UPDATES

UPDATES
My Year Without Sex would love to hear your comments and opinions - let me know what you think or how you relate.
Also, please let others know about this blog - share on Twitter, Facebook, your blog, email to your grandma - let's spread the word.
Thanks for joining me on this journey!

Thursday 31 December 2015

THIS WEEK IN THERAPY - LETTERS FROM HELL - PART III (DESPAIR IN THE UNDERWORLD)

Continuing the piecing together of my trip to the Underworld (aka the deepest, darkest places of the psyche), I will go through the notes I made while in that state and try to elaborate on their meaning and the feelings I was experiencing at the time.

***If you are confused, please read the first part of the series Letters from Hell – Part I (Waking Darkness) and the second part Letters from Hell – Part II (Manifesting Oblivion)***

I’ve kept the original bullet notes and then expanded on the idea below.

THIS WEEK IN THERAPY - LETTERS FROM HELL - PART II (MANIFESTING OBLIVION)

Continuing the piecing together of my trip to the Underworld (aka the deepest, darkest places of the psyche), I will go through the notes I made while in that state and try to elaborate on their meaning and the feelings I was experiencing at the time. This post deals mostly with the physical manifestations of hell.

***If you are confused, please read the first part of the series Letters from Hell – Part I (Waking Darkness)***

I’ve kept the original bullet notes and then expanded on the idea below.

Tuesday 29 December 2015

CANCER OF THE SOUL - SYMPTOM VS. DISEASE

It’s odd now to talk about it.  Even through my therapy process, we rarely discussed it.  I hid it from everyone.  Not intentionally, it just never really came up.  No one ever asked, “AJ, are you an alcoholic?”  Everyone knew I could drink most people under the table.  It was just who I was.  No one looked twice.

For many years, I was what I call a “functioning alcoholic”.  I tried not to drink before going to work, but at any other point in time, you could be assured, I was drinking.  I used to tell myself, “as long as it doesn’t affect your job, you’re safe.”  The truth was, I wasn’t.  I was drowning my emotions in a sea of booze.  I always dreaded the forms at a doctor’s office.  They looked like this:

Alcohol consumption per week:  0-1drink ____ 1-2 drinks____ 3-4 drinks____ 5+drinks____

Well, I would laugh.  The answer was always 5+, but that was more accurately per day than per week (though technically still not a lie).  I would think, ‘are there really people who have less than 5 drinks per week??’ I tried once to calculate the amount of drinks I had in a given day and reached 10, but then I remembered that I had 2 glasses of wine for lunch and half a bottle of champagne for breakfast (it was a day off), plus the two shots I took before leaving the house.  It was staggering that I couldn’t even recall the amount I had consumed in a given day, let alone a week.  Weekly consumption needed to be counted in bottles and cases.  This also does not include the pot I smoked daily.

Looking back, I didn’t feel anything for years.  Every part of me was numbed by drugs or alcohol whenever I could.  I was a harmless drunk, if anything, I was a very loving drunk.  When I was really on the sauce, you could be sure there were more than few drunk dials of love.  Fortunately, they were mostly to my sister.  No one worries about the happy drunk – everything seems fine.

Recently, I mean very recently, maybe two months or so, I have nearly stopped drinking.  Not intentionally.  There was no specific event that spurred me to quit or even cut back.  I think I have been the person most shocked by it.  I just don’t really drink anymore.  I will have the occasional beverage, but now, I fit into a box on the doctor’s forms.  I may have a drink every 3-4 days in a social setting, but that’s all.  I go WHOLE DAYS without drinking.  For someone who consumed 7-15 drinks per day on average and thought nothing of consuming 20+ drinks on a day off, that’s HUGE!!!  I told my therapist that I couldn’t remember the last time I had a drink, I was so proud.  Granted, it was within the last week, but it was days before, not hours.