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sober lifestyle

Symptoms 🦠

jenwielgusjournalism

I scoffed when my therapist kept telling me, “It’s only a matter of time.” She had seen pretty much all her clients and family members, regardless of vaccination status, come down with COVID at some point over the past few years. But I could not even remember the last time I’d been truly sick, and having received all three shots plus being a staunch homebody who typically only leaves the house to go on nature hikes, I was confident in my immunity.

Maybe that’s why I felt so totally knocked on my ass this past week, when the virus finally did invade our house. We got exposed sometime around July 4; my husband hit the skids last weekend, and I followed a couple days behind.

I’ve known plenty of people who tested positive but escaped the symptoms; unfortunately, Hubby and I were not so lucky. In fact, I got slammed with COVID — fever, chills, heavy congestion, fatigue, the whole shebang — on the 21st day of my cycle, compounding the abject insanity/misery of PMS during perimenopause. As a result, I spent nearly all of Wednesday through Friday alternately coughing, crying — and, with help from NyQuil, napping — in bed.

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sober lifestyle

Darkness

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In between finishing “Ozark” on Netflix and waiting for the final block of “Better Call Saul” episodes to air on AMC (DVR is set for Monday night! Woo hoo!), my husband and I spent 4th of July weekend binging this relatively new “Yellowjackets” show that one of my friends recommended to me.

We had to subscribe to Showtime to watch it, but $12 a month seemed a small price to pay for entertainment we both actually agree on.

Hubby and I typically have similar viewing tastes, but his issue is my affinity for playing and re-playing my favorite series (“Sopranos,” “Breaking Bad,” “Game of Thrones,” “Fargo,” “The Wire,” “The Twilight Zone,” the list goes on…) over and over on an endless loop. And do not ask me why, because they’re awesome, but he does not care for “Dateline,” “Forensic Files,” “City Confidential,” and true crime investigative exposés of that ilk. 🤔

Meanwhile, I’m completely obsessed with all of the above. Whether it’s movies or TV shows or books or podcasts or even stuff I Google when I’m sitting around, I literally cannot get enough of…how would I even classify it? Crime dramas? Murder mysteries? Suspense stories? Profiles in psychopathology? “Tales From the Dark Side”?

RIP, Paulie, you one-shoe c*cksucker…
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sober lifestyle

Difference

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L to R: My last day as a drinker (July 6, 2019); 1 year; 2 years; and 3 years sober.

From what I can tell, studying these selfies, living alcohol-free for three full years hasn’t altered my appearance. I mean, there’s no doubt I was more physically fit in my drinking days, when I hit the gym as hard as the bottle, but I was also addicted to exercise and obsessed with my body size/shape, so…let’s not get nostalgic about shallow shit.

I’m not sure sobriety has really changed my personality, either.

I’m still fiercely independent, and socially awkward, and I much prefer a clear calendar that lets me go off and do my own thing. I still feel most at home in the great outdoors, and most comfortable in my skin when I’m on the move. I’m still an anxious, highly sensitive, hyper-punctual control freak and creature of habit who craves certainty and thrives on structure. I still have hearty appetites and moderation issues, and, since I cut thousands of empty sugar calories from my diet by quitting drinking, I also have an insatiable sweet tooth.

Guess it’s only natural to sub in one self-soothing vice for another. 🤷🏼‍♀️

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Grief

jenwielgusjournalism

A few months back, one of my counseling professors shared an assignment she’d given students in her undergrad addictions class: They had to write a break-up letter to their substance of choice.

It struck me as a powerful, meaningful exercise. I mean, if you really wanna know what it’s like for an addict trying to get sober, you’re going to have to process some pretty intense grief.

I guess that’s what this blog has been for me: one long “Dear John” for what seemed like the most intimate and significant long-term relationship of my life. Quitting drinking felt like losing a huge part of me, and almost three years later, that still stings from time to time.

Alcohol was a true, loyal BFF for someone who always avoided close friendships IRL, and there was a time when stripping “forever” from the equation seemed unthinkable. Impossible.

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graduate school, sober lifestyle

Intermission

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There are some things you never outgrow — I mean, I suppose you could outgrow them, if you snapped out of your unconscious stupor, got off your ass and put in some effort, but that would take…you know, effort. So, in some ways, I’m still the restless little baby who pitched a hissy fit every time an adult set her down and she had to stay stuck in one place for any length of time.

Knowing how much of a psychological game-changer it was for me to learn to walk, and how much movement has meant to me over the subsequent four decades, maybe I should take this master’s degree I’m earning and become an “eco therapist” who leads her clients on nature hikes. 🤔

Anyway, I think the fact that I sat relatively still through entire 3+-hour classes, all school year long, without completely melting down, is at least a small sign of maturity. And I didn’t knock anyone over, bolting for the door at dismissal time…I only shoved the occasional classmate out of the way when they took too long to clear the aisle!

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Payoff

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Allow me just one moment of pure, unadulterated elation, universe. Can you do that? Let me snap my head back and yell at the top of my lungs, without worrying what’s going to fall out of the sky and knock me out when my guard is down.

OK? Here goes:

I PAID OFF MY CREDIT CARD!!!!

*Sigh* Thanks. That felt good. Now, I’ll get back to watching this student loan number climb and wondering how long that’s gonna take to take care of, while my husband tabulates how much he needs me to contribute to the credit cards in his name, which have been used for our vacations and household projects over the past 15 years….

It’s always something, you know? But I do want to commemorate this occasion and enjoy the here and now a little bit, before I allow what’s next to consume me.

Just a few years ago, that effing credit card was maxed out, y’all! Something like 10 grand! I signed up for that shit in another lifetime, at the GAP, to get 20% off clothes I have long since stopped wearing — can’t even remember the last time I thought about the GAP, much less shopped there. But since it was a regular VISA, I used it for every little thing: gas, groceries, sports tickets, half-marathon and fitness competition registrations, car repairs, restaurant and bar checks trumped up by numerous shots of Patron, weekly trips to the liquor store where I never spent less than $60. …

I can’t pretend to know everything that was on there, but I guarantee four digits were blown on alcohol.

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graduate school, sober lifestyle

Release

jenwielgusjournalism
Just a few more steps until it’s 3 YEARS! 🥳

One of the many strange things about me is my schedule. For example, I consider it “running late” to arrive at my local high school track any time after 5:30AM on a weekend morning, and by that point, I’ve most likely been awake for at least two hours, doing school work and/or yoga while awaiting the daylight.

I don’t even want to tell you when I usually go to bed.

This past Saturday, there was already someone else at the track, jogging laps with a visible sweat ring around the neckline of their T-shirt, when I pulled up. Nothing wrong with that, except it prohibits me from engaging in other strange proclivities, such as singing out loud to my workout playlist as I run.

I’m back to doing that again — under the right circumstances — now that I’m 35 months sober.

I find myself belting out lyrics at the top of the hill at Tyler State (when the sun is just rising and it’s still deserted), or out on secluded patches of the Delaware Canal path (why does a biker always come out of nowhere when I think I’m alone and catch me, mid-bellow? 😫), and I wonder where all this lightheartedness is coming from.

Even “normal” behavior, like cranking up the stereo and carpool-karaoke-ing as I drive to class on Thursday nights, feels a little weird.

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sober lifestyle

Apathy

jenwielgusjournalism
Source: @anxiety_wellbeing

No offense to the lovely and not-at-all-annoying humans in my orbit, but one of the best decisions I ever made was to “clean up” my Instagram feed so it includes only psychology, sobriety, mental health and therapy-related content.

Now, when I’m strapped into the struggle bus for what feels like a never-ending, monotonous ride, scrolling on my phone can be an effective way to self-soothe. It actually lifts my spirits when I come across posts like these 👀⬆️⬇️ and relate to them on a deep level.

All these ubiquitous, faceless accounts with underscore-heavy handles really get me! I am not alone!

Source: @global_mental_health_support
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