Well. I hit the booze again pretty hard again in November and December. Just fell right back in. I simply couldn’t handle how busy and stressful my life was. Coupled with some bone-deep depression I used alcohol to self medicate again.
Like many others I suppose, I hit a low point just before new year. I was planning to to stop (that’s a whole other blog topic right there… planning to stop) just before new year but obviously that didn’t pan out when I still had some vodka left over. I ended up falling asleep in bed a glass in one hand and my phone in the other (Truthfully, I wasn’t even that drunk I think it was tiredness). The wife found me in this state, discovered my poorly hidden bottle of vodka and, in the morning, the poop hit the fan.
I addressed it honestly with her, saying that although I hadn’t mentioned it my depression had got a grip the past few months and I had fallen off the wagon again. I convinced her the drinking was only over the past few evenings… I am becoming much more honest with her about most things but I just couldn’t about this.
She was so angry, I won’t even reveal the things she said about me in text messages but I have saved them. She says a lot of things in the heat of the moment and I know they are just words she is using to emotionally vent at me but…. one of my problems is I take them to heart and NEVER forget them. There are kernels of truth hidden in them admittedly but saying them directly to a person dealing with depression is just not helpful. She claims she wants the best for the boys but how is ignoring/exacerbating the mental illness of their father helpful?
I am very good at hiding my depression when sober and drinking. At work, at home and with family. Yet, like many people, it seems to build up to a crisis point affecting those around me.
The good news? Assuming all goes well this is my 14th day without alcohol. The last fortnight has been a living hell of major depression, dense brain fog, headaches, lethargy, snappiness, apathy and loneliness. That last one, loneliness, is a surprising one. I’m constantly with other people due to the nature of my job and family but, more than any other depressive episode, I just haven’t wanted to engage with them. Shamefully, even my kids at times.
As recently as two days ago I almost had a full on panic attack in front of my class. Triggered by texts from my wife I was desperate to run to the nearest toilet to just hide and cry. Sounds utterly pathetic typing it out but it’s an indication of the depths I’ve hit.
Today. I’ve woken up feeling a little less frazzled. My brain is clearing a little, there seems to be a future out there somewhere. My body, although bone tired, is not complaining as much.
My promise to myself has been this:
January: Don’t drink. Doesn’t matter what you eat, how little exercise you do, how much work you avoid. Just don’t drink.
February: Sort out eating habits. Eat less, eat healthier. This is NOT a diet, it is changing how I eat. Don’t drink.
March: Exercise: Couch to 5k. Don’t drink.
April: That’s enough to be getting on with I think!