Day Four

Still sober after all this time. My dreams are flooded with booze.

I was in shock yesterday when I posted. I no longer think that A never loved me, but I do think he loves drinking more than anything else in his life. And that is because he's caught in an addiction. This is something I can obviously identify with, but it isn't something I can live with.

My mom is an excellent human being. She's being really good to me, and I'm so grateful.

Also met yesterday with the therapist, Edie. I liked her a lot. Warm but not gushy, entirely nonjudgmental, knows her stuff. We did a long assessment in which she asked many questions about my usage patterns, reasons for drinking, emotions experienced when drinking, consequences of drinking, etc.

I was completely honest. I highlight this fact because for several years I've lied to medical-type people, shaving a few drinks off the weekly totals they ask you about, that kind of thing.

Unsurprisingly, I meet all the criteria for alcohol dependence, which is a nicey-nice way of saying that I'm a freaking drunk (hee). In fact, E expressed concern about withdrawal of the medically alarming kind and noted that although I'm not experiencing such symptoms at this point, they could still ensue. If I get the shakes or what have you, I'm supposed to go to the ER so that they can make sure I don't end up with seizures.

We talked about treatment options. E is a fan of AA, though she also wants me to find out if I have insurance coverage for outpatient and/or inpatient programs. For now, we agreed that I'll go to at least one meeting every day. We'll assess how I'm doing when I see her again on Tuesday. And I can call her anytime.

She thinks it's a good thing--and I certainly can't argue with this--that A and I have separated. Very, very hard to remain sober while living with an active alcoholic.

Finally, she gave me a book and a bunch of photocopies, the latter of which my dear mom has already read along with my AA pamphlets.

Speaking of whom: she's considering going to Alanon, holy shit. While I can't even wrap my mind around being the person who's sending my mother to Alanon, I do enjoy the irony: I begged her to go over and over, for years, while my dad was still alive and actively drinking. She was too ashamed. So it would seem that I'm not the only person who's doing a lot of growing this week.