loop-de-loop

I had an anxiety attack last night.

it was storming and the thunder woke me. the sound of the rain and wind meant only one thing: greg was not going to take the girls camping.

I snuck downstairs and watched out the window. I went to weather.com and searched for how long the storm might last.

then, suddenly: RAGE.

WHY? WHY? WHY NOW WHEN THERE HAS BEEN NO RAIN AND ONLY INSUFFERABLE HEAT FOR DAYS?

why now when I have been working so hard and hanging on so desperately with only the thought of this break, this escape, keeping me going?

WHY IS THIS THUNDER AND LIGHTNING AND RAIN HAPPENING TO ME????

irrational, right? yes. anxiety is like that.

I went back to bed and willed myself to sleep.

I itched and scratched and tossed and turned and could barely breathe and then breathed too fast and then was hot and then cold and then a million years old and then with a blinding pain in my eye.

I rolled over and grabbed greg's arm and woke him.

"greg. GREG! it's raining."

"GREG!"

"if you don't go camping, I am going to a hotel."

"I swear to god I am going to a hotel."

and then I lay there, and tried to count backwards from one hundred, and after a while, I fell asleep.

this morning the house is quiet and they have gone. I am ashamed of how easily I would banish them. I am ashamed that I am now holding thunderstorms against mother nature. I am ashamed that the last words I said to my quiet and kind husband were hissed through clenched teeth: "I swear to god I am going to a hotel."

and then my mom calls and jokingly chastises me for laying about and I am full of RAGE all over again.

my teeth are going to fall out for all this grinding. the sun is shining, hot and strong, and I want to throw a brick at mother nature because HOW DARE THE SUN SHINE AND TAUNT ME ON MY DAY OFF WHEN I WANT TO LAY IN BED ALL DAY.

I know enough to keep away from heavy machinery and automobiles today. to keep the scissors in the drawer. and alcohol? forget it.

where does this madness come from? I'm so tired. I need a day off from my day off. and then a day off from that. where does this end?

being accountable

I guess I've been telling little fibs all around, here and there. and I wonder, is it because I am not feeling accountable? no one is going to notice if I skip that and do this instead. no one is really watching when I leave that out or turn that on. and I certainly don't get in trouble when I push this kind of thing to the edge. I am surrounded by incredibly forgiving or (and/or?) incredibly preoccupied people. and I am often invisible.

but that's one of the biggest fibs I've been telling. and I've kind of tricked myself into believing that no one is noticing what I am doing. but I'm also not really buying it.

so, here's the deal. let's try to be a little more accountable. let's say, I'll post what I do and why, and you read about it and keep me honest.

if you keep close tabs on me and I care enough not to let you down, maybe I'll start showing up.

let's just see.

the sweet spot

so lent has come and is long gone. I failed. didn't even make it one full week.

and I keep wondering: why?

I am not an alcoholic.

that's just not how I see myself.

I drink to excess occasionally. I drink to a place called "planet novacaine" every now and again. sometimes I'm a sipper. sometimes I'm a gobbler. sometimes I stick with water. but who doesn't like a cold bud light draft and a game of cards?

I am thirsty. parched in fact. where is the drink that fills me up?

go big or go home

first transgression: slumber party in innsbrook.

you didn't actually think I'd go all that way and not fall off?

lesson learned: your drink is not always the drink you wanted. I have returned home more parched that before. turns out, just having a bottle wasn't that great without all the other things I desired around me. the taste was familiar, but the buzz just wasn't the same. I'm going to be thinking about that this week. what was it that I was thirsty for?

thirsty on day two

I was in a wine bar last night and I did not have a drink. A WINE BAR. how about that?

turns out wine bars are nothing. true first test is one full day of stay-at-home-momming. it is 5:00 somewhere, and here, now, and I am surrounded by bottles screaming "drink me." for no other reason than they can put my head at ease. also melt the knots in my shoulders and tuck my aching legs into soft sheets.

what can replace this?

karatefairy hops in the wagon

this is how it is going to begin. with a journey and a test.

everybody gives up something for lent. everybody cheats, stumbles, falls, tries again, skips on friday, counts the days, quits, tries again. I just want to record how it goes. I'm going to try to get on the wagon, dry up, sober up, clear my head, clear my body, and see how it feels to teetotal. for 40 days. well, 40 days plus sundays. I'm no catholic--I just thought I'd give it a try.

so far, so good. I am beginning not utterly confident, but sober, at least. there is a half-drunk bottle of shiraz on the counter. it's funny, I could go either way. I could pour it straight down the drain or I could gobble it down, right now, at 11:08 am. I think I'll just let it sit for a bit.

39 days, 13 hours to go.