Therapy last night was…unexpected. It was exactly what I needed, and very unexpected. But it was so, so meaningful.
I’ll give you a guess as to the topic of conversation – yup, alcohol.
It started off rather normally, I was an anxious ball of nerves, I rambled about nothing that really mattered, and I tried to mask and play down how I was feeling.
We talked about the baby, how I’m not sleeping for shit, and how I’m essentially running on caffeine and alcohol.
That led her to ask how it’s going with that…with the drinking. To which I cheerfully and sarcastically replied that it’s going great!
We dug into that a bit more, and I casually mentioned how I was kind of proud of myself for problem solving how I was going to try to get more alcohol. Remember the post I wrote the other day, about how I ran out of alcohol and had to get more without potentially upsetting or asking my husband? Well, I did, I found a way around that, and I was pretty proud of myself for securing a few bottles of alcohol without having to go myself or ask my husband.
I told my therapist this, not thinking much of it…but apparently it was a bigger deal and more concerning than I thought.
In the 3 and a half weeks that it’s been since I’ve started drinking again after the baby was born…it’s apparently escalated pretty quickly. And at a much faster rate than I guess is good. And as much as I want to downplay it or diminish it…there’s really no denying that I’m on a fast track back to destruction again.
But the conversation that we had last night in therapy meant something. And I did hear it in a different way this time.
I keep trying to control my drinking. Trying to convince myself that I can drink like a “normal” person, that I won’t fall victim to the addict tendencies that I have, and that my life won’t completely fall apart if I keep this up.
In my mind, addiction should work the same way that any other neurodiverse brain does. By adapting. A dyslexic child can learn to read, even if it’s harder. Someone with adhd can manage their symptoms better with knowledge and skills. People can adapt. So, in my head, why should this be any different? Why can I just…be better?
But that isn’t how addiction works. It will get worse. It will snowball. And it will change me.
It will destroy my relationships, which is the most important thing to me.
I always say that when the relationships in my life are good and solid, everything else in my life is more manageable. And then they’re not, when they are on shaky ground and there is contention or disagreement…it seems like my whole world falls apart.
Right now, all of the most important relationships in my life are good. My husband and I are good, the relationship I have with my therapist is strong…everything is good.
But that has not always been the case. I’ll never know if it was a chicken or the egg situation…which one made the other worse…but last year, before I got pregnant and for a while before then, everything in my life was absolute shit. My drinking was the worst it ever was, my relationships were falling apart, and I was completely miserable.
My husband and I went through a horrible period, and therapy was basically completely shit as well.
Things are so much better now, and it’s so important to me that it stays that way.
Last night in therapy, I could tell my therapist was genuinely concerned and cared about what was going on and where I was headed. She knows firsthand how bad my relationship with alcohol is, and the way our conversation went last night made sense.
She asked me if I drank anything before I went to therapy last night, and I admitted that I did. Before I got pregnant, I never did anything sober. Including therapy. So her question wasn’t out of left field, that’s something I’ve done in the past.
She asked that I not do that again. That our relationship, just like all of the other relationships in my life, would be affected if I keep drinking in the direction I’m going. I said I wouldn’t, and I meant it.
Drinking makes things easier. It makes talking easier, it makes writing easier, it makes feeling easier. But she doesn’t want therapy to be dependent on alcohol, and I get that. Even though it’s going to be hard as shit and my anxiety is going to feel huge every time, I’m going to do better. Because she’s right, the relationships in my life aren’t worth destroying. Again.
I’m glad we were able to have the conversation that we had in the way that we had it. The 2 hours I spend each week in therapy is often the most important 2 hours of my entire week. I know I’d be in a lot worse of a place without it, even if sometimes like I mess up a ton.
I don’t want to feel the awful, horrible way that I did. And even thought right now I don’t feel great…I sure know that it could be, and has been worse.
I don’t know the solution other than the extremely obvious one of just don’t fucking drink…but I know I have to do better. I want to do better.
My kids are worth it. My husband is worth it. Therapy is worth it. Nothing is worth destroying because I don’t know how to feel better in the moment without it.
A life without alcohol is terrifying.
But I think that, maybe, a life with it is even more terrifying.
I’m not ready for night 1 to be tonight. My brother is coming for Thanksgiving, and honestly, I’ve been looking forward to this visit. With drinking being a part of it.
But I will try to have a Day 1 soon. And then maybe even a day 2.
Hang in there with me…I’m going to try to get this right.
Even if I suck at it.