I guess, if I were being honest, I’d have to say I am the kind of person who enjoys being alone in a remote cabin in the woods. I am writing from one now. If you met me, you would not think of me as some solitary, grizzly gal. I shave my legs, I carry on lively conversations when needs be. I can even be the life of a party if I put my mind to it…

But since I got sober, I enjoy my solitude even more…

I used to start all my drinking stories with “I ended up,” As if I were cast ashore by a tempest or airdropped into the calamities that befell me. As if I were not responsible for my misadventures – tossed in by a capricious God. But since I got sober, I take full control of my actions and full culpability for my frailties. It is freeing and a bit disarming.

Kind of like the time I was getting ready to move from our first house and I was packing up the attic. I found boxes and suitcases full of my husband’s old socks and dented golf balls. In the seven years we had lived on Lamplighter Lane, he had never thrown away a pair of argyles or a golf ball. He was a box-keeper. I suppose it’s better than bags of human hair, but you think you know someone…

What about when you surprise yourself?

It’s weird enough when the surprising behavior happens with someone else, but what if you surprise yourself? The fact is, that after all I have read about “the opposite of addiction being connection’, I want to be alone. Not all the time. It’s not like I am a recluse or even want to wear animal skins and hole up and grow my finger nails like Howard Hughes.

But after a long day at the office, or after a vacation where I am with family or friends 24/7, I want (need) to slink off somewhere solo and recharge. I don’t want to have to apologize for that.

So how does it fit with my sobriety?

But how does this work with my sobriety? Isn’t someone frowning right now into their tablet and thinking, Oh boy – she’s headed for a fall… Isolation is the bugaboo of the addicted set. You cannot be sober and isolated. Cabin in the woods? Alone? Kiss of death… Get thee to a meeting…

But remember naysayers, there are many paths to recovery. And there is a big difference between isolation and solitude. I’ve written about it, so I know. If you are an introvert or a loner, sobriety can be an additional challenge. But in taking responsibility for my actions, I have also accepted my idiosyncrasies. It feels to me like the definition of “recovery” and it does not preclude social time or group meetings.

Careful…

For the solitary, grizzly sober folk, the key is routine and forced community. Does that sound like an oxymoron? And we must never go off the grid or not be available by email or phone. Periods of solitude should be limited and the recovery tools that serve everyone else with a substance use disorder, are particularly important. I have yet to stay in a remote cabin that doesn’t have a “secret” booze cabinet, for example. The evil little devil on the shoulder can whisper in your ear, “Who would know?” And who, but you, would hear?

Most importantly, I do not recommend a stint alone in the woods for the newly sober. Why test yourself? You’ve been through a lot…

As I navigate this sober life, I learn more about myself every day. I like the fact I can tell the world I am content all by myself. I am thrilled I have finally begun to understand what makes me tick (speaking of cabins in the woods…). And I am confident I have developed the tools to do what I like, but also mitigate my natural tendencies to isolate.

At least I don’t hoard old socks…

The post I’m Solitary Sober… What Kind of Sober are You? first appeared on Waking Up The Ghost - Alcohol Recovery.

I spent three hours yesterday lying in the Puerto Rican sun. On a lounge chair and in a bathing suit. I haven’t done that in years, but I felt the need for some Vitamin D and it was windy enough to be comfortable – not too hot. Happily, I am past the point where relaxing seaside also means getting drunk and sunburnt. I apply my number 30 and hydrate.

Mojitos and Mai Tais and Margaritas, oh my….

What is it about sitting beside the ocean that drains away all the accumulated stress? My senses are overwhelmed. The cobalt sky with cloud sculptures floating by; the salt breeze and intermittent blaze of sun; the clean washed, dreaminess of a lounge chair catnap. And the air, laden with faraway flowers, breathed in to the tips of my lungs. Even the water tastes better…

So, why do you think so many people drink alcohol on seaside vacations? Even using “vacation” as an excuse or an explanation for over-drinking or pouring the first adult beverage in the morning? Why has a tropical setting been such a trigger for me in the past? And while I’m in a questioning mood, how many calories are there in a margarita*?

Fixing things that are not broken…

Let’s recap. And I can do this without sounding preachy because I spent the better part of eight years pie-eyed, while living in The Bahamas. Getting drunk on vacation is like the old adage “don’t fix it if it ain’t broke”. When you think about it, it doesn’t make sense…

I’m not talking about the heady pleasure of summoning a cute waiter for a single, decadent, poolside pina colada. Not even talking about a tipsy night clubbing, if you can handle it. I’m talking about anesthetizing. Impairing the senses being bombarded with all that natural splendor.

Here’s what I like about being sober on vacation:

1. My Beach Bag

There is no need to carry a small cooler anymore. No baggy with ice and insolated cup of wine. No clunk, clunk of wine shooters because 30 ounces of chard is not enough. I throw in one bottle of frozen water, one bottle of cold – easy.

2. Morning

I love sober mornings. A cup or two of coffee, fruit and gear up for the killer, PR hills. You may not have a best friend like mine, so this may not be as important to you, but I do not want to be hungover on a hike with Kim.

3. Feeling, seeing, smelling, tasting, remembering…

4. Best Behavior

Vacation brings out the “silly” in most folks. When you add three bottles of wine to the holiday mix, silly becomes sloppy. And oftentimes, with me, sloppy became ugly. Like the opening scene in Jaws, ugly…

5. Dozing vs Passing Out

There is nothing so wonderful as dozing by the ocean. But when you’ve had too much to drink in the sun and heat, it’s another story. Mouth open, snoring, slack faced – waking with a dry mouth and a thick head.

6. The Cumulative Effect

I could go on, but the fact is, vacation is just better for me now that I’m sober. It’s the cumulative effect. I’m a better friend, a better house guest (thank you Claudio and Kim), and a more enthusiastic and appreciative tourist. I’m healthier.

It’s All Good

I think everyone should have the opportunity to do exactly what they want to do on vacation. We all deserve to relax and rejuvenate. But one of the things I have learned in the last three years of sobriety, is that using alcohol to dull the rage, depression and pain, also dulls the good stuff.

And for me, the lazy, hazy, vacay Bahamian expression “it’s all good” to explain away my previous bad behavior, does not wash. It’s not “all good” when you can’t control yourself. It is not “all good” when you make a fool of yourself (again)… I am so grateful for these few days in Puerto Rico. I am so happy to be in the present and accountable. Feeling, seeing, smelling, tasting, hearing  a vacation without booze.

Now that’s “ALL GOOD”…

*Up to 850 calories! Yikes!

The post Feeling, Seeing, Smelling Vacation Without the Booze first appeared on Waking Up The Ghost - Alcohol Recovery.

I think it’s universal that people who are in active addiction feel a sense of urgency. There is always the need for “more”. It’s why we hide wine bottles in winter boots. It’s why we look around sheepishly, and polish off the dregs of other people’s drinks while they are in the bathroom. There is an emptiness that needs filling. The necessity of finding the next fix is all.

Monkeys Don’t Make Great Pets…

The analogy of the monkey on your back is an apt one. Addiction is like a hungry, messy, unwieldy primate playing piggyback. And if you’ve ever known anyone with a pet monkey, you know they throw poop. They are not charming companions. They climb humans like trees and dig through their hair for bugs with sharp claws…

I had someone write to me yesterday who had just been on a sober vacation. She said it was the first time in years she had been to the beach without a giant sippy-cup filled with iced wine. And she didn’t stub her toes or act a fool or have that continuous, lowgrade worry she’d run out of liquor on a remote island.

That’s it in an oyster shell. She was not carrying the need for more like a portable cooler (or a hairy beast). How freeing!

Hiding, Lying and Monkey Business…

And it’s not just vacation. I hear from people all the time who take a sippy-cup roadie while they walk their baby in a stroller. Or hide liquor in a coffee cup so the “kids won’t know”. They leave bottles in the wheelwells of cars, or tuck shooters in the side pockets of purses. Stash a pint in the desk drawer, just in case. It’s exhausting to be this devious and dependent.

One of the greatest things about sobriety is the reduction of stress. There is no more need for lies, excuses or the hiding of vodka in golf bags in the basement. Gone are the machinations – I’d better make sure I stash an opened bottle in my closet, behind the heavy coats. I don’t want anyone at the party to know I fill my wine glass every time I take a pee, but I don’t want to have to wait till they all leave to get good and drunk.

You know the old saying, “No one is smart enough to lie”? Add drunk to the mix and you forget where you hid the booze, because you were in the bag when you hid it. It’s horrible – lie upon lie upon lie. Just like carrying something heavy on your back.

When we get sober, the bad monkey is gone. Everyone thinks they want a pet monkey.

Until they have a pet monkey…

The post Excuse Me Madam, There’s a Monkey on Your Back… first appeared on Waking Up The Ghost - Alcohol Recovery.

Is this corny? Because I don’t feel corny. I feel hopeful and I think this is a sunset, not a sunrise and sunsets are less cheesy than sunrises, somehow – there’s a bit of melancholy…

 

“Now – Bring me that horizon…” ― Jack Sparrow

 

I was going through some old photographs on my computer yesterday, and I came upon a snippet of video, taken on my boat in the Exumas. It appears to be a mistake – a butt dial or the push of the wrong button and it is excruciatingly short, but it brought back a flood of fond memories.

Looking forward…

After the weekend I spent feeling sorry for myself, I was searching for an image that would represent “looking forward” with hope. Yesterday was a great day and I wanted to write a post about moving on – rallying after a meltdown. What better metaphor is there than a boat, heading out on a new adventure, looking at the horizon and not the wake?

 

 

I am amazed at the human being’s ability to rally. I  am awed every day by those who write to me, facing hardship, fear, temptation, sorrow and the jackboot of discouragement. As we go forward on this journey (some of us with the added burden of craving another drink) all we can do is look forward.

Facing fear…

I’d like to say, “Without fear,” but that’s not it, is it? It is not the lack of fear, but the facing of fear that makes us strong. Makes us who we are – and looking forward at the horizon, not the wake…

 

“To reach a port we must set sail –
Sail, not tie at anchor
Sail, not drift.”
― Franklin D. Roosevelt

 

Today I’m not drinking because I am setting sail.

 

How come you’re not drinking?

The post A New Horizon… first appeared on Waking Up The Ghost - Alcohol Recovery.