Cheers

The thoughts that will soon pour onto this page have been rumbling through my head for going on 8 months now. One minute, I want to shout this from the rooftop and another I feel like it’s no one’s damn business besides my own. For a few months, I’d come to terms with the idea that this was not an announcement worth making to the internet but after hours upon days upon months of careful consideration, I have come to realize just how important this next sentence could be not only for myself, but anyone else who reads it.

I am an alcoholic.

Two years ago, driving home from a baby shower, wasted, I totaled my car. The following day I stepped into the rooms of a well-known 12-Step meeting for the first time ever. Unfortunately, that stint didn’t stick. I lasted a whopping 32 days in the rooms before I decided my relationship with alcohol was not yet over. I went back to the 12 Steps about a year late for approximately 1 week. Yet again, I wasn’t ready to be sober. It wasn’t until April 10th of 2019 that I decided I needed those 12 Steps in my life and was ready to stop drinking. This time, nothing as catastrophic or crazy happened. Nothing other than I’d had yet another guy tell me that he didn’t want to be in a relationship with me and I decided to numb the pain that comes with a breakup with a bottle (or two) of wine. Downing an entire bottle+ of wine per night was becoming a fairly normal part of my daily routine. I might go a day or two throughout the week where I’d only have a glass or two, but a bottle didn’t last in my home much longer than 24 hours.

When I realized how bad my drinking had gotten, I had this very odd outer body experience where I could see myself sitting on the couch, slouched over from being so drunk. I could see how pale green and droopy my skin was. It had happened a couple of times in the past 2-3 years where I’d start vomiting in my sleep; sometimes someone was there to wake me up, and at least once, no one was there but someone or something was watching over me and I’d be lying on my side and the vomit would land on the floor rather than choking me to death. I knew if I didn’t stop drinking, it was only a matter of time where someone would find me in a pool of my own vomit (or worse) after a night of out of control drinking.

The first 3 months of sobriety were such a rollercoaster. One minute, I’d feel on top of the world and would want to tell everyone I knew that I was getting sober and wanted to help anyone I could from ever consuming a drop of alcohol ever again. Then there would be times where I would scream cry in rage at the fact that I’d had such a rough, frustrating day and I couldn’t relieve those feelings with a glass (or bottle) of Trader Joe’s two buck chuck (my personal drink of choice).

There are certain things one is not supposed to talk about as it pertains to previously mentioned well known 12-Step program  and while I respect the principles that Bill has put in place for us drunks, if it weren’t for my other sober friends being so open about their sobriety, I don’t know that I would have had it in me to even make it to my first meeting [back]. Which is exactly why these words are out in the open for you and anyone else to read. I hope that if anyone I know (or don’t know) is struggling with addiction, you read this knowing that you are not alone, and that sobriety isn’t as bad as you might think.

Thank you to the people I knew from my past who have been open about their substance abuse issues (and their recovery), you helped get me here today. To the family I’ve been able to open up to about this, thank you for loving me in spite of the hot mess I was and will undoubtedly continue to be, even through sobriety. To the people who were hurt as a result of my drinking, I’m sorry. I owe a great deal of people a longer more thoughtful apology and hope to have the opportunity to do that someday.

To anyone reading this who has ever tried or even just considered getting sober, I hope for your sake as well as all of your loved ones around you, that you can find the strength. I won’t lie to you, some days are really, really hard. Some days you’re going to want to say, “fuck it”, and go pick up the bottle. But when you’re ready to fight back against all of that and try this way of life, even if it’s just one day at a time, I will be here for you if you need a hand to hold, a shoulder to cry on, someone to yell at or laugh with… Whatever you might be feeling in that moment.

Not every day is sunshine and roses now just because I quit drinking. But as I sit here and write this on the 255th day of my sobriety, all I have is gratitude for everything that led me here and infinite gratitude for everything that has kept me here.

If you were someone who needed to read these words to have the courage to walk into a meeting, I’m thankful this hit home for you. If you are a normy who doesn’t need to work a program to keep your drinking at bay, say a prayer for the rest of us who do need this and be thankful it’s kept us alive.

Stumbles and the City

I'm still off online dating, and I'm still a hermit... so while these dating antidotes may be far and few in between, I'll try to humor you any chance I get.

So let me tell you a little bit about my Saturday night....

If you know me but at all, you know that 2 drinks and I'm buzzed 4 drinks and I'm officially drunk anything past that and you can almost count on me not remembering half the night (oh the joys of getting older and more responsible). So it should come to no surprise to you that after two bottles of champange (yes, bottles) 1 jello shot, 1 vodka/soda (maybe two- that's still a little fuzzy) and one other shot that I really don't remember taking though there is photographic evidence of- I'm pretty lit gone. Now, in my defense, all of this was consumed within a matter of 8 hours, but none the less down and down it went.

By the time everything was starting to come to an end, I was nowhere near my house and had no desire to make the drunken trek home. So I texted a friend that lived near where I was and asked if I could spend the night- thankfully, they agreed. But as soon as I made my slumber party plans, an equally drunk genius friend I was with decided we should try to get into the club across the street from where we were where one of our mutual friends happens to work.

Side note: I was wearing yoga pants, my grey Oregon Ducks sweatshirt and running shoes... I don't know where I got off thinking I'd be able to get in, but my liquid courage was enough to feel certain it wouldn't be an issue.

So there we are- Drunk 1 and Drunk 2 waiting in the foyer of the club waiting for the bouncer to find out if our friend is working. He comes back to tell us that she's not there, but we're persistent and say that he must be wrong so while he goes back to look a second time, we pretend that we're with a group of about 10 other guys that's walking in at that moment (without paying the $30/person cover charge, btw). Once we're in, the bouncer comes up to us and I think for sure we're busted and will be asked to leave- nope! Just laughs and points us to coat check.

Another side note: Drunk 2 and I were coming from a potluck and had a ton of leftovers with us. Have you ever asked if you could check a 6 pound Tupperware of pasta salad? It's great.

So now we're in and Drunk 2 asks me what I want to drink. I've been here before and know that the drinks are hands down the most expensive I've found in the city, but he's offering to pay so even though I know I shouldn't have any more I accept his offer (this is the first of the possible two vodka/soda's). After we finish our $25 drinks, we agree it's time to leave. So Drunk 2 and I collect my belongings... just mine. I find out the next day that Drunk 2 left their jacket and Tupperware full of pasta at coat check... it's just really starting to get good.

If memory serves me correctly, Drunk 2 and I share a cab for a few blocks (though I could have been alone, neither of us remembers clearly) and I ask the cabby to drop me off on the block that I think is my friends. At this point, my phone is dead, so I'm relying on my (fuzzy) memory to get me to my friend’s house (I've been there multiple times prior). I get out of the cab on the block that I swear is where I need to be... only, I don't see their front door anywhere.

I walk around the block for what feels like half an hour.

Nothing. I cannot find my friend’s house.

I step into a deli to ask if they have an iPhone charger so I can get the exact coordinates of my friends house, they claim not to have one. I try at least 3 other deli's, pizza places and bodegas before finally realizing a bar would be the perfect place to find a charger. Most bars have one, and thankfully, my drunken intuitions were right. So I bellied up to the bar and order a drink as I thought it would only be appropriate since they're being kind enough to charge my phone. I think.... to be honest, I know I drank water, but I may have had a vodka/soda here as well.

Anyway... dude on the stool next to mine starts chatting me up. I'm not particularly interested, but I don't want to be rude, and I need to pass the time while I wait for my phone to charge anyway.

Here is the jist of what I remember of our conversation-

me: "Where are you from?" he had a southern accent... I knew he wasn't from NY
him: "North Carolina, how about you?"
me: "Me too! Where exactly?" ok, I'm aware that I'm not from North Carolina, but I wasn't all that interested in giving this guy too much background information, and my parents and brothers live there, so it's sort of half true...
him: "Greensboro, where are you from?!"
me: "Greensboro! Small world, eh?"
me: "You have really nice teeth." -He really did!
him: "Ha! Thanks? How old are you?"
me: "How old are YOU?" - he doesn't look more than a few years older than my younger brother
him: "I'm 22. So are you going to tell me how old you are?"
me: "I'm 24."
him: "I'm not sure I believe you..."
me: "Do you want my phone number? Here's my phone number, you should call me sometime." -No. I did not give him a chance to give me an answer. And no, I was still not that interested.
him: "Ummmm, thanks. Here, here's my address. Do you want to come over?"
me: "NO! BYE!"

I promptly retrieve my phone from the bar tender and make my second attempt at finding my friend’s house.

I get lost, yet again.

But thankfully this time, I have enough juice in my phone to call them. I cannot for the life of me figure out why I cannot find the place, and make them come down stairs because I'm sure I cannot find this place without some giant flashing lights. My poor friend... I couldn't tell you what we talked about to save my life. All I know is I drank as much water as I could and passed out.

Here we are 3 days later and I still have yet to hear from Nice Teeth Guy and am pretty sure I won't. Definitely not disappointed by this either. I mean, who gives out their address?! And, he is 22. I am not 24 (thank god). I woke up feeling terrible (duh). I end up walking from my friend’s house on 83rd & 1st to the West side to get the subway home. It's a miracle I didn't throw up on my walk home.

Lesson learned here people: when you leave the house in sweats it because you don't want to go out and get crazy... so don't! HA!

Goals

Part I...
I don't know if anyone reads this anymore.... I kind of doubt it. If you stopped, I don't blame you.


When I started this blog, it was supposed to be all about my new and exciting adventures of life in the fast lane in New York City. Unfortunately, my life is a bit less than exciting or adventurous.

I go to bed between 9:15-10pm almost every night (even on the weekends...). I wake up anywhere between 4:40am-6am . Even on Sundays, I'm lucky if I can sleep in past 8am. I only go out about once a month, if even that. Every time I leave a Broadway show (which is almost never), I vow to myself that I'll go more often, but never do. I almost never drink anymore, except the random glass of boxed wine from home here and there (just keepin' it classy folks).
It's not to say that NYC isn't exciting anymore, I'm sure it is. But after 2.5 years, it's definitely lost its luster. I feel the nightlife is very “been there done that/same shit different day”. As a 28 year old, I just don't feel like I'm doing my generation justice by living my life in the way that I have been the past year or so. So, I'm sorry to all my mid-late 20-something people... I'd love to tell you that I'll try harder and really take advantage of NYC for all that its worth. But the truth is, I'm not changing, and I don't want to.

After having worked at a gym for about a year and a half, my interest in the health and wellness world/industry has really piqued. Realistically, I drink diet soda more than I should; I have a hard time resisting the jar of sweet & sour candy peaches that my office has in our kitchen; I love cheese and will never give that up; blah, blah, blah. But I am trying. A little while ago, I wrote out my goals for the next 6 months, 1 year, 3 years, 5 years and 10 years and I want to try my hardest to make sure that I accomplish them.

I am really making an effort to make sure that I have a healthy lifestyle that includes whole foods, adequate sleep, a workout routine I can live with, all while trying to juggle a social life sprinkled in there somewhere too.
Let me tell you, all of your granola eating, gym rat friends make it look wayyyyy too easy. I swear their lying. Because I've only recently been putting solid effort into trying to balance it all, and it's really hard... And my social life? Well it is pretty much non-existent.

I have been feeling guilty that I’m not making the most of this time in my life when I’m supposed to be young, carefree, do it all (and on no sleep) etc., etc., etc… I feel like I shouldn’t be allowed to live in New York City.
Thankfully, I’ve been doing a lot of reading lately about nutrition and realize that I just need to remind myself more often, that what I’m choosing to do and how I’m living my life right now, is probably the best thing I’ve done for myself- ever.

A lot of the other health/wellness/fitness bloggers that I try to keep up with have been posting their goals either daily, weekly, or monthly in attempts to help keep themselves accountable. So I’m going to go ahead and follow suit. However, this post has gotten long enough, so you’re going to have to check back in a few days for my Part II… I promise there will be one because I’ve already got it up and scheduled to post, I just didn’t want to bombard the people who actually might be reading this….

To be continued…

To drink or not to drink

That is the question...

This has been on my mind quite a lot lately. I’m not going to be drastic and make a claim that I’m going to stop drinking all together. Though I have thought about at least taking a month off. But the thing is, in general, I’m not a heavy drinker. So I don’t feel that by committing to taking just one month off would really do anything for me or teach me anything about whatever it is I’m needing to be taught right now. 

It’s no secret that alcohol is a depressant, and I feel like the last few times I have been drunk, I end up more upset than anything by the end of the night. Often crying. I feel like that has something to do with the fact that alcohol also lowers our inhibitions and while most of the time that’s a bad thing- all it does for me is just bring the truth about everything out. I think the reason why I cry when I’m drunk is because when I do drink, I’m finally letting myself feel whatever it is that I’m actually feeling but otherwise suppress. 

As a few (if not many) may already know- I have a really hard time controlling myself when it comes to drinking and texting, and as of lately, emailing. This is generally followed in the morning with a varying degree of regret. Sure, there are times when it’s just funny; but 99% of the time, I’m wishing I had listened to that little voice in my head telling me that sending that message might not be the best idea.  

I feel like to really make a difference in my life, I would have to completely stop drinking for an entire year- and honestly, that doesn’t even sound possible to me, nor does it really sound like something that I’m all that interested in doing. If I were to do it, it would have to be all or nothing. It wouldn’t be “oh a drink here, a drink there” or “just drinks on special occasions, birthdays, wedding, etc.”.

What’s funny, is I don’t even really like the taste of alcohol. I absolutely hate beer. I’m sorry- I just don’t understand what the big deal is. And frankly, I think people must be lying when they say they actually enjoy it. Yes, it tastes that bad to me. The smell of red wine makes me gag. The only things I actually enjoy (truly enjoy) are some white wines- yet I still have yet to find MY wine that I can order and know I’ll always love it; and the super frilly, girly drinks that usually tend to be blue, and probably have more ice and mixers in them than actual alcohol. 

I have also noticed recently that it doesn’t matter how much I drink, if it’s just one glass of wine or 6 cocktails, I’m hungover the next day. I know a lot of people will have just one drink to take the edge off, but if it’s going to make me feel like crap the next day, what’s the point?

I’m not sure what it is exactly that I’m hoping to really get out of this. I’m kind of just using this as my soap box. I’d really like to hear what other people have to say on this subject. Family and close friends, you need not be worried about me. I am not an alcoholic, or anything even remotely close to it- this has just been something that has been on my mind a lot recently. 

NYC is going good. Not great. But really, “great” never should have been an expectation. I’m realizing now that I probably should have set my bar of “ideal” a little lower, but all in all, things are good. I’ve been wanting to show you all what my new apartment looks like, but I want to wait until my room has some actual furniture (right now all I have is a bed- on the floor and a dresser, and lots of boxes). If you’re really dying to see it- I invite you to come for a visit! ;)

Thank you dearly for taking the time to read this. Especially this post. I think this may be one of the harder posts I’ve ever written. Lots of love to you each!