Naltrexone cont.

A few weeks on Naltrexone and I feel conflicted. First off, I am spending $150-$300 on appointments that are not being covered by insurance and second off I really haven’t spoken about anything with my therapist other then her asking questions about my medications.

  1. I am pretty sure I can’t keep up with this cost, my credit card bill has become out of control and
  2. I am still drinking almost weekly.

So I don’t feel any real drive not to drink. For Example, I assumed the drug makes the cravings manageable but today for about 6 hours all i thought about was drinking and finally i just went to the store and got wine. It really hasn’t helped with cravings. Also, I can feel my insides hurting lately, like my lower body just cramps and I wake up every day with a severe headache and thats not from drinking. I also recently drank a bit more than I have been (roughly two bottles of wine) and I was hallucinating. I was hallucinating that I was in a camp being murdered and when i got in bed I imagined (hallucinated?) that my fiancé was a guard that had to watch me from getting away.

This literally scares me away from this drug. I don’t care how blacked out I have ever been I have NEVER thought someone I loved would hurt me. I was so scared and kept telling myself to lie still cause if he attacked me I would have to kill him and its like had he cuddled me in that moment would i have done something that couldnt be fixed???? Like no thanks! I know this doesn’t make you a “regular” drinker but I also feel no desire not to.

Fuck this is scary and its always scared me to ever be on drugs, like I am literally afraid of my mind on prescription drugs (I know alcohol is a drug but for some reason it has always seemed manageable).

My doctor prescribed me an antidepressant and I have had it for over a week but I just don’t want to take it. I know why I’m depressed and I know how to fix it and that aint a pill. I don’t workout anymore and I used to workout intensely 7 days a week. I work 8 hours a day refreshing a yahoo screen because I’m not challenged and i don’t care to be challenged anymore in the position I’m in. I let any setback take hold of my imagination. i know the shit that makes me sad and living on a happy cloud isn’t going to make those things go away, it will just make me okay with my current life and I don’t want to be okay with that.

Fuck. I don’t know what to do. I feel like giving up on therapy is shitty but i really can’t afford it and i don’t really think this drug is worth it. I don’t ever want to wake up to something I can’t undo because I hallucinate something crazy.

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Naltrexone

Another Holiday and a new excuse to get drunk…amirightoramiright??? Blah! Every time this season comes around I make so many promises to myself. I promise myself I will only have a little to drink with dinner (yeah fucking right) or I will just get plastered the night before so I will be too sick to drink the day of or-OR my ultimate favorite, just get shit faced and make an ass out of yourself, they have to keep loving you right??? Your family! I will give you one guess which one I chose…Get wasted prior and during. Logical decisions right? The only problem is I feel like absolute garbage for all family events and the whole not drinking that day due to feeling like a big ole turd turns into drinking just to feel human again. This year was no different, I decided to get wasted both families thanksgiving as to absolutely miss everything fun about the holidays and then wallow in shame in bed trying to nurse my hangover…So much for a 4 day weekend.

So I am trying something new and something that scares the shit out of me.

Hellllllooooo Naltrexone.

IMG_0458.JPGOk, so quick overview. I was listening to a radio lab on NPR and heard this one episode called “The Fix” It was about this doctor that was pretty much ready to kill himself because his addiction was so strong (I am sure many of you can relate) anyways I can’t remember the exact combination he took but I think it consisted of Baclofen and something else, just listen to the episode here: http://www.radiolab.org/story/addiction/ it will make much better sense then me trying to remember the details.

Long story short he took these drugs and at some point was cured. Like never wanted alcohol again!!! LIKE IM SORRY, COME AGAIN?!? NEVER WANTED ALCOHOL AGAIN!

Anywho, I found a local psychiatrist that prescribes some of the other drugs out there that treat addiction (who knew these existed???? FUCK all you other drug counselors out there that never gave me options) I met with her and she basically was like you are an amazing candidate for this. She prescribed me Naltrexone and Baclofen. I haven’t taken the Baclofen yet as she said it is for anxiety and since I am basically a human ball of anxiety and I am not sure if I want to be medicated all the time I am going with one drug at a time. Also drugs scare the living bejeezus out of me, I know, makes no sense I will drink myself into a coma but taking a Tylenol takes some serious decision making (I would absolutely love to see an MRI of my brain)

So, I have Naltrexone and I have taken two doses so far. I can’t say I feel any differently other than yesterday I kind of wanted to stop at the store for a bottle or 4 of wine but it passed really quickly and my mind kind of went we should get wine, nah…ok.  I have to go get blood work done and see her once or twice a month for actual therapy sessions but so far so good. I will follow up with my experience. So stay posted!

A No good night very bad kinda night

What a night…Not in a good way! I got first hand experience with my biggest fear of this sobriety thing.

Our anniversary was last night and we planned to do dinner and a movie. I wanted Xmen but he wanted to see Independece Day. We spent the entire day moving and packing and I was pretty excited to relax. I took a shower and proceeded to get dressed. He was taking a little longer and being goofy even though it was almost 6 and the movie started at 7:30. I was getting annoyed because the movie started in an 1 1/2 hours and I knew the drive was about 20 minutes and the chances of grabbing dinner on a saturday evening was dwindling. I am not a happy camper when I’m hungry and I really didnt want my stomach growling the whole movie. We finally got out the door around 6:30. I knew something was really wrong when he started driving. He hit the curb on the way out and seemed slow. I thought maybe he just got high…(*sidenote: he smokes weed. I don’t have an opinion on weed. I don’t really see any downsides to people smoking weed it just isn’t my cup of tea. I think it smells and anytime I have ever tried it I feel the need to pee the entire time. Not a good time for me so I avoid it) any who he started talking to me and I kept trying to explain where we were going and that we needed food before we get there. He was swerving in and out of lanes and crossed three lanes in front of people without a signal. To say I was scared to death is an understatement. He proceeded to tell me in broken slurred english the guy who he buys weed from gave him a xanax to help him “chill out” from our moving day. We ended up driving around aimlessly because he wouldnt listen to me about finding food and I couldn’t persuade him to pull over the car and let me drive. Finally we just went to the movie theatre and went in starving to sit there for 30 minutes. I was already so annoyed. I literally had to say “what are you saying” about a million times. In the movies he inhaled nachos, popcorn, and a Dr. pepper slushy which he preceded to throw behind him after he finished them and fell asleep. He was snoring and would wake up and yell something every so often.

After the movie I woke him up and told him to give me the keys. Thankfully he handed them over. I drove home listening to him mumbling random things and falling in and out of sleep. He got in bed as soon as we got home leaving me to walk the dogs and passed out. I slept like crap last night because he kept snoring and talking in his sleep and I just didnt want to be in the same vicinity as him and now the day I had planned to go see my niece, workout, and get ready for the week is going to have to be put on hold because I can’t keep my eyes open and my head is killing me. I resent him a little today and that is not something I want to feel after a date night.

This morning he apologized profusely but when I told him what he said and did he laughed it off and said well I’m sure it wasn’t funny last night but it is kind of funny today. I still don’t think it is funny at all. I had a horrible anniversary and felt like I was babysitting a drunk idiot all night long. I have always feared that being a sober person would make me judgmental and after reading numerous blogs about relationships working between sober and non sober people I was thrust right into the most negative part. He has never done this and he is never out of control or maybe I never thought he was because I was way more out of control then him but regardless I don’t have the patience for it. I really hope this isn’t the new norm and I know I have been that person countless times so I feel like such a hypocrite. Ugh okay time to hit the reset button. Back to bed

Itty bity juice boxes

Cooking is one of my stress relievers, I could call it my meditation my happy place. I get lost in the tastes and smells and seasoning and searing and plating and garnishing! Something about serving the ones you love something that comes from the heart is so rewarding. I spend a hell of a lot of money on this experience probably close to $80 a week. The problem is cooking has always been synonymous with wine, lots of wine. Yesterday I was challenged. I wanted to make Seafood Paella, this in itself is not the problem, its the 1/2 cup of white wine that was the issue. During my anesthetized days I would be sure to look up recipes that called for wine. Oh shoot I need a 1/2 cup of wine for this sauce, better get three bottles so I have enough…you know…for the recipe.

I mulled it over at work for a few hours. What if I just use chicken stock and not wine? No, wine is part of what makes it delicious and am I always going to have to avoid recipes with alcohol involved? What if I buy like cooking wine? You know better than that, food network has told me on many occasions that you only cook with something you would want to drink….Well…Shit

Hey, but who knew that you could buy a single serving of wine in a tiny bottle? Not me,  I mean I guess I knew that, I have seen mini bars at hotels I just wouldn’t imagine in my wildest dreams why anyone would get A, 1, UNO bottle of wine. Whats the point?

As I waited in line I learned a new mental strategy while looking at this tiny little box of wine, kinda like a juice box, Whats the fucking point? Really what is the point to getting drunk and causing chaos. The juice in this tiny juice box is really something that is controlling me, causing me so much angst?

I bought some stuff to make Fauxhitos (Fake Mojitos, I just came up with this term don’t steal it!). It really hit the spot. I don’t like liquor at all (I know, weird, an alcoholic that would turn down liquor, its just never been my thing) so I really didn’t miss the rum but it felt good to have a fancy drink while whipping up this meal, made me feel classy and definitely took my mind off of wine.

Next time I have a yearning to check out of life I am going to try to remember to tell myself “whats the point?” what are you trying to achieve? “Need a break, eat a snickers or take a walk or make a fauxhito and color your extra cool adult coloring book.

P.S. Have you seen the weird color of whats in children’s juice boxes, I’m just saying…

Happy Thursday!

 

A Wrinkle in Time

Holy Balls batman where did all this time come from. I have probably written a post about how much time you seem to gain when not consumed by massive hangovers or swimming through the evenings in a dense fog of drunkeness but look at that I can’t remember, and it would be to nauseating to search through all the other posts to see if I have, so here goes.

I tell you what, I am not the early bird gets the worm kinda gal. I normally roll into work at 9:30 and I’m exhausted by noon. I would work out in the evening then proceed to get blasted from 6- 11 shove food of sorts in my mouth deciding if its too late to go get another bottle. Usually i was more prepared and had enough to accomplish my task at hand. Hey, at least I was a forward thinking drunk. Waking up the next day I would curse my idiocy and slink into the office hoping no one would notice the wine stench emanating through my copious amounts of perfume.

Those were the days, and by that I mean days of mania. I never knew what my day would entail. I would call in to meetings instead of going to them just so my lack of self care wouldn’t be noticed. When I had to go to meetings I would sit quietly as not to be noticed and defiantly not breath on someone unless I had 10 pieces of gum in my mouth, well I wouldn’t really breath on people anyways cause thats just gross, but you get the point.

Anywho now a days time seems to passssss sooooo slowlllllly, I can’t decide if its a good thing or not. It gives me too much time to reconsider this new lifestyle but it also feels so great. Lately (I am not sure I will maintain this or want to, I’m still a sleep in kinda gal and will be fo life) I have been waking at 4:45, working out, heading into work by 7:15 well dressed and showered. I have made meetings with people I never would have contacted before and I am speaking up for myself. I head home at 5 or so and either get dinner started or lounge with the pups or take them to the dog park if it isn’t too hot. I am in bed by 10. Hell the other night I played some kinnect video game that I’m sure was for children working up a sweat only to go jump into the pool with my boyfriend until 10 pm. All Sober and so much fun and let me tell you the sex is phenomenal its like I just got a prescription for glasses and never knew I was legally blind. I hope this momentum continues.

I know there will still be boring days and days that I am sad or things just arent right, but those days won’t even compare to how bad the bad days used to be.

(P.S. My mom read me this book when I was little and I remember it being super creepy but I don’t remember the actual book so disregard if the title makes absolutely no sense to the post)

Toodles.

 

Is he finally done?

Its been a while. I have been avoiding blogging only because it didnt seem to work last time but in reality I am not sure I was ready for it to work. Giving up drinking is scary as shit. There are so many “what about’s”. What about birthdays and weddings and trips???How will I EVER stay sober? There are so many more reasons to drink than not, or at least i felt like there were. I can’t remember where I left off but i remember a lot of titles that said day 1 again, or it happened again, or some other semblance of “shit”. I don’t even want to look back at how long I have been at this, it makes a lump well up in my throat when I think about how much time I have lost that I will never get back.

The last straw was about two or three Thursdays ago? (I decided not to count this time, I figure since this is forever there is no point in keeping track) It really wasn’t even a huge event. My boyfriend and I finally got the case of wine we couldn’t find anywhere of this white wine that we had fallen in love with. I got home from work, passing my gym in a fury to get home and unscrew that cap as quickly as possible. I didn’t  care that I would get charged $12 for missing my workout class. My focus was on one thing and one thing only. You see my boyfriend was out with friends and that afforded me at least 3 or 4 hours of undisturbed oblivion. I mentally took stock of how much of that case we had left. 2 bottles from the case and one in the fridge of a special wine we bought together. I got inside and poured a drink before I even took the dogs to go to the bathroom. It felt like heaven. I could feel my body soaking up every ounce. I felt like i could finally breath and then I decided to get shit done. I normally really enjoy doing chores when I’m drunk. It makes it all seem so fun like I’m wonder woman and I can handle everything, the truth is usually the food I cook I burn, the stuff I organize is even more of a mess and the next day I have to undo what I messed up the night before. I started ironing, and cleaning up the place. I make calls to anyone I can think of and of course my grandma is the first one to pick up. She is the one person that can’t tell how drunk I am because she is 90 and that gives me license to speak my mind knowing she won’t remember half the things I say and rely it to my family.

(*Sidenote* I forgot to mention my dad was in the hospital at this time with a weird bug bite that was causing him issues but due to his severe alcoholism was in and out of consciousness and going through incredible withdrawals.)

I finish the first bottle and quickly open the 2nd. I know that time is of the essence because the boyfriend will be home soon and he will want to, god forbid, share the wine and i will have to begrudgingly pour him a glass. I can’t really remember the rest. I know I blacked out and remember fragments of crying and telling my boyfriend to leave me alone and somethings about how I am my father and will end up just like him and that he should leave me. The next morning he gets up and heads to work. I pretend to be sleeping so I can gauge his mood. When he leaves without kissing my forehead I quickly try to run through last night and piece together what happened. Did I break up with him? Threaten him? Tell him some other bullshit that has no truth attached?…Is he finally done? Has he finally had too much? FUCK.

I decided to take stock in myself. A lot of what I was crying about was actually a real possibility. I very much was on the trajectory of drunk, alone and sad just like my dad and it almost looked like I was okay with it. As long as my bottles of wine were with me, that really was okay with me in that moment. Who the fuck is okay with pushing everyone out of their life for an inanimate object? Whats wrong with me?

Gross Emotional Letter

My assignment from my therapist last week was to write a letter to my sister that outlines my resignations in regards to moving in with her as well as why I am excited about living with her.

A little backstory, I moved in with her my last year of college because I had a tool for a landlord that stopped paying his mortgage so the bank seized the property and evicted all of the tenants the week before finals. She just bought a house about 10 minutes from campus with 3 bedrooms so I moved in. Her DOUCHE bag boyfriend lived there and we DID NOT GET ALONG. In some ways it was my fault, I was drinking heavily every night living there (insert dumbass rationalizing for why i drank heavily here…college was ending during a really bad recession, I was working at a surgical vet clinic with no prospects of a grown up job in sight and animals dropping dead of horribly sad illnesses every day, My high school sweetheart of 5 years moved away but wanted to keep me on hold without any commitment, see i told ya. I got excuses!) Anywho we did not get a long. He is and has always been a very chauvinistic pig. He would kick the dogs and would tell me how woman needed to do all the chores in the house. Just  a really not nice person but she has been with him now for 14 years and if I have learned one thing, it is that you cannot change people. I moved out the day I graduated and moved with my friend to Colorado. I have been here ever since and now I am headed back to a different city but same situation in Texas, and a newborn…

None of the issues have anything to do with my sister, she is and has always been basically my mom and the responsible one of the whole family. I mentioned in an earlier post that my parents were very lackadaisical when it came to parenting and when i was on a course for disaster my sister was the one to step in, not my parents. I actually live really well with her, we get along very well and are on the same wavelength. Any who i should get on to the letter. I am not sure why I need to write this because he told me i wasn’t actually going to give it to her, maybe its to become aware of the issues that i foresee and then to actually work them out in my brain before they happen? I don’t know.

Feel free to stop reading now if you don’t want to read the letter. I am just too lazy to start a new word document 🙂

Sister:

So i know that we have lived together before and as much as I absolutely love being around YOU and living with YOU. I don’t think you realize that the last time we lived together, it was the darkest and most self destructive time in my life.

Most of it had to do with the fear of graduating and having nothing lined up compounded with working at the vet and watching countless animals suffer and die on a daily basis and add to that my really rocky relationship with Steven and his stringing me along, I can say I was not in a good place during those years and I felt like I was suffocating.

i don’t believe it necessarily had anything to do with where I was living as much as it had to do with my mindset and mental attitude towards life. I know that me being financially responsible for myself has been a huge struggle for me. I never wanted to rely on anyone to support me but I have always allowed you and dad to bail me out and support me for so long that I don’t have the slightest appreciation for money.

When we lived together I did not pay rent or anything to help support the household. I am not quite sure when it happened that I started believing other people “owe” me a living or how I became this person that feels entitled. I unfortunately believe I have taken after mom in that respect and feel like my continued financial instability has diminished a lot of my self worth.

I think my biggest fear (and probably yours) is becoming like mom or dad. I was definently on that path of the “woe is me” victim of circumstance” (mom) and the “drunken should have, would have, could have” person (dad) and I am worried that with my move back to Texas I will start sliding back into those patterns. 

I am also worried about living with your boyfriend, or frankly being around him. I don’t really know him all that well, but from how I have seen him treat you while I lived with y’all before, I know he has never garnered my respect. You are such an amazing person and to watch you treated the way he treats you is unnerving. I also know that you can’t make decisions for people in regards to how they live their life and as long as you are happy, I am happy and will be there for you.

I have been seeing a substance abuse counselor (hence the gross emotional letter:) and am working on my abuse with alcohol and my self esteem issues. I know alcohol has always been my way of trying to escape myself and my consistent disappointment in myself as well as an escape from our VERY dysfunctional family. I never learned to expect much from myself or for myself, I was never the smart one or the athletic one and I never felt like there were any expectations from me so I never expected anything above average from myself. I always felt like I had really impossible shoes to fill so I gave up pretty quickly when I knew that I would never be as good as you and I have continued to not strive for anything.

I have always looked up to you and love you more than anything in the world. I know we are not the outwardly emotional type of people, probably a learned skill from mom and dad, but I am always here for you if you ever need emotional support and I know you are here for me as well. I am really excited to be there for you in this new chapter of your life and I am asking that you hold me accountable with all the stuff I have been working on. I want to be a positive role model and not a drunken disaster of an aunt. I want to start expecting more from myself and I want you to require more from me. 

XO

RM

***Is it odd that I am literally cringing inside re-reading this? I think my body is allergic to vulnerability***