Day 4: Grief?

Wow.

I started meditating again after a two week long break. I usually do 1h – 1h30 a day, split into two or three sessions. This morning, I did 40 minutes, 20 of which were spent weeping. Weeping for no specific reason, it seemed at first. Then it became clearer: weeping because of the deep unhappiness of loved ones close to me (see previous post), and for myself (my partner and I are facing a rough patch, he has decided to go back to therapy and we are taking a break so he can work on himself. I miss him a lot).

I feel like I have lost, or am grieving for the loss of a few things: the “presence” of alcohol in my every day life, hope that my parents will ever change or be happy, my relationship.

And I must face the facts: I am alone. I am with myself.

I must remember that this is ok.

It feels so strange to actually feel these emotions without having to push them away. I’m not freaking out that they’re there. Of course, they pass. Every time.

I know it’s only day 4, but so far I have not had any desire to drink whatsoever. It’s simply off the table. I do feel like I am mourning the loss of a liquid companion. But I know it’s an unhelpful companion, who provided a brief distraction in the moment, and drove me further and further away from myself and reality as time went by. The flip side is that I now get to spend all this time with the companion that alcohol turned into a barely audible voice and invisible being: myself. My sober, sensitive, self.

As early as 10:00am this I started to feel intense pangs of loneliness. Usually these hit me in the evening, if I spend the evening alone. This feeling of being alone in the world and unloved truly is the most difficult emotion for me to handle. Thankfully, at some point, I reminded myself that I create my own reality and I could either keep feeling sorry for myself, or actually do something to feel better. So I went to yoga with a friend, and I went to read a book in the park instead of staying indoors.

By pure chance (or because we live in a small town), my partner randomly showed up at the same park. After three days of no contact, he just appeared out of nowhere. We talked. He said his need for space was in part due to the impression that my decision to quit drinking was made because of him (and that as soon as I am away from him I start drinking again). This is both true (I drank in secret and at almost every occasion when he wasn’t around) and false (my decision to quit was made 100% for myself, is due in great part to my family history, and has been brewing for a VERY long time. In a sense, it has absolutely nothing to do with my partner).

Paradox? He offered that we spend the evening together, but I spontaneously said I would rather spend the evening alone, with myself, to process my feelings.

Look at me go!

Usually I would have wanted a beer as soon as I returned to my empty apartment. Tonight I don’t. I am simply writing this here – in this confused post, which is less about drinking than about the things I would use drinking to cover up.

I am determined to learn how to enjoy being alone, being with myself, and need neither a substance or another person to make me feel happy. I need to internalize the idea that I am enough.

It’s strange, but although I spent most of my Sunday crying, right now I can say that I am happy. I feel proud of being able to deal with reality as it is, and with my feelings.

Whatever your goal, stay strong !

Anne