HDB roll call!
I gotta' say, when people said "Happy New Year" to me, I was repeatedly astounded. This feels like a New Apocalypse to me! And just to clarify, the word "apocalypse" has its roots in Greek words meaning "reveal,"and "uncover." So not the end of anything, but certainly a wild ride, over here! So here's my end of the last apocalypse and beginning of the new one; still here, still never drinking against my will, from Oct. '09.
That's MORE than FOUR years!!! And the demands of life have, in many ways, been far more pressing in this past year than I can ever recall. Of course, there may have been more demanding years, but I was drunk, so what did I know? :H:H:H
It actually began to get intense about 18 months ago, with the death of my cousin from brain-cancer, my mother's rapid descent into a bizarre illness that I COULD get her help for, except her 95 year old husband refused to acknowledge that she is ill, even though I had a lengthy appointment with the head of the department of a Medical Research Center here in my hometown who says it definitely IS "something" that is like an illness, but none that anyone has ever seen. I could really weird everyone out, but this is not the appropriate board! Then the death of my aunt, and even more devastating, that of our 14 year-old Golden Retriever, Trixie. Follow that up with a cousin involved in my aunt's estate who, literally, had not seen her in over 23 years challenging my sister's management. And my bewildering discovery that it was probably an appropriate challenge, as my sister, who is only 4 years older than I, is living in her own world, and that world is far more distant from anything that interfaces with agreed upon "reality" than I had suspected. Leaving so many things up to me to figure out, instigate, follow-up, and piss people off enough to get something done that I haven't been home to "work," and earn money since around Thanksgiving.
But here's the deal: I'm finding it all pretty invigorating. Physically exhausting, but the requirement to gather and utilize my personal resources, and seeing just how many I have, and what I can accomplish, really IS invigorating. And this is not an ego-stroke thing. It's just "Wow. I can do what really needs to be done." Including being just fine with everything still a 52-card-pick-up game due to my step-dad's health and his bizarre family.
I helped organize a community-wide workshop this weekend, hosted the facilitator, had my ex-husband working out of my house for a week; AND pulled this off after waking up Tuesday night with a temperature headed toward 104 degrees. Each day seems to include several events that used to "make" my week, or month. Now they fly by so quickly I forget to tell anyone, or sometimes forget, altogether!!
So THIS is life, and I'm tellin' 'ya, if someone had told me the intensity and immensity of the angst . . or the awe, I would never have been able to comprehend it. So for those of you concerned about bac tamping down emotions, this single-person case study reveals just the opposite. Except the emotional range feels more effective, somehow. I really only have emotional energy to invest in things that truly matter to me. The workman who disappeared with $4000 last summer hasn't made the list, yet. Maybe it will come up to do something about that in the future, but so far, I've had far more important things to attend to.
Yes, I still drink a glass or 2 of wine, occasionally. Or A beer. Just can't manage 2 beers. I take 80-120mg of baclofen/day, depending upon whether or not I forget one 40 mg dose. I don't think about alcohol much at all, except when I'm trying to coax money out of potential donors, or have guests coming for dinner. Fortunately, I have a dear friend who always buys exactly the right wine for those occasions. There is no "house" wine, at my house.
So that's my new apocalypse tale about life and baclofen. It is dramatically marked by this effect: I have no fucking clue what is going to happen, on any given day. And THAT is fascinating. I've had a pretty amazing 56 years, anyway, deducting a few that I took "off" to drink, full time. That so sucked; and whatever is way worse than "sucked." I can still use certain memories to generate a hint of the physical suffering, and the mental distress - there just are no words. I remember wondering if I would EVER get well.
:bow:bow:bow to EVERYONE at MWO; especially those of you who have been posting here for years, and keep posting. It reminds me of the metaphor that I think is in the AA Big Book. You guys keep standing, together, in this big, light room, opening the door into a possibility that oh so many of us may have died, without. And another debt of gratitude to the "first generation" of baclofentists, several for whom it didn't work, but just that you wrote about what you were doing was such an important part of the pathway for the rest of us. My sobriety is secure. My life is rich, full, and hard as hell, and I'm lovin' it!! JKTTDP! Really. It works.
I gotta' say, when people said "Happy New Year" to me, I was repeatedly astounded. This feels like a New Apocalypse to me! And just to clarify, the word "apocalypse" has its roots in Greek words meaning "reveal,"and "uncover." So not the end of anything, but certainly a wild ride, over here! So here's my end of the last apocalypse and beginning of the new one; still here, still never drinking against my will, from Oct. '09.
That's MORE than FOUR years!!! And the demands of life have, in many ways, been far more pressing in this past year than I can ever recall. Of course, there may have been more demanding years, but I was drunk, so what did I know? :H:H:H
It actually began to get intense about 18 months ago, with the death of my cousin from brain-cancer, my mother's rapid descent into a bizarre illness that I COULD get her help for, except her 95 year old husband refused to acknowledge that she is ill, even though I had a lengthy appointment with the head of the department of a Medical Research Center here in my hometown who says it definitely IS "something" that is like an illness, but none that anyone has ever seen. I could really weird everyone out, but this is not the appropriate board! Then the death of my aunt, and even more devastating, that of our 14 year-old Golden Retriever, Trixie. Follow that up with a cousin involved in my aunt's estate who, literally, had not seen her in over 23 years challenging my sister's management. And my bewildering discovery that it was probably an appropriate challenge, as my sister, who is only 4 years older than I, is living in her own world, and that world is far more distant from anything that interfaces with agreed upon "reality" than I had suspected. Leaving so many things up to me to figure out, instigate, follow-up, and piss people off enough to get something done that I haven't been home to "work," and earn money since around Thanksgiving.
But here's the deal: I'm finding it all pretty invigorating. Physically exhausting, but the requirement to gather and utilize my personal resources, and seeing just how many I have, and what I can accomplish, really IS invigorating. And this is not an ego-stroke thing. It's just "Wow. I can do what really needs to be done." Including being just fine with everything still a 52-card-pick-up game due to my step-dad's health and his bizarre family.
I helped organize a community-wide workshop this weekend, hosted the facilitator, had my ex-husband working out of my house for a week; AND pulled this off after waking up Tuesday night with a temperature headed toward 104 degrees. Each day seems to include several events that used to "make" my week, or month. Now they fly by so quickly I forget to tell anyone, or sometimes forget, altogether!!
So THIS is life, and I'm tellin' 'ya, if someone had told me the intensity and immensity of the angst . . or the awe, I would never have been able to comprehend it. So for those of you concerned about bac tamping down emotions, this single-person case study reveals just the opposite. Except the emotional range feels more effective, somehow. I really only have emotional energy to invest in things that truly matter to me. The workman who disappeared with $4000 last summer hasn't made the list, yet. Maybe it will come up to do something about that in the future, but so far, I've had far more important things to attend to.
Yes, I still drink a glass or 2 of wine, occasionally. Or A beer. Just can't manage 2 beers. I take 80-120mg of baclofen/day, depending upon whether or not I forget one 40 mg dose. I don't think about alcohol much at all, except when I'm trying to coax money out of potential donors, or have guests coming for dinner. Fortunately, I have a dear friend who always buys exactly the right wine for those occasions. There is no "house" wine, at my house.
So that's my new apocalypse tale about life and baclofen. It is dramatically marked by this effect: I have no fucking clue what is going to happen, on any given day. And THAT is fascinating. I've had a pretty amazing 56 years, anyway, deducting a few that I took "off" to drink, full time. That so sucked; and whatever is way worse than "sucked." I can still use certain memories to generate a hint of the physical suffering, and the mental distress - there just are no words. I remember wondering if I would EVER get well.
:bow:bow:bow to EVERYONE at MWO; especially those of you who have been posting here for years, and keep posting. It reminds me of the metaphor that I think is in the AA Big Book. You guys keep standing, together, in this big, light room, opening the door into a possibility that oh so many of us may have died, without. And another debt of gratitude to the "first generation" of baclofentists, several for whom it didn't work, but just that you wrote about what you were doing was such an important part of the pathway for the rest of us. My sobriety is secure. My life is rich, full, and hard as hell, and I'm lovin' it!! JKTTDP! Really. It works.
Count me in.
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