I purposely didn’t take the time to “celebrate” and talk about my 90 day mark. I was warned that your cravings and irritability increase around significant milestones like the 30, 60, 90 day and year mark. That the addiction tries to trick you. It’s like the Devil sabotaging your success.
And looking back those weeks around those milestones were especially hard. The week of Day 90 I was quite emotional. Didn’t talk to my husband for a week. It was part me being stubborn and feeling sorry for myself and part me standing up for myself. Albeit it wasn’t the most mature move, I realized I have found a new sense of strength. I have found a voice in me that I never let out before. I have found confidence.
Because when you can no longer drink off the people and situations that frustrate you- you have to speak up and work through it. Otherwise you will find a new way to numb it out. A new distraction or addiction.
But about the drinking. Well I haven’t wanted a drink in weeks. But let me be clear. I’ve also not been the most social being either. I limited my time around drinking. I do feel it’s getting easier though. I find that the more experiences I have in situations that once involved me drinking, the easier it gets.
I also took a break from social media. I didn’t want to feed my never ending need for approval by blasting out my every move and then wondering what “they must think of me.”
It’s like I’ve been in my own personal rehab. Now that I’m not in a drunken fog I can see the garbage in plain sight. I needed time to clean out the clutter. Decide what and who needs to go and can stay. I’m very particular with what I put back and where I place it.
So in the last 90 days, I’ve kicked my daily cravings, I’ve lost 11-12 pounds (had to get that 12 in there), I’ve established a solid bedtime routine with my son, and perfected the art of producing nerf war videos.
I’ve had some real doozies of arguments with my husband. Poor guy, his wife stopped numbing herself and now she lets her feelings spill out everywhere. That gets messy.
I’ve made incredible new friendships and rekindled some oldies but goodies. The kind of relationships that don’t require drinking to have a good time or connect .
I’ve read more books than I have in the last five years. I’ve started dancing in the bathroom again. I’ve gotten more sleep than I have in 10 years. I’ve started working out again. I’ve learned to breathe and let go. I’ve started praying again. Like real talk praying.
I’ve taken the absolute worst, ugliest, creepiest room in our house and revamped it.
If I posted a picture of this room you wouldn’t believe it was ever really here. It’s our laundry/storage room. Dude. I’ve discovered mice, snakes and killer spiders in this dark neglected room. I’m talking. Scare. EE.
And what do you know? It is now the cheeriest, happiest, cleanest, most defined place in the entire house. The one that truly represents my taste and personality.
It is the alcohol addiction section of my home. The one I was so afraid to tackle. The one I gave up on. The one I just knew would never improve. The one my friends and family were not allowed to see. The one I rarely went in and therefore rarely did my laundry.
I let the dirty clothes pile up. I let clothes hang on lines to dry until they were forgotten. I just threw new clean clothes on top until the layers were so deep..I didn’t know what was in there.
Until one day I had had enough. I told my husband not to worry about getting me anything for Christmas. I was going to turn that room into my favorite place in the house. I just wanted his trust and the design freedom to tackle it head on.
I planned it, sketched it, researched it. I picked out and purchased the cabinets, counters, hardware, paint, floors. I cleaned off the disorganized, dusty shelves and sorted through the random junk and forgotten clothes. I hauled it out and threw it out. I brought in the people I trusted to help me rebuild.
I was patient when I felt the progress was on a freeze. I reminded myself of what it would look like when it was done. What it would feel like. The joy it would bring me. I put into place a system so everything had a home and a purpose. Structure.
I trusted my gut when people questioned my choices. I refused to let the worry of it not turning out the way I wanted stop me. I stayed focused on the vision and could see it through the unfinished project.
Upstairs in our home everything looked clean and tidy. While all along I had a dirty room I wanted no one to ever see. One that made me feel embarrassed. Ashamed.
Much like my life of perfectionism and my nasty little secret I wanted no one to discover.
So now I’m tackling the largest room in my home. It’s also the last one. The family room. I started this remodel of my husband’s childhood home around the time I tried to quit drinking last year. That sobriety run lasted two weeks. It was right after I stepped back from many of my commitments and vowed to slowdown and get healthier. One by one I removed wallpaper and carpet, updated vanities, fixtures, paint and furniture. But the laundry room and den were the beasts that I knew would be the hardest to revamp.
Just like my drinking and spirituality.
My personal rehab is almost up. It’s time to open the doors. It’s time to apply what I’ve learned. It’s time to enjoy this new found space.