Karen's Blog 19/09/2021

Hard Times                                    14th September 2021

   

When I first started this journey I wrote.  Reams and reams of ‘stuff’.  It wasn’t in any sort of order.  None of it made much sense.  But it got some of the cr*p out of my head.

Some nine months later, I have condensed those writings into a journal of sorts (luckily, I had dated my scribblings as they were all over the place in several different notebooks).

Now I’m more at ease with myself so I write when I feel I have something to say and once a month, preferably on the 18th – the anniversary of my first Alcohol-Free day I have a “Check-In” day.  The idea being, that it lets me look back over the last four weeks, at what’s been good, and what’s not.  It’s an idea that’s evolving as I go along:-

18th September    268 days A.F        I am not well

19th September    Check-In day        #3

I’m recovering from some sort of viral “thing” which may (or may not) have been Covid related.  My Lateral Flow’s have come back negative but my symptoms (severe headache, not relieved by over-the-counter medication, sore throat, fatigue, “jelly” legs, dizziness, heart palpitations), all suggest otherwise.

After eight days of feeling steadily worse and worse I am finally beginning to feel a little better.

I was gutted that I couldn’t make the HSC lunch yesterday, but there was no way, having woken up at 5.45am with a migraine, that that was going to happen.

Generally, over the last month things at home have definitely slipped.

Having spent time and money to make upstairs ‘my space’, I’m spending more time downstairs, but I’m not sure why.  Hubby is trying hard to be amiable and interested in what I am doing but doesn’t understand that it’s the emotional connection that is missing.

I’m coming to realise that self-care and self-comfort are two very different things.  Self-care is, actually, quite simple to achieve if one puts their mind to it and allows themselves the time to practice it.

Self-comfort on the other hand is much more difficult to deal with.

When one is sitting on the beach, contemplating walking into the water, wanting everything to just go away – how? How does an alcoholic find comfort if not in a bottle?

I have no comfort mechanism.  I have no one at home to give me a hug and tell me that everything will be alright.

Up until 9 months ago my comfort, my only sense of relief, came from a bottle.  Now, there is no relief.  From any of this.  And I no longer know what to do about it.

I don’t want to throw in the towel, either way.  The thought of waking up with a scummy mouth and a sore head is way beyond what I want, but equally I don’t want to live in my world as it is.  It’s too hard.  The effort of it makes me cry.  Nearly Every Day.

I’ve just looked back at my priority list from 18th August - #1 still stands:-

To remain alcohol free.

I failed at #2&3:-

Get back to eating more fresh fruit and veg (#2)

To have meaningful conversations with the other half (#3)

I guess I’ll just have to try harder.  

  

   

Karen Brown

19/09/2021