I woke up a little after 1 in the morning and the thinking machine started up. I wasn’t tired, so it didn’t upset me that I couldn’t fall back to sleep. After all, it’s winter break so I could take a nap this afternoon if I really need it. I’m generally not a napper, but I could probably use more sleep than I am getting. I went ahead and got up about 6:30.
Not bad, considering I don’t remember going to bed. Again.
Because I am going to get sober, I have been drinking all the liquor and wine in the house so that there is nothing here when we return from our Christmas visit to Texas. I explained to my husband that going into that cluster with new sobriety was not something that sounded even remotely like a good idea and he agreed. His agreeing with me is one of the reasons I keep him around.
I have been thinking that I should quit drinking for quite a long time now. And honestly, I think part of me just thought I could be the exception to the rule and I could still have it all while simultaneously throwing it down the drain. Let me explain this morning’s musings.
I remembered going to a friend’s parents’ house. I was actually going to start cleaning for them and my friend was showing me around. I saw these white spots on the wood floor and I happened to ask about them. She told me it was liquor, that her dad and stepmom were functioning alcoholics. I had never heard that expression before.
I took quick stock of their lives and I think I took it as some sort of challenge. This guy was a doctor and his wife, a school administrator. They owned a nice home in a prestigious part of town as well as vacation property and could afford private schools for their children.
At the time, I was just starting a masters degree in counseling (that I later opted out of) and was about to get married. I drank to excess occasionally, but it didn’t consume me. I have had my share of trauma and guarding my mental health has been a constant. Almost twenty years later and a whole lot of territory in between and lately it’s me and a bottle of wine every night. I actually do not remember the last time I went to sleep unaided.
My husband and I have good careers, a nice home and a reasonably happy family, but I still have that gigantic hole in my soul that I cannot seem to fill. I started yoga this summer and it has been the closest thing to making me feel like it might not always be so. I might not always have to endure this longing.
In the past year, since getting a new psychiatrist for my son, I have been drawn to a print that is hanging on the wall in the waiting room. I have no idea where it is from or who to attribute it to. It actually looks a little like something someone kept back from a calendar and then threw in a frame, but it resonates so deeply with me.
I wanted more than this.
I am pretty convinced that whatever the “more” is, it’s not on the other side of a black out. So, here I go. I have been drowning out my words for the better part of twenty years and I am sure that it has kept me from being my true self and real soul growth. I’m ready to experience what is in store for me as I start expecting that I am worth “more”.