Self explanatory, where were you a year ago and how have you progressed.
December 2012: Two months into the switch, but still trying to drink moderately. Completely disgusted with my roommate (and lonely) and commuting two hours from my parents' house to my job. This is where going to the bar every night had gotten me- alone in a faraway place, broke, angry, depressed, overweight, medicated. I had a new job and apartment lined up for January hoping to make a fresh start. Drinking every night, about 2-3 drinks.
January 2013: New job, new apartment. Things are on thin ice at the new job within 2 weeks of starting. In order to be closer to home and have a nicer place to live, I chose an apartment an hour from work. This does not make it easy to get to work on time when you pass out in a baclofen coma... Attempting to drink less and eat healthier due to New Year's resolution.
February 2013: There is a bar a stones throw from my new apartment, and I catch myself going there every night. Probably averaging 3-4 drinks a night on top of greasy food. Despite being in the same town as my friends, I rarely see them and spend most of my time drinking alone and texting on my phone. The bar's waitstaff knows me on a first name basis. What a pathetic sight I must be...
March 2013: Getting seriously disgusted with my job. My coworkers remind me of the rednecks who tormented me on the school bus. I catch them making vicious jokes about me just out of earshot, and I am noticing that I am being given less and less (and less) to do. The entire office reeks of snuff and the sight of their spit bottles makes me want to gag. Holding steady at 3-4 drinks a night and burning money at the bar. I begin talking online with a girl in Pittsburgh.
April 2013: Fired. No doubt due to my earlier tardiness from Baclofen and the fabricated excuse that it was Abilify causing it. They were crafty enough to say it was a slowdown at the plant to avoid looking discriminatory, but it was an end to the subtle hostilities and accusatory tone I was being treated with there. It was also obvious that I did not fit in with them, as they were quite openly cliquish. Good riddance. I meet said girl, unsure of where things will go.
May: Things become official with the girl, who likes my knowledge of classic rock. I keep my nose to the grindstone hoping for job leads, but nothing. I am also cutting back on drinking since I can no longer afford the bar, but it is still a nightly activity. My nice apartment feels like a prison because I know I must abandon it soon- I am paying rent by breaking an old 401K. Then late in the month I get a random email from a prestigious engineering firm (a name that you have all heard of) saying that I could be hired off my resume. Two days later I have the job.
June: I select a room on a horse farm from Craigslist to rent, admitting that my life is not yet stable enough to make any major commitments like a lease. I also need a remote place to live to be the hell away from bars and get out of the habit of drinking every night- even moderately. I start the job running, determined to salvage my reputation. My resume looks very spotty and suspicious and I know that I won't be able to take much more of a beating.
July: Drinking less. Never going to bars because the girlfriend does not drink, and getting about 3 alcohol free nights in a week. Things start to darken, however. I notice severe anxiety and squirming at my desk, as well as terrible confusion. I start screwing up at work and earning the ire of my coworkers. It can't be alcohol, and I begin to question the medications I am on. Looking up side effects of zoloft and ability, I find that my nervous system is likely fried from ability and giving me akathesia. I am also disgustingly overweight from the zoloft and repulsed at what I see in the mirror. I start seeing a doctor to safely wean off of the meds.
August: Getting the sense that things are going nowhere with the girlfriend, I press her about where things are going. Realizing she wants a non-physical, middle school relationship, I dump her. Things improve at work, and with mandatory overtime I obliterate my car payment and start to make major headway into my student loans. Slowly dialing back the zoloft and ability.
September: Nothing noteworthy- a nondescript month of titrating down on meds.
October: I reach the finish line with zoloft and ability, and post glowingly about what it feels like. A week later, the withdrawal kicks in and the most profound horror imaginable takes over. My memory of the month is very shaky, but at the lowest point I take an abilfy hoping to stave off the anguish with the backup plan being to check myself into the ER if things don't improve. I stick to my guns and refuse to go back on the zoloft, not buying the myth that I am relapsing into chronic depression.
November: I have stabilized on abilify, but still depressed a few days of the week. Sticking it out and not going back on the zoloft pays dividends thoughout the month. I notice fewer and fewer depressed days during the week, then finally none at all. The weight starts to melt off. Although I am far from the deliriously happy week when I first quit, I know that I will never have to go back on zoloft again. But another issue has emerged- going off zoloft has made me even more sensitive to alcohol. Even small amounts of alcohol leave me lazy and incapacitated for several days after I drink.
December: Well founded paranoia sets in as my coworkers and I are given less and less to do. We suspect that our contracts are being terminated and prepare for the worst. Finally, we go to our update meeting, whistling Europe's "The final Countdown" on the way to the conference room. The news is the exact opposite of what we expect, and we are actually given more responsibilities. I feel like I have dodged a train with a new lease on life for the new year. Things have fallen into place- I am no longer living in fear of losing my job to alcohol, debts have been paid off and I've kicked zoloft out of my system with sights set on abilify next. Things have not gotten great, but I feel like the damage to my life has at least been repaired.
Taking all this in, I've realized that I need to resolve not to drink to make any more headway in life. Whether it's work, reading or guitar practice I only make spurts of progress after several days of sobriety. Also, my sensitivity to alcohol has more or less mandated that I refrain from even small amounts of it.
Goals for 2014:
Get school paid off
Get a contract extension
Shoot for 60 days of sobriety
December 2012: Two months into the switch, but still trying to drink moderately. Completely disgusted with my roommate (and lonely) and commuting two hours from my parents' house to my job. This is where going to the bar every night had gotten me- alone in a faraway place, broke, angry, depressed, overweight, medicated. I had a new job and apartment lined up for January hoping to make a fresh start. Drinking every night, about 2-3 drinks.
January 2013: New job, new apartment. Things are on thin ice at the new job within 2 weeks of starting. In order to be closer to home and have a nicer place to live, I chose an apartment an hour from work. This does not make it easy to get to work on time when you pass out in a baclofen coma... Attempting to drink less and eat healthier due to New Year's resolution.
February 2013: There is a bar a stones throw from my new apartment, and I catch myself going there every night. Probably averaging 3-4 drinks a night on top of greasy food. Despite being in the same town as my friends, I rarely see them and spend most of my time drinking alone and texting on my phone. The bar's waitstaff knows me on a first name basis. What a pathetic sight I must be...
March 2013: Getting seriously disgusted with my job. My coworkers remind me of the rednecks who tormented me on the school bus. I catch them making vicious jokes about me just out of earshot, and I am noticing that I am being given less and less (and less) to do. The entire office reeks of snuff and the sight of their spit bottles makes me want to gag. Holding steady at 3-4 drinks a night and burning money at the bar. I begin talking online with a girl in Pittsburgh.
April 2013: Fired. No doubt due to my earlier tardiness from Baclofen and the fabricated excuse that it was Abilify causing it. They were crafty enough to say it was a slowdown at the plant to avoid looking discriminatory, but it was an end to the subtle hostilities and accusatory tone I was being treated with there. It was also obvious that I did not fit in with them, as they were quite openly cliquish. Good riddance. I meet said girl, unsure of where things will go.
May: Things become official with the girl, who likes my knowledge of classic rock. I keep my nose to the grindstone hoping for job leads, but nothing. I am also cutting back on drinking since I can no longer afford the bar, but it is still a nightly activity. My nice apartment feels like a prison because I know I must abandon it soon- I am paying rent by breaking an old 401K. Then late in the month I get a random email from a prestigious engineering firm (a name that you have all heard of) saying that I could be hired off my resume. Two days later I have the job.
June: I select a room on a horse farm from Craigslist to rent, admitting that my life is not yet stable enough to make any major commitments like a lease. I also need a remote place to live to be the hell away from bars and get out of the habit of drinking every night- even moderately. I start the job running, determined to salvage my reputation. My resume looks very spotty and suspicious and I know that I won't be able to take much more of a beating.
July: Drinking less. Never going to bars because the girlfriend does not drink, and getting about 3 alcohol free nights in a week. Things start to darken, however. I notice severe anxiety and squirming at my desk, as well as terrible confusion. I start screwing up at work and earning the ire of my coworkers. It can't be alcohol, and I begin to question the medications I am on. Looking up side effects of zoloft and ability, I find that my nervous system is likely fried from ability and giving me akathesia. I am also disgustingly overweight from the zoloft and repulsed at what I see in the mirror. I start seeing a doctor to safely wean off of the meds.
August: Getting the sense that things are going nowhere with the girlfriend, I press her about where things are going. Realizing she wants a non-physical, middle school relationship, I dump her. Things improve at work, and with mandatory overtime I obliterate my car payment and start to make major headway into my student loans. Slowly dialing back the zoloft and ability.
September: Nothing noteworthy- a nondescript month of titrating down on meds.
October: I reach the finish line with zoloft and ability, and post glowingly about what it feels like. A week later, the withdrawal kicks in and the most profound horror imaginable takes over. My memory of the month is very shaky, but at the lowest point I take an abilfy hoping to stave off the anguish with the backup plan being to check myself into the ER if things don't improve. I stick to my guns and refuse to go back on the zoloft, not buying the myth that I am relapsing into chronic depression.
November: I have stabilized on abilify, but still depressed a few days of the week. Sticking it out and not going back on the zoloft pays dividends thoughout the month. I notice fewer and fewer depressed days during the week, then finally none at all. The weight starts to melt off. Although I am far from the deliriously happy week when I first quit, I know that I will never have to go back on zoloft again. But another issue has emerged- going off zoloft has made me even more sensitive to alcohol. Even small amounts of alcohol leave me lazy and incapacitated for several days after I drink.
December: Well founded paranoia sets in as my coworkers and I are given less and less to do. We suspect that our contracts are being terminated and prepare for the worst. Finally, we go to our update meeting, whistling Europe's "The final Countdown" on the way to the conference room. The news is the exact opposite of what we expect, and we are actually given more responsibilities. I feel like I have dodged a train with a new lease on life for the new year. Things have fallen into place- I am no longer living in fear of losing my job to alcohol, debts have been paid off and I've kicked zoloft out of my system with sights set on abilify next. Things have not gotten great, but I feel like the damage to my life has at least been repaired.
Taking all this in, I've realized that I need to resolve not to drink to make any more headway in life. Whether it's work, reading or guitar practice I only make spurts of progress after several days of sobriety. Also, my sensitivity to alcohol has more or less mandated that I refrain from even small amounts of it.
Goals for 2014:
Get school paid off
Get a contract extension
Shoot for 60 days of sobriety
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