once again I appreciate a beautiful day, a spot of sun
coming in hot through a window, a hard laugh, a beautifully written
sentence.

There’s more. But that seems like a good one to close on. I’m the granddaughter
of a preacher, so I can’t help stepping up to the pulpit every once in a while
and saying: seriously, if you’re thinking about giving up booze, even (or
especially) if the dialogue you’re having is wondering whether you’re an
alcoholic or not, then please, give not drinking a try. If your life is better
without booze, does it matter whether you’re an alcoholic or not?

It really really doesn’t.

See you soon,

Clem.

ALMOST TO 90.

December 1, 2015December 1, 2015 ~ soberclementine ~ 4 Comments

I’m getting fuzzy about my numbers on purpose.

I feel like the world has confirmed, in good and not so good ways, that not
drinking is a better way for me to go. This is not an experiment, this is not a
test, this is an entree into a new way of life.

And besides the fact that I’ll have to host some dinner parties without feeling
like I’m the star of my own Nancy Meyer’s movie (i.e. goblet of wine in hand in
my perfectly tiled kitchen with art-directed gourd arrangements), I’m feeling
pretty stoked about it.

Today I got a work email that normally would have sent me into a tailspin of
stress. This morning, however, I woke up and realized it was no big deal, and I
could deal with it calmly and with no excess nervous rumbling in the pit of my
stomach.

Part of this is realizing that there ARE life and death circumstances in this
world, and my work is not one of them. Part of this is the fact that I’m not
drinking, and my general coping skills are just simply higher — I’m not hiding
from the email in a bottle of wine, so I’m not as likely to drown.

There’s been this odd shift in me. I just feel like the stuff that used to make
me want to run under the covers and hide is no longer that threatening.

I had a revelation in college when I all of a sudden started doing my homework.
I never had to do homework in high school and so didn’t get accustomed to
working, BUT I was always stressed out about not doing my homework, not handing
things in on time, waiting until that dreaded last week of the quarter to stay
up all hours and hand everything in.

When I was in college and I finally realized, “oh, I can just do my work and I
won’t be stressed out all the time” it was like an enormous weight had been
taken off my shoulders. I felt free. And good. And happy.

Similarly, I feel like I have just felt this shift about my work. I simply need
to do it – not dread it, or run away from it. What’s there to run away from,
anyway? It will still be there when I decide to come back.

Sometimes, in sobriety, I do get that feeling that I just want to escape — and
I’m sad that I can’t have a drink to bring me down and out of the reality of the
situation. But lately I’ve realized that sobriety is all about playing and
winning the long game. The long term results and effects far outshine the
momentary release that drinking gave me.

And so, here’s life. and it’s the only one I’ve got. I’d like to be around for
it.

DAY 83: WORST THANKSGIVING EVER TM

November 30, 2015 ~ soberclementine ~ 2 Comments

I didn’t drink.

Let’s get that out of the way.

It was the worst Thanksgiving ever, and I drank a million cups of coffee and
smoked during the day, which I never do, but I did not drink.

My mom, who is one of the most vibrant and healthy people I know, inexplicably
passed out on the Tuesday before Thanksgiving and hit her head against a granite
countertop on her way down to the ground.

I was in the other room and heard her go down (thank god) and was sober (thank
fucking god) and ran in to find her lying on the floor in a pool of her own
blood. We called 911 and they came quickly (thank fucking fucking god) and we
got her to the hospital. She had a small brain bleed (the worst phrase) but it
healed over the course of her stay. She’s sustained some memory loss, but is
getting gradually better. The real problem is that we have NO idea why she’s
passing out. She has no medical history or complications that the doctor can
find in any way. This is the second time she’s passed out in the last two months
(the first was on a plane) but because she has memory loss we can’t know if the
incidents were related.

It’s terrifying. I’m back home now, but even thinking of her walking around the
kitchen or doing laundry in the basement back in our childhood home fills me
with fear and gripping anxiety.

I am not ready for my mom to go. I am not ready for her to be sick. I am not
ready for her to be anything other than the kick-ass woman she is – a woman who
is literally stronger, like in her arms, than her daughter. A woman who wakes up
at 5am and goes to bed at 1am and spends all the time between working on
everyone’s happiness other than her own. The most fun and energetic grandmother
to my daughter. I can’t face the idea of not having my mom in my daughter’s
life.

I’m just not ready.

I’m thankful for Buddhist training in these moments. I know that worrying won’t
solve anything. I know to breathe.

Life is so precious and so fragile. I know that even more now.

DAY 76: BUT ONLY THROUGH MATH.

November 23, 2015November 23, 2015 ~ soberclementine ~ 2 Comments

I haven’t written in a bit because of…I don’t know.

I realized today that I didn’t know what day I was at in terms of sobriety. I
only knew by looking at my last post, the date today, and doing the math.

That feels like some sort of victory.

This morning I woke up and thought to myself, “I don’t drink….WEIRD.” Then I
thought, “I used to drink all the time…..WEIRD”

//giphy.com/embed/lyktq0lf5lZoQ

via GIPHY

I’m also at the point where I’m realizing that nobody is going to give me a
medal for staying sober. Some people may be impressed, but silent (as I was when
I heard about other people stopping drinking), some people may be disappointed,
but silent, and other people will just be silent because they have nothing to
say and they assume it’s my business and I want to keep it that way.

Growing up I was a “good girl.” I put it in quotes because it was all external
goodness in the hope of being recognized and patted on the back by approving
adults. It was all about the medals, the prizes, the recognition.

Sobriety has taught me that I have to go a long way towards making the barometer
of my self-approval myself, not others. It may make my husband occasionally feel
bad that I don’t drink: I know it’s best for me. It may make my mother feel like
I’m not as fun: I know it’s best for me. My friends may take a while to adjust
to the fact that coming over to my house for dinner may no longer be the booze
fest it used to be: still, I know it’s best for me, and I need to do what’s best
for me.

It’s like my compass used to be pointed towards what other people thought and
approved of – if they said they thought I didn’t have a problem, I believed
them. It took giving up the sauce to realize that the person I’m most
responsible to is myself, and the prizes and awards are my strength, confidence,
faith in myself, and pride in an accomplishment I know is pretty big. Even if
nobody else does.

//giphy.com/embed/lyktq0lf5lZoQ

via GIPHY

DAY 64: I COULD CONTROL MY DRINKING (BUT IT SUCKED)

November 11, 2015 ~ soberclementine ~ 4 Comments

I could control my drinking.

I could go out with a friend, and we could drink two glasses of wine, and I
could be done with it. I could then go home, and not wanting to get into
anything with my husband, I could resist buying beer on the way home.

Many nights I could do that, and those many nights kept me drinking for many
more nights in which I didn’t want to control my drinking and didn’t.

But what I’ve realized in these past 64 days not drinking is that it’s not
really the nights that I couldn’t control my drinking which I’m so glad to be
free of (in honesty, those nights could, when they didn’t turn dark, be fun (the
aftermath? Not so fun – but that’s a different story)). No, it’s those nights
of controlling my drinking that I’m so glad to be done with.

Why?

Because controlling my drinking was PURE PAIN.

Just unrelenting agony of reminding myself to sip slowly when I wanted to gulp.
Of watching the level of my friend’s glass and internally cursing at them for
not drinking faster. Cursing them for not being overly concerned about getting
the bartender’s attention. Cursing them when they didn’t order another.
(Beaucoup cursing). Getting angry for no reason at my husband when I came home,
not realizing the real reason I was angry was that I wanted MORE TO DRINK AND
ONLY MY FEARS ABOUT SABOTAGING THIS RELATIONSHIP WAS KEEPING ME FROM RUNNING OUT
TO THE BODEGA AROUND THE CORNER AND BRINGING HOME A COMFORTING SIX-PACK/EXPRESS
TRAIN TO OBLIVION.

I’m so glad to be beyond that pain. To not be facing that pain on a near daily
basis. It’s a whole new kind of freedom.

DAY 59: TRUSTING THE NOT-HUNGOVER GUT

November 6, 2015November 6, 2015 ~ soberclementine ~ 1 Comment

One amazing byproduct of sobriety is trust. Not trust in other people, but trust
in yourself.

I remember as a young, fledgling Buddhism student (still drinking) I came across
Sakyong Mipham’s wonderful guide to meditation, Turn Your Mind Into An Ally.

What a title, I thought, and still think. Turning my desiring, addicted,
obsessive mind into a helpful mate through this journey of life became something
I coveted deeply. For a couple of years, I became very involved in Buddhist
study – I went on retreats, I read, I blogged, I was active in the community in
which I was studying. And while I was still drinking throughout all of this, I
was more moderate. (Of course now I look back on that time and see it as the
most painful, white-knuckling kind of moderate). Also, I was more clear – and I
trusted myself and my instincts so much more. It’s not a surprise to me that it
was in this period of my life that I met and started dating the man who would be
my husband — I was healthy enough to recognize an amazing man and clear enough
to not fuck the whole thing up.

Life, love, ambition — they all got in the way of me turning my life more fully
toward a Buddhist path. I still meditate, and I’ll read my favorites: Pema
Chodron, Choyam Trungpa Rinphoche, Thich Nhat Hanh or the love of my life Jack
Kornfield for inspiration fairly regularly. But I’m at peace with the fact that
right now I look to meditation as an aid in stress relief and organizing an
overly busy mind – not a full-time quest for nirvana.

That said, I’ve come to realize that since I’ve stopped drinking, I’ve gradually
accumulated (without epic Buddhist involvement) a kind of clarity of mind that
I haven’t experienced for several years. And that clarity has resulted in a
self-trust that is empowering to feel.

A small example in which I break a small law:

Today I was walking my girl in her stroller over to the YMCA for some good old
toddler romp around time. We came to an intersection at a road. Normally,
rather than looking left then right, and then crossing, I would walk my girl one
block out of the way so that I could cross with the crosswalk. But today, I
noticed that there were no cars coming and she and I crossed.

So you jaywalked. Why is that a big deal?

Because, the reason I would have walked out of my way to cross at the crosswalk
before was that I couldn’t trust myself to correctly judge how far away the cars
were. If I had been hungover (as I was nearly every day to a greater or lesser
extent) my reality would be all swimmy – and I couldn’t rely on my watery
eyeballs to gauge whether I had the time and space to cross the street or not.

After my jaywalking stint, I reflected that while I was involved in my Buddhist
study, it seemed like I had to do SO MUCH to feel the effects go with me in my
daily life. An hour a day of meditation, yoga or Buddhist classes nearly every
day, books, journals, podcasts. I was, of course, undercutting all my efforts
by still drinking, but that whole mental clarity shebang was a full. on.
pursuit.

How amazing, then, that my well-being can skyrocket (even as my entire family
lies groaning, slain by stomach virus) by simply letting booze go. Instead of
adding, adding, adding – just subtracting. Instead of saying yes to retreat
programs that I can’t really afford and can’t really justify fitting into my
schedule — saying a simple and steadfast no to the most complicated relationship
in my life has brought about a clarity and steadfastness that took Herculean
effort before.

It seems like such a small thing but it struck me as so huge. When I was
drinking, I was constantly terrified about fucking up – either because I was
hungover or because I was drunk. This terror made me brittle, and stiff, and
separated from my instincts – as a mother, a worker, a friend, a lover. Not
drinking, there’s an innate confidence and self-trust that has imbued all my
actions. I’m definitely not right about everything – but I’m…there. And there’s
a steadiness to that. And with that steadiness, trust. And with that trust, well
maybe some self-love eventually. Wouldn’t that be nice.

DAY 58: RANTRANTRANT

November 5, 2015 ~ soberclementine ~ 1 Comment

A RANT

I am not the kind of non-drinker who wants to do the same things they did when
they were drinking, and I’m amazed that so many of my friends think that I do.
I do not want to go to bars where I can’t even get a decent soda to drink and
we can hardly hear each other talk. Why should I? I do not want to go to bad
performances with high ticket prices because “drinks are free.” And, mostly, I
do not want to walk though our relationship and not talk about the fact that I’m
not drinking.

I know I’m probably way more uptight about this than other people (or
conversely, they’re more uptight about this than I am) but I actually want
people to ask me why I’m not drinking. Not random people – not an
acquaintance at a cocktail party or someone at a work function, but the people
who are supposedly my friends. I guess my not drinking makes them feel strange
– and they’re not sure how much I want to keep things to myself. But I feel
lonely.

It also seems like an unspoken rule that you are not supposed to talk about your
kid with your friends who don’t have a kid. Again, if it’s a work colleague I
can totally see keeping the topic away from your family. But if I
sympathetically listen to you speaking about every Tinder date you’ve gone on,
why does your face go dark when I, for one moment, speak about MY DAUGHTER WHO
IS THE MOST IMPORTANT PERSON IN MY LIFE WHO I AM RAISING TO BE AN ADULT HUMAN.

I’m just getting tired of saying to hubband, “I know I talk about sobriety all
the time, but in sobriety…”, and I wish I could share with a friend. I have one
sober friend, but he’s very busy with work and we only manage to see each other
once a month at best. It seems to speak badly about my friend relationships that
I can’t steer the conversation toward sobriety and child-raising, but I can just
feel the vibe that they don’t want to talk about these issues emanating from
their faces and body language. I feel like I’m navigating enough without adding
a confrontation on top of it.

Most of this is self-pity, and I tell myself I need to just get over myself, get
invested in their dramas, work on compassion, not make things about me. But I
also realize that friendships are two-way streets, and in order for my
friendships to continue, I need to share my life with people.

Maybe I’m also angry because I think the drinking population wants to believe
that people who are sober had a super easy time giving up alcohol, don’t miss
it, and are happy with their club sodas at dinner. Most of the times for me,
that’s pretty true these days, but sometimes it’s not. And I want to talk about
it.

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