I am emotionally drained after two relapses.
On the whole, they were relatively minor in that they lasted roughly three days each. But boy did I get a lot of alcohol down my throat in those two days.
The first required a brief trip to the hospital not so much because I needed to detox, but because my anxiety was so high and I didn’t feel safe enough to calm myself down through any means other than medication.
I thought that was the end of it: a blip that is almost inevitable in early recovery, brought on by facing the very emotional task of finally emptying my storage locker six years after he died.
I quickly recovered, and that was that…or at least that’s what I thought.
Having been off work for nearly a year I felt ready to go back and so applied for a dream job: something part-time in the field I am most passionate about (audio) that would give me some steady income while allowing me to continue to work freelance.
Less than an hour into my first day, my nerves got the better of me.
Actually, my head got the better of me:
I can’t do this. I’m not good enough. I don’t even have the right tools to do the job. These people are so much younger and so much cooler than I am, I do not belong in a funky hipster co-working space, I am not good enough, I am not good enough, I am not good enough, I am not good enough…
And off I ran to the off license for “just a small drink to calm my nerves so I can do my job”.
Then another. Then another. Then so many I had to make up some bullshit story I can’t remember to excuse myself from work before they discovered (did they really not know??) that I was pissed.
Filled with self-loathing I headed home where I drank more and more and more until the next thing I knew my family was and for me that means writing: getting what’s inside of me out there. Owning my shit and sharing it.
It helps me, hopefully it will help someone else.
In the meantime I am still extremely raw and vulnerable, and this is all I can bear to own up to. I’m just happy I made it back to a place where I can write again.
Glad you’re keeping at it. It’s all part of a crazy, unique and trying – but oh so rewarding – journey.
Thank you. The alternative is pretty unappealing, even if in the short term my brain still wants it. I watched alcohol destroy my dad, but he never tried to battle it. At least, I don’t think he did. Luckily, I am more stubborn than he is, and I am not ready to throw in the towel yet. Gonna head over to your blog after my meeting. Take care and thanks for dropping by x