Dr. Drew the host of Celebrity Rehab would say that I'm an alcoholic. I think. On one episode, I remember him saying that you have an addiction if you have ever suffered consequences, not just whether or not you are "addicted" to it or crave it or can't control it etc etc etc to all those things you think of when you think of an addict.
But I do sometimes suffer consequences from drinking. Aside from hangovers (only with the hard stuff), throwing up (in college), and saying things I regret (always) I have fallen down and skinned my knee (in front of my mother - wince) wrecked my car (just a few months before I got pregnant with the boys) and just never.been.caught. And I don't remember it happening. Just woke up the next morning to destroyed front and back bumpers. Its embarrassing to admit this here. But I have to get this off my chest.
This past Friday night, I met my boss and a friend visiting from out of town at our job site. I had three beers in 90 minutes (and so did they) and then drove home to where I picked up my husband (boys' daycare was hosting their monthly parents'night out) and took him to my boss's house for a dinner party. From there, I remember taking a tour, admiring the food and being handed a white sangria. I remember bits and pieces of the next few hours. My husband drove us home, so the boys were never in danger. Whew! But I fell asleep on my boss's couch. With like 10 friends around. Colleagues from work. Their spouses. Their children. I freaking fell asleep!
I was not naked. I didn't throw up. I didn't offend anyone or talk dirty. But I blacked out.
I have apologized to my boss and his wife and they were both super cool about it. My boss's wife just said "I've never seen you like that before" and laughed. We've known each other for almost 10 years. But I know its not cool. I know thats not the person I want to be. And I have been obsessed with it since that night. In fact, although I'm sure I was safely in bed by 10:30 that night, I woke up at 2:30 and could not go back to sleep. I have barely slept every night since then. It felt better to talk to them today. It feels good to get it off my chest here. Okay, maybe not good. But somehow like I can let go of all the negative self talk. And the self hatred. All the worry that THIS is going to be the thing that takes away this wonderful life that I have.
I do not drink every day. I do not get drunk every time I drink. I can have one drink and stop. And not really think about it. I can have two drinks and just be done. Somewhere after two drinks things get a little hazy.
I say the wrong things when I'm sober, so I'm afraid of the things - mean, spiteful things - that may come out of my mouth when I'm drunk.
Friday night, I was drinking on an empty stomach while I had my period and while taking some bronchitis medication. All a bad combination. And I could blame it on that random combination. But I've drank on an empty stomach before. I've blacked out before. I've done this before. Maybe not in front of these people, or in this same exact way. But I have been in this place where the next day I don't remember what I said, or how I got home. It was tacky when I was 22. And its pathetic at 34.
I don't even like to be drunk. It's never my intention. I prefer to be in control at all times. But every once in awhile. Every 20th time I drink, or maybe every 50th, there's no rhyme or reason. Every once in awhile it doesn't go well. I haven't killed anyone. I haven't completely ruined any friendships. But I have put myself in a position that I don't like. Been a person I do not want to be.
I don't know if I will ever drink again. My husband thinks I'm being a little extreme. Maybe I will have a one-drink limit. But even the thought of that scares me. I guess what Friday night did was scare me. It took me back to the place of before the boys were born when I wrecked my car. Like I've been granted a wake-up call. And its something I really need to pay attention to.
So, this is scary. I'm about to hit "publish post" and its scarier than the time I posted my weight (still hovering around 180 despite exercise and Lean Cuisine, BTW). I think this is a very scary thing to post on a blog that could somehow be tied to me in real life. To admit this weakness. To let my guard down. But I wanted to share it here. For those of you who are still reading.
I'm afraid to ever drink again. Because it may be fine. I may have just one. Or I could have just one too many. And I don't want to be that girl.
Monday, July 11, 2011
Wednesday, June 29, 2011
Sunday, June 5, 2011
Alive and Will
Will had his hydrocele repair on Friday. During explorator surgery on his right side they discovered a hernia. I was once again overhwelmed by the kindness and complimentary nature of our surgeon and his staff. They marveled over Will and his eyes, and his hair, and his patience during this ordeal.
Here is a shot of Daddy and Will in pre-op:
Will woke up very agitated and concerned about the thing that kept stats on his toe and the IV in his hand. He could hardly enjoy his popsicle! But has been an absolute trooper since his surgery and is pretty much off his meds since about 5am this morning.
I love that little boy. I prayed for him during surgery. And he came out blowing and going just like his little self. Despite doctors' orders, he did not slow down for one minute due to this little setback. He enjoyed the blow up pool in our back yard. He enjoyed biting his brother, and stealing his fair share of the new toys I bought them while they were napping.
Here is a shot of Daddy and Will in pre-op:
Thank you, God, for blessing me with these two little lives. For the health we all enjoy. And for the life I never thought I'd live. I feel like I'm in some commercial for the 50's, only with updated appliances in my wonderful suburbs. Thank you for this time.
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