I've been writing this blog for about 9 months. In a few days I will be 11 months sober. Seems strange to be counting the days to something I never thought would happen. I never looked forward to being sober. I fought it tooth and nail. About 7 years ago I had this awful stomach pain and it happened almost every night, the only time it felt better was when I made myself a sombrero. I never thought about it at the time. I didn't have a drinking problem. I dated a man (the father of my children) who was a true alcoholic; he was mean and nasty and would be physically abusive after having a few too many. He worked nights so I only had to deal with him on the weekends when he was not working. He didn't help me with the kids when my stomach would hurt, he acted like I was making it up. So I made an appointment with my primary and he said I was at the beginning of having an ulcer. He asked how much I drank and I said a sombrero here or there (which was the truth back then), he hinted as to that may be the problem, so I lessened the amount I drank and switched to beer.
A few years went by and I started having major stomach issues which was chalked up to IBS (irritable bowel syndrome). I still had no idea any of it was due to alcohol. But again all I had to do was have a drink and the pain would go away. I would have diarrhea all day at work, 5-8 times a day and by the time I came home and had a shot I didn't have diarrhea anymore. I ended up having more than one occurrence in the ER for pain or at the doctor's fed up and I would get asked the same question, "how much did I drink?" I would always say I had a few drinks here or there, I never said the true amount or the fact that it was daily. I thought that was normal. Towards the end my husband would say maybe all your stomach issues are from alcohol, again I would withdraw. I hated being told something I am doing was the cause to my pain. That would make me drink more.
So, on a regular work day I would wake up in pain and get ready for work. I would get my children up for school and be out of the door in time for school and to arrive at work on time. Throughout the day I would have a headache, I would get chills and if I happened to eat that day I would just shit it out as soon as I ate it. I would stop after work to pick my kids up from their grandmother's and have a splitting headache or be nauseas. I would be cranky and yell at the kids to be quiet or stop fighting as we drove home. The minute I walked in the door I would find my husband and give him a quick kiss and then head off to the kitchen to start dinner. Before I started anything I would pour my first shot of the night. My hands would be shaky as I took the first shot, then the second and by the third I normally felt at ease. I would make sure the kids were doing their homework and laundry was being taken care of. As I cooked I took shot after shot, by the time dinner was done that would about 7 shots all together. I would make everyone plates, and put mine in the microwave knowing I wanted it hot. I would set everyone up with their dinner and head back to the kitchen for another shot. By the time that was done someone would need something and I would be back to the kitchen for yet another shot, before I knew it was 7:30pm, too late to eat. All I could think of was eating that late and having IBS the next day or even the middle of the night. So after getting the kids showered and ready for bed it was time for another shot. By the time I went to bed I would have consumed over a pint of alcohol. Sometimes mixed, sometimes beer and wine but mostly straight shots. I would go to the bed already excited thinking about the net day when I could start drinking as soon as I got home. It's all I could wait for.