Two Year Mark ~ Reflecting

I hate passing by the local Golf Course. HATE it.

It makes my heart hurt. It washes embarrassment over me. It makes me want to hide in a corner. And yet... It has become one of my touchstones that helps remind me why I started this journey into sobriety.

See... a couple years back, I got very inebriated at a local watering hole, got all sorts of pissed off at my husband (for what, I have YET to remember), and took off walking through town. I wasn't going to ride home with him. I wasn't going to put up with this nonsense anymore. Who did he think he was...

Luckily, he tracked me down. I yelled at him some more, in front of strangers in a parking lot that were just trying to enjoy their ice cream. I took off walking again. He followed me, until I finally stopped in front of the Golf Course, on the side of the road, to throw up. He eventually talked me into getting into his truck, and he took me home, where I proceeded to yell at him more. I still, to this day, cannot remember why the fuck I attacked him the way I did. I said some very hurtful, horrible, mean things to that wonderful man. Things I cannot take back. Some things I cannot remember, and unfortunately he cannot forget. I was horrible.  And yet... he stayed.  This incident was not the first time I took my anger and verbal aggression out on my husband. It was, thank the Gods, one of the last, though.

You would think that ~THAT embarrassing incident~ would have been enough for me to slow down on the alcohol intake. That this would make me realize that maybe I had a problem. That I was extremely lucky to have my husband stick around after treating him SO horribly over and over again. Almost every time I drank, that poor guy took all my bullshit, and yet he stayed. This HAD to be the tipping point for me, right?! Time to put down the drink, right?

Nope. Not for this girl. I pushed the limits again. I went out with friends and got extremely inebriated (again). I walked home, and didn't remember the walk. I fought with my husband (once again, about an unknown problem). I tried having drunk sex with my husband, to "make up for being a bitch", and ended up passing out on top of him. I woke up the next morning not remembering anything after leaving the bar to walk home. My husband had to fill me in. It was surreal, really... having my husband tell me about my own despicable actions, like I was someone else completely. Some woman I didn't know. "I would never act that way..." The look on his face, and the hurt in his eyes, made me realize that it WAS me he was describing, and that if things didn't change, he could no longer stick around to pick me up and dust me off. I don't blame the guy one bit.


That was two years ago, today.

Before I quit drinking I yelled at my kids. ALOT.

Before I quit drinking I made promises to my kids that I didn't keep. (How can you keep a promise that you don't remember making?)
Before I quit drinking, I was spending $400.00 a month (minimum) on alcohol, while telling my kids I couldn't afford to take them to a movie.
Before I quit drinking, I thought it was normal to have a 12 pack of beer a night, or two or three bottles of wine. BY MYSELF.

Before I quit drinking, I thought it was ok to drown my emotions and fears in alcohol, like it was a cleansing, natural thing, and that my family needed to accept this part of me, like it or not.

Before I quit drinking, I would get behind the wheel of my car after "getting buzzed" and drive my drunk ass home, risking myself and all people around me.
I am absolutely ashamed of my behavior before I quit drinking. Not gonna lie.

Now. Two years sober. I try my damnedest not to yell at my kids anymore.
I try to keep any and every promise I make.
I now spend that money on a car payment, things for my kids and grandkids, and new ink when I can afford it, and feel really good about it.
I no longer drown my emotions, but instead, have to face them head on and do my best, every day, to deal with them and let them go, when needed. Some days, honestly, still suck. SERIOUSLY SUCK. But I'm doing it. Sober.

Two years... and I am slowly starting to feel that I am regaining some respect; not only for myself, but also from my husband. I am working on it... but it will be a long road. I know, without a doubt, that my husband loves and adores me, and is extremely proud of the steps I've taken in these past two years. However, I also know that respect is earned... not just given freely. I am determined to KNOW that I deserve that respect from him. I am also determined to remind him EVERY DAY how lucky of a woman I KNOW I am, to have such an understanding man in my corner. He truly is my salvation. He is THE ONE to put a mirror up in front of my face and make me see the twisted reflection there. THIS was not his Jess. THIS was not who he married. He missed her. He wanted her back. Thank you, love. She's in there... she's getting comfortable in her own skin again. And she is ever so grateful to be on this road with you.

One Day At A Time.

Blessed Be.

J