Today I visited my doctor, the one who months ago spoke to me in a way I was ready to understand about the possibility I might be an alcoholic. The next day I had gone to a recommended place and discovered this was a certainty, for me, personally.
The day I knew I was an alcoholic was one of the best days in my life.
So before I talk more about that, well, today – the doctor’s. We reviewed how I was doing. He asked me how the summer went, with all the barbecues and beer and booze flowing. I told him quite honestly it hadn’t been a problem. I talked to him about a few of my concerns. We straightened all that out then he said he didn’t need to see me for another year.
He shook my hand firmly and told me succinctly, “Good job.” I looked right at him and said simply, “Thank you. You can’t imagine how different my life is now.”
And since then I’ve been reflecting how much it means to me, that he thinks I could handily do a year on the track I’ve been on.
I only sat with him ten minutes today. I’ve had so little time with him over all this – the biggest change in my life, besides the birth of my children – and I suppose he’s just another person of many who has influenced me in such a deep-down amazing way – but I wonder if he realizes the gratitude I feel for his assistance, his intervention in my life (although, truth told, I did go see him for help because I wasn’t getting answers elsewhere… and I have followed suggestions every day since). After we said goodbye I walked out to the reception window, made that seemingly way-off followup appointment, then stepped out to the waiting room where my son waited. Then my boy and I went out to lunch together.
I write this out a bit because I am so incredibly grateful for my life today. I’ve come to know entirely new meanings of “help”, and love and care and wisdom. I’ve come to see the folly and death inherant in the myth of self-sufficiency. I’ve experienced serenity for the first time since I was a young child. I’m slowly growing up my emotions and shedding some of those horrible drives I’ve lived with since long before I took my first drink: shame, blame, guilt, remorse. Terror and anger.
I really didn’t know how much I lived with them until they started to slip away. As they say, this didn’t happen overnight, and I say that because if you’re suffering now I want you to know you won’t always be suffering.
I expect to keep growing.
Today was a good day. I went on a wonderful morning run in the fog, I took my son somewhere wonderful in the morning, I had time with both kids separately, I helped a few people and someone who needed support told me I made her day, I made her smile. I stand to have some hot tea with honey and a good rest.
Who knows what tomorrow will bring?
***
In other news, I CAN’T STOP MAKING BABY MITTENZ
I’m glad to know that you’re feeling on the right track; you come across as lighter these last few months. By which I mean your spirit seems to shine through your writing much brighter. Does that make sense? Taking pleasure in small things and taking care of yourself, small steps toward serenity. It’s a good thing.
I, too, had lunch with my boy, just the 2 of us and it was wonderful to watch him. Yes, he’s only 2 but he was just about the most perfect little 2 year-old, eating his turkey sandwich and sharing my chips and fruit. He was calmer and more interested in eating than my oldest often is. No spilling, no shouting about the food, just plain awesomeness. And at least 3 old ladies told me how wonderful they thought he was. We even shared a cookie afterwards. Moments one-on-one are so good to have with each one.
And can I just say, how f-ing cute the baby mittens are?