Road to Recovery
Day 38. Alcohol Free.
Good news, eh? I have been in and
out of sobriety all year. This one is
currently sticking. Not sure why. Can
only be a good thing.
I now go to recovery meetings. I had my first assessment on Tuesday 3rd
July. 5pm. There's a drop in centre in Dunstable - 5pm every Tuesday. Jumped on the bus and there I was sat in a tiny waiting room, filling in forms, doodling on a pad, waiting for someone to call my name.
Out comes this chap called Nolan. Nolan. Who knew that was a name? For the next half hour or so I told Nolan all my woes;
why I think I have a problem; etc etc.
He agreed I do have a problem. We
spoke about that. He told me the next
step would be he speaks to all the keyworkers there that week, they find the
right person for me so I have my own keyworker to come up with a plan together
(we all know how much I love plans), then someone rings me to arrange the next
appointment. Before we leave, however,
Nolan leads me to a little room at the back. What’s going on here? He hands me a cardboard tray type thing. “We need to do a drug and alcohol test. In you go.” “Oh. Right. Yes.” There
I was peeing into a cardboard tray which amazingly perfectly fitted to my V. I
then walk back into the room, tray in hand, where Nolan is waiting, gloved up,
ready to take my liquid. Amazing. He then proceeds to put strips of things in
the tray, tells me what they’re all for, waits for the results. Guess what…clean as a whistle. Excellent!
The next day I get a call from a
lady, Lorraine, who would be my keyworker.
We arranged an appointment for the following Tuesday. This is good.
To celebrate, I got drunk for three days that weekend.
I was still drinking the
following week. Saw Lorraine. She asked all the same questions I’d been
asked the week before, getting to
know me. We came up with a plan. Lorraine has said not to look at not drinking as forever. We currently have an end point - Snowdonia Marathon 2018 (yes, that's happening again). It's a good excuse: "why are you not drinking?" "Oh, I'm training for a marathon." Until then, one day at a time.
Told her I’d been drinking the week before She gave me some exercises to try to resist the coming weekend. That didn’t work. I was drunk again. During this, I did have a moment, however. I won’t go into this, but by the Saturday evening, I was done. I was so bored of drinking. What’s the point of this? I said to myself. I had my last drop of alcohol at about 1pm on Sunday 15th July. It was a swig of my brother’s Becks following the Fairlands Valley Half Marathon. I had hobbled around for four hours – this is another story – and was taking some painkillers. Ran out of water. Grabbed the first liquid near me. Swallowed. Done.
Told her I’d been drinking the week before She gave me some exercises to try to resist the coming weekend. That didn’t work. I was drunk again. During this, I did have a moment, however. I won’t go into this, but by the Saturday evening, I was done. I was so bored of drinking. What’s the point of this? I said to myself. I had my last drop of alcohol at about 1pm on Sunday 15th July. It was a swig of my brother’s Becks following the Fairlands Valley Half Marathon. I had hobbled around for four hours – this is another story – and was taking some painkillers. Ran out of water. Grabbed the first liquid near me. Swallowed. Done.
Since then I’ve been through
nights in the pub, my best friend’s 30th, a work do, meetings which
always take place in pubs and surrounded by booze, a pub crawl on bikes, a party in a field, all without drinking. Progress.
More recently I’d had a pretty
shitty day. The shitstorm of emotions I’d been having this year all
came out at once. It was the worst day. Think shaking, tears, panic, anger, more tears, more shaking. I hit my head on the table a lot that day. I was going
to the pub anyway after work and was ready to order myself a large wine, maybe a shot,
definitely a shot. Let’s get blackout
drunk. I stopped myself, however,
and manged to order a Bittburger Drive. 0%. Lovely.
I had a meeting with Lorraine
yesterday and told her all about this. First time I’ve cried with her. First time she's seen me have an "episode." She reminded me how well I’d done at
managing the reaction to the situation.
I didn’t get drunk. I didn’t have
a drink. I just carried on with life. How adult. She also said that being aware of the
triggers for drinking and managing those shows how far I’ve come. The emotions are still there, though.
She asked me to focus and to think about where I saw myself in a year. I couldn’t
answer. Six months? Nope.
Next week? Tomorrow? I may make a lot of plans…running, training, life…but with how this year
has gone…none of these plans have followed through and I am stuck. I cannot see a way out of what’s
going on in my head. I don’t want it
there anymore. I want it to stop. I want an end. It is exhausting. Me. I am exhausting. To myself. To others. It needs to stop.
Perhaps the reason I got blackout drunk all
the time was so I didn’t have to deal with myself. I could just be drunk. Go to work.
Go to the pub. Go to work. Go to the pub. I could always function. Why can’t I just carry on like that? Well…there’s no perhaps about it. The reason I was drunk ALL the time, was so I
didn’t have to take responsibility for anything, I didn’t have to deal with
myself. I could just…be. No tomorrow. Now I'm fully aware of the problem, I can't carry on. I’m currently still in that mind-set that I can’t see the tomorrow… I’m sober looking at blackness. How the
hell am I supposed to deal with that?
A couple of weeks ago I discussed
with Lorraine my sober stints from last year and how I am the same, drunk or
sober. I’m still Crazy Jen. “Why do people call you that?” “I call myself
that – I don’t know if people do, probably.” “Maybe don’t do that?” Anyway…we went through my behaviours, symptoms,
how I feel….drunk, sober, panicking. I
am now FINALLY getting a full mental health assessment – another long story,
but I’ve been asking my GP for this since November. Even went through a self-referral. Twice. Nothing came of it. Anyway. It’s happening. Two weeks.
Who knows what it will tell me.
Either there’s something wrong. Or there isn’t.
Whatever I am told…it’s something. And then I can be helped. I know I have to help myself. And I have to want this to happen – which I
do. But I don’t have the tools for
this. I need something. Anything. Anyone to say “Jen, this is what
you need to do. This is how we’re going
to do it.” I can’t do it all on my own. Eventually, maybe I’ll reach a point where I can
do it on my own. Not yet.
And that’s where I am. I’ve got lots more to talk about…running, not
running, injuries, challenges. I'm raising money for charity again. More on this later.
For now, I’m back to telling the internet
all the good, the bad and the down right ugly. This is me. My experience. My road to recovery...
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