Author: Lisa

FREE WEBINARS NOW

Posted on by Lisa

I’ll be doing several free webinars through YouTube for the next week or so. There will be a transcript of the content provided, including the resources used. I’ll also be offering my best technique (from the world of trauma therapy) to help you get through that next urge to drink.

So follow the links below and come see me in person! I’ll be answering these burning (LOL) questions:

Why Can’t I be a “Normal Drinker”?

What Causes the “Out of the Blue” Relapse?

*

Why Our Personalities Change When we Drink

How To Register:

          The links lead you to a registration page where you’ll be asked to provide your name and email address. This is just for Lisa’s purposes and for reminders.

A ten-minute reminder will be sent to that email address as well as a replay sent afterword. If you’d prefer the link sent to your email, request it from Lisa @ lisa@betterthansober.com

Where’s the Weekly Blog?

Posted on by Lisa

So, since we’ve been stuck inside, I’ve decided to ramp up my efforts to help you more than I have.

Alcohol consumption is up, people are stressed, and something more beneficial than blogging my personal experiences is in order.

Before Covid-19, I had begun creating a sobriety program — combining all my knowledge and experiences into a comprehensive multi-week course, designed to help alcoholics implement the practices I use to help refocus the brain’s obsession with alcohol.

I’ve decided it would serve most of my readers better to stop blogging, temporarily, in order to dedicate all my time to finishing the program and having it available earlier rather than later.

So, that’s where I am for the moment. I’m working on generating a wait list for you to add your name if you’d like to be notified when the course is ready, so please check back later as “my IT person” — I use that term loosely as it’s my daughter, who may or may not be readily available, so it may take a day or two.

I do invite anyone out there, who fancies themselves a writer, to try their hand at blogging their personal experiences around alcoholism, alcohol use, — wins and losses alike, etc. Email your blog to me @ lisa@betterthansober.com and we’ll discuss publishing it under your name. That may be a good way to give readers various and related content yet not tie up all my time (I am a slow writer and something of a perfectionist).

Thank you for your understanding and cooperation. I’ll let you know when the program is ready to go!

My Last Relapse. Ever.

Posted on by Lisa

I woke up on a Monday morning with a splitting headache. I’m intimately familiar with this particular headache; I’ve had it before in my life – many times in the past. Was this a bad drinking dream or was it real?

Slowly, it all started coming back to me as I stumbled out of bed and into the bathroom. I looked at myself in the mirror, and for the first time, looking at my puffy blood-shot eyes, I didn’t completely hate myself for what happened. There was not the usual berating voice amplified in my ears saying, “You no-good, selfish, weak, P-O-S! How could you have done this AGAIN!?”

I learned something. And I do completely understand, inside and out, what happened and why I relapsed. So while this wasn’t my first rodeo, it was my first one with absolute clarity. And that was worth the price of admission. Clarity was the first gift.

Negative reinforcement doesn’t help you stop drinking.

Back when I used to relapse regularly (I use that term loosely and will be publishing a blog next week that explains what I mean by relapse), the day after was almost as bad as the actual event. (Unless it was one of the DUI experiences, when the nightmare continued for much longer than the drunk, and a hangover was the least of my worries.)

In the past, after a drunk, I didn’t just beat myself up; I abused myself relentlessly, berated myself for hours, and punished myself for days. I’ve written about the punitive measures I took out upon myself here, trying to negatively motivate myself to quit drinking. It was not helpful in the least. So, if you’re into that for yourself, stop. It doesn’t work, trust me.

This relapse was different. It was so clear to me what was happening in my brain and my body, it was nearly surreal. Let me set it up for you.

I had had a heated argument with my significant other, and when I’m upset about something in a relationship, I need to fix it immediately. I’ve always had a lot of insecurities around relationships.

Insecurity around relationships? You’re like me.

My relationships are extremely important to me – a hallmark characteristic of people like me. So, if you feel the same way about your relationships – like they’re the most important thing next to alcohol, of course, then relax, you’re in good company.

Normally, my significant other is quite cooperative and we talk things out, but this time was different. He was really angry, and he didn’t want to talk to me. He needed to process things. I kept after him, trying to force some sort of communication, but he shut me down.

The silence — that lack of engagement, shutting me out, made me crazy! I was outraged!

Anger is a big one for me. I’ve had a lot of it over the years. It drives me, and it can be either destructive or motivating.

When it’s destructive, anger hijacks me emotionally, and I often drink because I think I cannot tolerate or contain it.

So on this day, when he wouldn’t engage with me, that snubbing, coupled with my growing anger, frustration, and unsettling energy, made me nuts. He left to get some distance. I tried to call him, and he hung up on me.

Again, outrage and the lack of the ability to control him and the situation, left me feeling desperately disturbed and edgy. Like always, his alcohol cabinet was right there — three feet away.

Not the “out of the blue” relapse.

Usually people say, “And out of the blue, I was drinking. I don’t know why.”

But I knew why, this time. It was very clear, and I was absolutely sure why I was drinking. I wanted to feel better. I wanted to feel calmer inside. I needed to relieve an insecurity I was feeling about him and this relationship, and I needed it now. It felt like a compulsion. Right here and right now.

Yet, I was aware of the compulsion (generally we are not). Awareness was another gift, and it’s what happens when both parts of you – the drinking you and the non-drinking you – have good communication. One knows what the other one wants, what she’s doing, and why.

At first it was just a tiny thought in my mind, around a lot of emotional charge in my body. Physically, I had this fretful feeling of needing to move or do something, it’s hard to explain, but there was definitely a physical component to it.

I was pacing, and thinking frantically, and the feeling was growing. It felt like the personification of these growing words: move, MOVE, M-O-V-E, M-O-V-E! Does that make sense?

Dopamine is behind restlessness and irritability.

I’ve known this feeling before. It’s very familiar. And the bad thing? It demands action. This urge demands to be addressed in some way, it will not be ignored.

I did give the urge lip service with, “I can’t do that. I haven’t drank in so long, alcohol isn’t what I need. It won’t change anything. That’s not the answer, and I know it.” But even as I said it to myself, I knew I had already made the decision.

Those words are intellectual understanding, but the urge to drink is a physical and emotional experience.

Do you know when you make the decision to drink?

I do. It’s clear. And once the decision is made, it’s a done deal. No one could say anything to make me change my mind. This is between me, myself, and I, and once I’ve made the decision, it’s all over but the pouring.

That’s why calling my sponsor never did a thing for me. She can’t get into my head, only I can do that. And I’ll tell her whatever she wants to hear, to get off the phone, but I’ll stay on this drinking train and will not be derailed. Period. That’s how this works for me.

The funny thing is that I felt the internal sigh of relief immediately. Before I’d even decided which spirit to go with; before I poured it; before I smelled it; and before it touched my lips, I felt a twinge of relief. Relief comes from within. And that I understood now as well.  Another gift.

It hasn’t been until recently that I’ve been able to pinpoint when I feel relief from drinking. Interestingly, it doesn’t come with ingesting the alcohol.

Often, I feel a little bit of euphoria before I actually secure “the goods”. On the way to the liquor store, or while waiting at the bar for the drink to be prepared, the sense of relief morphs into excitement almost. Excited anticipation, with a hint of certainty that very soon everything inside me was going to change for the better; even if it was temporary.
(I wrote about why that is here)

Alcoholism lives in the older brain — in the NOW.

At that point, if you’re like me, you don’t care. The urge isn’t into the future because it’s all about the now.

So, on this day of relapse – my last relapse – I felt it all. I watched it play out externally, and I felt it play out internally.

From the first sip, and the familiar warmth in my belly; to several more sips with the warmth spreading, it’s all so familiar and disappointing.  That was the extent of my comfort –not enjoyment. Don’t confuse comfort with enjoyment. If you’re like me, you drink to comfort yourself, not for enjoyment.

Another half a drink, and I had gone beyond the initial gratification and was already passing into a mediocre phase. My few moments were gone. It would be all downhill from here.  

The two drinking voices in our heads.

This time, for the first time I can ever remember, I was acutely aware of my logical, rational, sober side drifting away slowly and becoming quiet. That’s the side of me who doesn’t want to drink. That’s the side of me who will wake me up tomorrow and demand, “What were you thinking? Why did you do that?”

And she would say I deserve the headache and nausea because I was a weak, worthless, no good piece of shit. But she would be wrong — for the first time in my life as well, I wouldn’t buy that line about myself.

For the first time, I would know what I am, and I would feel compassion for and defend myself. But for now, she was quiet because that rational part of the brain dissolves in alcohol. I know that now too. Another gift — they just keep coming!

The first drink is the only one that matters.

The point of no return is the exact moment when you make the decision to drink.

That’s when you know what’s coming, at some point in the future, and no one or nothing can stop the inevitable progression. The only question now is how drunk are we going to get? And how bad is it going to be when we sober up? And how are we going to handle it? But right now, that doesn’t matter, because that’s then and this is now.

The then and now awareness is yet another gift. Being keenly aware of those two sides of me – the drinking and non-drinking parts – is invaluable. One wants it now, will not be denied, and does not care or know about the future. It doesn’t remember the last really bad drunk, and it’s incapable of considering future consequences, and she’s the one in charge right now — for the last time.

I had three or four drinks at home, then I walked to a local restaurant/bar and had a couple more, then I came back home and went to bed.

Okay, to be honest, I passed out — but for the last time!

The next morning, I woke up with a headache, and a lot of gifts to open and unpack with you here.

 Relapse used to mean confession, guilt, shame, remorse, self-hatred, disappointment, and starting all over. For 20+ years, that was my MO. But now, relapse – often normal and par for the course of long-term sobriety, is so much more valuable than I ever imagined it could be.

Understanding myself and why I drink isn’t just the goal; it is the only way for me to have long-term, secure sobriety. I am convinced of this, and believe me, I’ve done it the other way many times.

Intimate familiarity with the reasons you drink is the key

When you know your need to drink inside and out; you know your recovery in the same way, and you own them both. You choose which will control your behavior, and you do have a choice, trust me.

I was just able to describe exactly what and why it all happened. I used to have no clue at all and would relapse over and over again with little clarity or understanding, but plenty of self-loathing. I was on that same mysterious ride for a long time, so I’ve sort of paid my dues, ya know?

If you’re tired of paying your dues, and are ready for getting down to the true reasons you drink, and getting this stinking shit out of your life for good, stick with me; I’m about to help you because I can.

This Monday was the happiest I’ve ever been after being drunk the night before! And I can remember wanting to hurry up and sober up, so I could write it all down and show myself what I’d learned, and why it would be my last relapse.

Never to relapse again! Do you know how good that feels? Never to hate myself for this again! Do you know how much good I feel like can do for you because I’ve learned from all my horrible experiences? They seem to now have some value, after all.

Like I know now why I’ve had the experiences I’ve had, and how I can help others, like you.

I Would if I Could, but I Can’t. Why?

Posted on by Lisa

Hang on, just hang on for a minute
I’ve got something to say
I’m not asking you to move on or forget it
But these are better days
To be wrong all along and admit is not amazing grace
But to be loved like a song you remember
Even when you’ve changed

Did I go on a tangent and lie through my teeth?
Did I cause you to stumble on your feet?
Did I bring shame on my family?
Did it show when I was weak?
Whatever you see, that wasn’t me
That wasn’t me, that wasn’t me

This is one of my favorite songs from one of my favorite artists (“That Wasn’t Me” by Brandi Carlile), especially since I’ve quit drinking. I first heard it from an AA group because it’s become something of a theme song for those of us grappling to understand why we behave in ways we can’t explain, especially when we’re using.

Apparently I’m not the only one.

There is this inexplicable phenomenon which occurs in many addicted people, where they behave in ways uncharacteristic of their “normal” behavior. By “normal”, I mean their character or personality when they’re uninfluenced or unaffected by drugs and alcohol.

And indeed, it hasn’t been until recently that I’ve personally been able to understand and explain it. So, this phenomenon has been almost as mysterious and inexplicable for me as it was for those watching.

I simply knew, however, that — even while drinking and subsequently lying about it, manipulating, being dishonest and hiding — in my heart of hearts, that wasn’t me.

Does realizing it change anything? No, it doesn’t. Does finally being able to quit drinking change any of it? No. Am I asking anyone to move on and forget it? No. But do I need to? Yes. And I have.

It’s truly a tough place to be.

The shame of behaving in ways contrary to my true nature though – especially when it hurt people I truly love – often caused me to drink just to live with myself, and so, as you can imagine, rarely did I like myself. Hard to like yourself – much less love yourself – when you don’t even trust yourself, and you do things you can’t explain or understand and hurt people all along the way.

I now understand and will explain this phenomenon, and again, even though it changes nothing from the past, it does help me to remind myself, especially when I have regret, which I do, still. (I’ve written in detail about this in a blog called “I Blame Alcohol”, and you can read it here).

When we’re addicted, we are physically and mentally addicted. That’s one point with which I agree with AA.  Our bodies crave it, and our minds justify our actions in getting it; they go hand in hand. So, let me try to explain this.

Ingrained addiction is unconscious and nearly instinctual by nature.

Addiction happens in the older part of the brain where our unconscious instincts live. If it had conscious awareness, we never would have made it out of the trees. During evolution, when you have to react in nanoseconds to constant life/death situations, the last thing your brain would have you do is think. To think about it is to die; this part of the brain is all about reaction and survival. So, it’s good we have this part of the brain; it got us here.

Nor does this ancient brain have past or future awareness either; it doesn’t need it. Its only job is to get us to the next 30 seconds alive, so it doesn’t consider future possible consequences, nor remember past actions/events, no matter how shameful they were. This part of the brain isn’t into long-term gratification. And neither is the addicted, especially when they’re actively using. I certainly wasn’t.

So, that’s one problem.

We are at its mercy, and it is relentless.

But the real problem is that the part of the brain which does have future and past awareness – the Prefrontal Cortex – isn’t in control. Well, sometimes it is – enough so that we appear to be pretty “normal” in many circumstances — but with this drinking thing, it’s the older part of the brain that’s running the show. So, there’s that.

And this is an irrelevant side note, but I used to often be very frustrated because no one ever saw the hundreds of thousands of times I was able to resist the urge! They only saw when I wasn’t, and then it was so obviously public and embarrassing. No wonder we try to hide it.

Why could they never see how often and successfully I resisted? If only they could see how hard it was, and how strong I was, they might understand and respect me.  But I was too ashamed of the need – which felt akin to survival, and I’m about to get to that. But my actions only highlighted my weakness. That’s just the way of it, I guess.

So remember, for that one transgression you see, it may have been preceded by hundreds of acts of tremendous will power that go unnoticed and unrecognized. Okay, so back to the brain.

But why do we do such dumb stuff?

The Prefrontal Cortex is also where decision-making, our individual personality, our morality, and our values live (among so many other things that make us who we are, it’s unfathomable; this is very simplified explanation.)

And to make matters worse, this part of the brain is negatively influenced by many factors including stress, drugs, and alcohol. Yeah, no joke! How fair is this?!

When we drink, use drugs, or are under extended or severe stress, we lose access to the Prefrontal Cortex. It goes offline, so to speak; dissolves; gone; out to lunch; closed for business – however you want to word it. That’s why, when we drink, our personalities change, we don’t make good decisions, and we do things that we wouldn’t normally do. Make sense?

And then we don’t hear from that logical part of our brain again until the next morning when the drunk wears off, or after the pills have already been lifted. And that’s when we realize what we did, often for the first time.

And trust me – that is a sobering and bleak personal moment indeed. That is the most incomprehensibly demoralizing moment of awareness one can ever have about oneself, and it should never be felt. It is void of anything good, barren of hope or optimism; I can’t find the words to explain that moment or how many times I felt it.

And the bitter irony? I did it to myself. How do you explain that? Again, there aren’t many words I can find to explain this feeling.

You feel like you are the addiction.

Hence, the “cunning, baffling, and powerful” nature of what we’re talking about. It is a part of you; you are it, and it is you. There is no separation. And if you’ve never experienced it, then you can’t possibly understand. While you’re still standing in front of the mirror reciting, “I love you”, we aren’t sure how to get out of bed without wanting to blow our brains out. Just saying.

The big problem is that the addicted brain has mis-assigned alcohol with waay more value than it deserves, because it assesses everything we experience by how it feels. Yes, how it feels. This older instinctual brain’s assessment system is simple and based on only two criteria: is it good or bad? Positive characteristics or negative ones? Two speeds, that’s it.

Keep in mind there wasn’t a great deal of variety in our environment way back then, but potentially lethal danger lurked everywhere. So, if it smelled, tasted, felt, sounded or looked okay or good, then the brain coded it – in a matter of nanoseconds and unconsciously — necessary for survival, and moved us toward it. How did it do that? By generating the urge to get it; again, and again, and again. Starting to make sense?

Feels good = survive; bad = dead.

Conversely, if it had negative or bad characteristics, it was coded detrimental to survival, and the brain would move us away from that particular thing or experience. And this assessment is still there and working in our skulls the same way it has for eons; hence our modern addiction problem.

Now if the experience/substance was really really good, what kind of rating, so to speak, do you think it got? And how does alcohol feel? To me, it was the best thing I’d ever felt!

Alcohol causes such unnaturally high spikes in “feel-good chemicals” that, over time, the brain moves it all the way to the top of the hierarchy of survival needs. It becomes more important than sex (mating to this ancient brain structure), self-defense (physical safety), and even food – at least temporarily. That’s the kind of power we’re talking about.

In the face of such bazaar behavior, “normal drinkers” will often incredulously ask, “To what extent will the addicted go for their drug of choice”? Well, think about it.

If we’ll gradually give up our homes, our families, our marriages, tons of money, our freedom, our bodies (sex), and even food – nourishment for God’s sake, do you think a little self-respect is going to matter? Especially in the moment of intense desire?

Do we behave like it’s a matter of survival?

I felt like it was, that’s all I know. I understand why that is now, but then? Not a chance. It felt like instinct. It felt like necessity. It felt like survival, at times.

And how great is our instinct to survive? As great as millions of years of biological imperative. So when it comes down to a decision to tell a little lie or snag a bottle of something when no one’s looking, do you think our now muddled morality would be much of a deterrent? It’s not.

And that is truly a terrible position to be in. Can you imagine? Try to; just for a second. This is an exercise in empathy. It was truly agonizing, confusing, baffling, terribly difficult, and no really good option, ya know?

“I’m not asking you to move on or forget it, but these are better days.”

Now, all this being said and explained, I’ll leave it to Brandi. The rest of the song goes like this:

When you’re lost you will toss every lucky coin you’ll ever trust
And you’ll hide from your god like he never turns his back on us
And you’ll fall all the way to the bottom and land on your own knife
And you’ll learn who you are even if it doesn’t take your life

But see, that’s the problem – when you’re addicted, you don’t really know who you are. In the throes of addiction, you’re one person; and after the terrible fact of the decision you had to make, you’re a different person.

And how many times do we have to land on our own knives? How many times do we have to be punished for something that we shouldn’t have had to experience in the first place? And who decides when we’ve redeemed ourselves enough to be trusted? I can tell you who decides that in my world. I do.

I live the price for my transgressions every day. I lost just about all that was good, including my self-respect, and I realize that it was at my own hand, so shame on me. That’s the hardest part to accept.

But yeah, “these are better days”, and it’s about damn time. So, if I’ve behaved like a POS for the first 50 years of my life, but now I know why and have turned it around, I figure I’ll spend the rest of my life – which hopefully will be another 30+ years (if heredity has anything to do with it, I should make it to my mid-80’s) – helping other alcoholics figure out this brain thing, I should be pretty damned redeemed; and fulfilled.

I Can Change

To end on an optimistic note, and because music inspires me, the song I’d like to make a theme for my site and my life’s work is by Lake Street Dive, and I encourage you to listen to it right now. It was written for me – and you – if you’re struggling with alcohol or addiction, and the title says it all.

Hate casts a long shadow
I know that I lie in it
And let it rule my mind from time to time
Escapin’ an old battle
That clings on like a vine to me
Whispers dirty lies in my ear. I know we didn’t start this fight
And I won’t let it rule my heart tonight

I can change
I can change
I can still change
I can still change

Tracin’ an old pattern
Drawing the lines from where I am and from where I wanna be
Forget that old adage
That history continues to keep us from the world we wanna see

I am scared that I won’t get it right
But fear won’t rule my heart tonight

I can change
I can change
I can still change
I can still change

My Mother

Posted on by Lisa

Dedicated to Marilyn Jean Wooldridge Hagan

When I quit drinking, even though I was told to do this “one day at a time”, I did think ahead to some possible life situations, which may require me to give up my resolve and get drunk.

What are the possible life events, which I know will probably happen in the future, that I can’t handle without drinking?

The only one I could come up with, was the death of my parents. Especially my mom.

My mom, with her bouffant hairdo. Must have been the 1960’s.

So, here it is . . . my mom is dying. Will I drink?

In a mere two days, we went from initial CT scan and diagnosis, to Hosparus (end of life specialists) arriving.

At first, it was shocking. Because even though my mother was eighty-three years old, only a few short months ago, she was driving herself to familiar places, and taking care of her personal needs.

She slept a lot and lacked energy and enthusiasm for life, but those were the only obvious symptoms. She had been diagnosed with Alzheimer’s, a few years ago, but she was taking medication and that was progressing as expected.

But these newer symptoms, including weight loss, weakness, and excessive lethargy were different.

Not only did my mom have Alzheimer’s, but she also had an aggressive form of “The Emperor of all Maladies” – cancer. (Pulitzer prize-winning title by Siddhartha Mukherjee.) And it was pretty much everywhere – bones, lungs, liver, stomach, and brain.

This, my friends, is very grave news, indeed.

I like the pic on left because it reminds me of me.

Suddenly, staying with her 24/7 was a must because we found her on the floor twice, once with a scraped and bleeding nose, when left unattended. Physically and mentally, she began slipping away a little more each day, and it was excruciating to witness.

So, am I drunk?

That’s the question that may have been on many minds those days, when they weren’t consumed with the thoughts and emotions surrounding my mother’s situation. (Or at least I thought it was on everyone’s minds, and that’s important to me and drinking, but it’s another blog all together.)

And the answer is no, I’m not.

Have I thought about it? Honestly, a time or two I have, but since I quit drinking, I’ve really been working with my brain and nervous system, so I respond differently to life’s inevitable difficult situations. And so far, it had been working, in my everyday, mundane struggles. But this was a serious test, for sure.

Bad news used to be good reason to drink.

I remember how I used to use bad news as a reason to drink. Well, this was really bad news. And it’s the one thing I said I couldn’t handle without alcohol, yet, here I am – still experiencing it without drinking. A day at a time? You betcha; in more ways than one.

What’s my secret?

Most of my life before now, I had been one to see only the negative aspects of most situations, (another common trait for drinkers like me, and also another blog article). Part of my recent work has been to intentionally make myself consider all possible aspects of all situations. And to understand and realize that every situation has both good, and bad aspects. Nothing can be all one or the other. That’s just the way my brain used to process the world.

We can change our brains; did you know that?

And not only did I used to see only the negative aspects, but I often would amplify them, unconsciously, thus minimizing the good even more. But I’ve learned that not many situations are inherently 100% good or bad.

Usually, they contain fragments of both, depending on your perspective. And if you can find one good thing, you can find two. And if you can find two, you can find three, and so on until, eventually, your perspective changes.  Even when your mother is dying.

So here’s my take on this terrible, shocking, sometimes agonizing situation, as I searched for something good.

My mom’s death seemed to have the makings of a – “Ahem” how shall I say this? – a well – this sounds so weird – but to be honest, this sounds like a “perfect death”, if there’s any such thing. Let me explain because that sounds really weird, I know.

But imagine you had the opportunity to actually plan your own death. What would you plan it to look like? Weird question, isn’t it?

But one, that if you allow yourself the luxury of contemplating it now, you might actually realize that you do have preferences.  I mean, no one wants to dwell on their own death, but hey, we’re all dying at some point, right? Like no one has ever gotten out alive, you know that, right?  May as well think about it from time to time. It might help guide you on your journey through life.

How do you want your death to go?

Quick, painless, and with no warning whatsoever? Fatal car crash? Hit by a bus/train? You know, an accident.

Or would you rather know about it before hand so you could talk to the important ones and get all your ducks in a row? This is worth thinking about.

If I had the opportunity to plan my death, I would plan something very similar to what my mom experienced. I’m calling it a “perfect death”.

Mom with some ” important ones”.

My mom’s “perfect death”.

  • First and foremost, to have lived a long and mostly happy life.
    • I think my mom has done this. She was eighty-three, and has been healthy most all her life, and as happy as she knew how to be with the experiences and thoughts she had.
  • Second, and very important to my mother — to be at peace with your life’s decisions and your God.
    • My mother told me over a year ago, she was ready to die, and if it happened any time soon, she was okay with it. She was a devout Catholic, and lived according to her understanding of the church’s doctrines. And, as of the week she was diagnosed, she had received all the sacraments a Catholic can. So, in other words, she was good to go (Father, Son, and Holy Spirit), and she was pretty certain as to where that was going to be.
  • Another important factor I think, is to physically be in the presence of the “important ones” in your life. Hopefully, you have plenty of them.
    • My mom was in the same house she and my dad (her husband for almost 60 years) built to suit. The house that knows the secrets, the denied dysfunction, and the love.  It was where she lived almost 60 years of her 83, so it was only natural and comfortable place for her to die. Like that’s the way it’s supposed to be, ya know?
    • And she was with her children, grandchildren, and great grandchildren – the “important ones”. We were coming and going 24/7 around her. We took turns lighting for several hours on a schedule. I, personally, was delighted in my time with her alone, for the most part. Every second, I tried to stay present with my mother, knowing it could be the last lucid conversation I would ever have with her. And I felt privileged to fetch her a blanket or freshen her water.

If only I could have lived this way every day with her!

 Why didn’t I? No drama. No ego. No history. No “stories” we tell ourselves. Just sweet precious time; because now there is no more of it. But that’s my regret, and this is her perfect death. So, let’s continue.

  • To know it, and have time to say goodbye, but not be given too much time to fear, ruminate, and worry.
    • We learned about the cancer only weeks before she passed, and while it’s true my mom was older, this was completely unexpected. So we all needed a little time to get used to it. And that’s all we had – a little time.
    • Too much time would have been difficult, I think. It would be dreadful indeed, for her death to have been dragged out over months.

It was the perfect amount of time for me, personally.

More perfection! How did I get this lucky?! Early on, when I was sure she was lucid and fully aware of who I was, I had the important conversations with her that she and I needed. Not only making eye contact, but connecting with the familiar individual within, I said to her,

“Do you know how much I’ve loved you? Do you know how much I’ve needed you all my life, mom? I came to you helpless, and you kept me alive and as comfortable as you knew how until I could make it on my own. And then some. Do you realize you gave me life, and then you gave me a really good start to life, and I realize that and thank you for it now? And do you also know that I am independent, strong, courageous, and sure I will make it without you. I may be frightened, at times, but I am capable. Thanks to you.

My parents about 3 years ago.

I will miss you so much I can’t even fathom, and you know that, don’t you? Because I know how much you’ve missed your mother all these years. But it’s okay, isn’t it? We can make it with those memories, can’t we? It’s why we have them., and they bring us comfort. You’ve done really good work, mom. With your one life, you’ve done really good work here. Bravo to you, mom, this is how I hope to feel at the end of my life. ”

It doesn’t get any better than this to me. And it’s why I say that my mother, in my opinion, had “the perfect death.”

What more could you add that matters? Think about it.

Then add it, take out, and modify this plan any way you want to create what you really want your death to look like.

Think about who you’re leaving behind, not what. The what doesn’t matter, it’s just stuff we collect along the way, but how much do we really need it?

What good did any of the stuff matter to my mom at the end? Not one bit. In those last months — the bank account, no matter how great or small; the house(s) – no matter where they’re located; and the multitude of souvenirs from years of living we all collect – they all mean absolutely nothing towards the end.

So what does matter if all that doesn’t? What is important when all that we’ve given our entire life’s ambition to acquiring, ceases to be important in the least? If you don’t realize it now; you will eventually, even if it is at your very last breath. It’s the who, not the what, that’s important.

It’s the people you touched and how you made them feel who will continue to live on, and they will pass on what you gave to them. So give this some serious thought, my friend. It may be a good way to live the rest of your life.

Like a sound that gets fainter as it travels further away

My mom passed away on January 11 around 3:30 a.m. My dad, one sister, and I were with her at the time. It wasn’t a struggle, although her heart rate had increased significantly that day, and her breathing had become alarmingly rapid; like she was working hard to die. Eventually, her breaths became more and more shallow though, and softer, until they just stopped.

She had been surrounded, for weeks, with so much love it was apparently palpable. At her last breath, my father says she was “glowing” (and he is a practical man not prone to drama or fancy), so we feel pretty good about where she is now.

The day of her funeral was beautiful! One sister – poised and courageous — told a poignant eulogy that described my mom perfectly – (sometimes brutally) honest, predictable, and always supportive of her four daughters. One of her granddaughters sang her favorite version of “Ave Maria”, with melodious perfection. And her casket was the center of her last mass.

Mom was ushered into the next life on a bed of roses.

She was buried in her P.J.’s with her favorite Rosary. During the last few days of her life, we had said almost 3,000 Hail Marys on that Rosary – each representing a rose. I say once more, it doesn’t get better than that.

When I was drinking, I had a few serious brushes with death; a couple self-inflicted, and that’s hard for me to grasp now. Did I really ever not want to live?

No. I just wanted to be free of the burden of my mal-adjusted self and the consequences of alcoholism. I’m glad I was not successful. I hate to think that my mother would have had to bury me. And that I would have missed out on this beautiful experience with her. And all of it, completely sober; this is indeed a good way to live.

We aren’t meant to live this life in the lonely throes of drunken oblivion.

If you’re drinking to the tune of a miserable existence, please don’t give up trying to quit. Life is so worth living with a clear head. Think about who you’ll leave behind and what they would feel if you died drunk. And stay with me, here; this is your life, not your death, my friend.

One of the last, and best pics of my mom and her most “important ones”.

I Blame Alcohol

Posted on by Lisa

Dedicated to T, J, B, C, and L. xo

Last night I went to a local restaurant with some friends. We were shown to our table, next to a large party of fourteen or more. I recognized the group and hurried to greet my surprised old friends. Well, they’re not old, the relationship is.

We’ve known one another for years; our children grew up together. In fact, two of our three kiddos were born within a month or so in the same years. We both were stay-at-home moms, sometimes struggling to make all the ends meet, and raising our families.

We were friends when the days were long, and the years short.

After appropriate hugs all around, I returned to my table. As I sat, perusing the menu, I had full view of my friend’s table. And I watched this couple, who were married the same year as me and my ex-husband. Their laughs sounded the same, and I still recognized their shared ‘knowing’ glances passing in between.

Our children have grown up! Their middle son looked like a man – with a full beard! When did that happen? Could this really be that chubby, chatty, little guy I used to know? Where does the time go?

My friends were aging. Like me. And fairly well I’d say, about us all.  We have some gray hair, and carry our weight in different places, but we look pretty good for our ages. And in the face, we look just the same. The eyes reveal the familiar souls within. It was nice to see them as a family.

A family. I had one of those once.

“Poor, poor pitiful me, poor poor pitiful me.” (Linda Ronstadt)

My pleasant reminiscences quickly turned sour with regret, and I started feeling sad and left out. Then I started feeling sorry for myself. I could hear my sister’s words in my ear, taunting me, “Poor pitiful me, poor pitiful Lisa, stop feeling sorry for yourself.” But she’s not here, so I will feel sorry for myself. I have something to feel sorry for; something to mourn and grieve.

Fortunately, it’s not every day, but it is some days, and this is one of those days.

I used to have that very life I’m seeing here in front of me. I lived it when I was growing up, then I planned it for myself. I fell in love, got married, and started a family. A family just like this one here.

Not a perfect family by any stretch, but a solid family. A stable and sturdy family that nurtured, laughed, fought, protected, and loved. And I was a founding member.

A family; I had one of those once.

I started reminiscing. How many restaurants, just like this one, had we sat in together with our children at various ages from infant, to elementary school age, to high school?

How many conversations about the challenges, events, frustration, and joyful moments of raising children had we had over the years past? Many.

How many celebrations, milestones, and anniversaries had we honored together?

How many dreams had we confided on the golf course and in the kitchen? Many.

What happened to my family?

Alcohol.

Alcohol happened. I became an alcoholic. I chose it over this, and now I live with that decision; if you can call it that. This is one of those times when I hate alcohol, because if I don’t hate it, I have to hate myself. And I’ve done that enough. Doesn’t bring back the past.

Addiction demands to be served; just as “pain demands to be felt”*

I finished out dinner with as much gusto as I could muster, said my goodbyes, and started walking home. I was grateful for the setting sun, because a block down the sidewalk, they started. The tears. Streaming. Unabashedly making tracks down my cheeks. I let them. What else can I do?

“How do you handle the regret?”, someone asked me one time. I thought about it and went within. And there it was. It’s still there, and sometimes, like right now, it handles me.

“The Eye” (Brandi Carlile)

As I passed by a restaurant, I heard one of my favorite songs playing. I stopped at the corner to listen to a few lines. “It really breaks my heart to see a dear old friend, go down to that worn out place again.” . . . “And did you think the bottle would ever ease your pain?” . . . “Did you find someone else to take the blame?” . . . “Do you know the sound of a closing door? Have you heard that sound somewhere before?”

How do they do that? Singers, song writers — they know life. They feel it, and they describe it so well, don’t they? Then they put a lovely melody to your life that gets stuck in your head. This song writer, was spot on for me. And yes, I have found something to blame, and as you know; I blame alcohol.

But finally in this song, Brandi Carlile reminds me, “I am a sturdy soul, and there ain’t no shame in lying down in the bed you made.” But there is sorrow in lying down in my bed at times, and that’s just the way it is, no matter who made the damn thing.

It wasn’t the only reason we divorced, but it was huge, as I’m sure you could imagine. Twenty plus years of alcoholic drama and bullshit. You can’t always recover from that, even if you can recover from drinking.

“Envy, after all, comes from wanting something that isn’t yours. But grief comes from losing something you’ve already had.” **

And as far as my friends go, it’s not like I think they’re perfect or don’t struggle. I knew their struggles — intimately once upon a time, and I know they still have them. In fact, they have real life and death struggles. But they weathered the storms, and stayed with it. And I’m glad they did.

I really am so happy for them, sincerely, I am. Because, think about it — when you’re envious, you don’t want others NOT to have; you just want to have too. Right along with ’em; that’s where I should be. But I’m not, and I blame alcohol.

That could have still been me right now. I could still be a part of an intact, stable, committed “little unit”, as my ex-husband, ex-soldier used to call our family. But the deception and manipulation that alcohol caused in me stole it away. Bottle by bottle.

If only I had the knowledge then, that I have now.

By the time I arrived home last night, I was angry at myself, my genes, my weakness, and my inability to understand or change before it was too late. I should have tried harder. I should have been more focused and diligent. I should have found other treatments, paid whatever price, and by whatever means necessary, as they say.

I deserve that simple mundane life with the three bratty (at times) kids, the dog and cat that acts like a dog, and the average, three-bedroom house; with the bills, the headaches, and the in-laws. Because they were my tribe, and I miss it. All of it, that’s what I miss right now. (Well, maybe not the in-laws, really.)

It should still be us together with no alcohol to tear asunder. But it didn’t happen that way.

What happened and why it’s important to you.

It happened this way. We divorced. And we created a monstrous crevice in the collective trajectory of five people, bound at one time by love, commitment, and the same last name.

I remained drunk for a few more years, until I wasn’t anymore; and they watched, waited, gave up, went on without me, then came back again.

Now I’m sober. And yes, sometimes, better than sober. But today? Not so much. There are days like these now too, in sobriety. It is the way of it.

I have a good relationship with my ex-husband and my children. They are adults now and adjusting fine. People are resilient, man! We are all so damned resilient. We have to be. But sometimes, it’s tough, I’m gonna be honest; it is hard to be human.

Change it while you still can.

This is why you can’t give up. If you’re drinking, and you hate it or you hate yourself, I get it. You think I didn’t hate myself? You think I still don’t morn my loss because I’m sober now, and can write these eloquent words about sobriety? You think I don’t have some miserably bleak memories, regret, and shame for my choices? Now you know the truth.

*”pain demands to be felt” is from The Fault in Our Stars, by John Green, 2012; ** “Envy, after all, comes from wanting something that isn’t yours. But grief comes from losing something you’ve already had.” is from Perfect Match, by Jodi Picoult, 2002.

Can We Have a Relationship with Alcohol?

Posted on by Lisa

Relationships are important. So important, in fact, that there’s a fascinating TED talk by Susan Pinker, called “The Secret to Living Longer May be Your Social Life” (2017), explaining just how important relationships are to the longevity of life itself.

Pinker set out to determine the most important factors for living a longer life. Her research took her to an island off the coast of Italy where, compared to the rest of mainland Italy, a larger percentage of its population lives to 100+ years old. Initially, she conjectured that diet, fitness level, and genetype would rank highest in determining why these people lived so much longer. Her conclusions were so surprising, they inspired a TED Talk.

Drum roll, please. . .

Our relationships help determine how long we live.

Pinker found that relationships are the most important determiner for living a long life.   This talk about relationships made me reflect on my own, especially the one I had with alcohol. I had first heard this concept years ago in marriage counseling. The therapist referred to “my relationship with alcohol.”  This was new to me, and I remember being somewhat offended.  

A relationship with alcohol? That was stupid. You couldn’t have a relationship with a substance. I pushed back inside, I don’t know why. It sounded too immature, and intimate, too serious and committed. I wouldn’t even consider it. That would be giving alcohol far more importance than I believed it held for me.

A relationship with alcohol? That’s stupid!

Fast forward to now, and if you’ve read anything of mine, you’ll now know I’ve changed my tune – and how!  I did indeed have a relationship with alcohol. It was long, sordid, and abusive. That relationship was really difficult to end, but it did serve a purpose, and it took a long time for me to see it.

The benefits of some relationships are obvious; some not so much.

So, How do you define relationships?

That’s where I started, and it was more difficult to do than I had anticipated. There are so many more categories of relationships than I realized.

Some relationships we choose – like partners and friends; some we do not – like relatives and employers.

Some we see daily, for hours — like family members, co-workers, and partners; some, only occasionally or much less – like members of teams, friends, or neighbors. See? It gets complicated doesn’t it?   

Relationship defined.

I started by examining some positive relationships I have with people, to narrow down what’s important to me. I came up with things like:

  • Someone I know/am associated with; and/or
  • I spend time with them, and I look forward to being with them; and/or
  • Get something from them or they get something from me

Can you have a relationship with inanimate objects?

Because so many of these begin with “someone” the assumption is that it is a person. But could it be a thing? Hmm… 

I put this to the test with some other inanimate objects most of us probably own. A computer, a vehicle, or a home. They all work for this simple test.

Can I apply the statements above to any of these inanimate objects?

And yes, I can. I recognize my computer, car, or home a part from others like it, so I am familiar with it, in particular. I do spend time on my computer, in/around my car or home as well.

It’s obvious what I get from each, and while it’s not overtly stated, these things do require maintenance from me to keep them working. So, relationship defined.

Having determined that I can, indeed, have a relationship with an inanimate object, such as a substance, now what?

Based on the characteristics of relationships I say I value, where does alcohol stand?

Oh man! this is where the rubber hits the road. I almost didn’t want to do this exercise. I almost already knew.

  • Obviously, I’m familiar with it. I even had my favorite variety or brand.
  • And unfortunately, it’s alarming how much time I gave alcohol. Considering all the time spent, it was like a part-time job:
    • Obsessing about it/looking forward to it/planning getting it
    • Logistics acquiring it
    • Consuming it
    • Hiding/protecting it
    • Actually inebriated — awake and passed out
    • Recovering from it
    • Repairing damage as a result of all of the above
    • Dwelling on what had happened/ruminating/thinking/blaming and hating myself
  • Ahh. . . but this one is the kicker: What did I get from it? That’s the magic question; or should I clarify and say the answer to that is magic!

What do I really get from alcohol?

  • It changed the way I felt and was dependable for that, at first;
  • Booze gave me courage/nerve/confidence;
  • It stopped the voices in my head;
  • However, it also made me feel ashamed and weak;
  • Alcohol made me sick often — physically, emotionally,and mentally.

I looked at this and decided that I needed to get to the bottom of a couple of things. First, there’s a lot in here about the way I feel. Read over them: “Changed the way I felt”; “confidence, brave, ashamed, weak, and sick” – all about feelings. Hmm.

We are actually addicted to the way we feel.

Through my research and over my years of life experiences, I’ve come to realize that we do almost everything for the way it makes us feel. If you remember nothing else from this entire site, the big take-away is: EVERYTHING WE DO IS FOR THE WAY WE FEEL. (For emphasis only.) We are basically addicted to our feelings.

When I was drinking heavily, and everyone knew it, if someone asked me why I drank, I never could articulate or understand why, exactly. But after the acceptable answers like, “It helps me relax”, “takes the edge off”, or “I’m addicted to it”; I often just said with obvious puzzlement, “I don’t know. It just makes me feel better.” And for me, that was probably as close to the truth as I could get at the time.

So, now that I knew the primary reason I drank – to feel better or to change my state of mind – I had to figure out where the negative feelings about myself came from. This was the beginning of understanding and change for me.

Maybe it’s not the alcohol at all. Maybe if I could change the way I felt about myself, I wouldn’t need or want alcohol. I mean, without this feeling/belief of not being good enough or okay as I am (in social situations, in intimate situations, or in comparisons, for example) would I even want alcohol?

If you were incapable of experiencing negative feelings about yourself/your life, would you need alcohol?

Ask yourself that question, seriously. As you sit, right here reading, if you were incapable of experiencing negative beliefs about yourself/your life, would you need alcohol?

For just a few seconds, suspend the barrage of thoughts. You are incapable of feeling them.

Aren’t you okay? Right here right now? Really? You are.

The second thing I noticed about this list is that alcohol sucks as a friend, man! I don’t know if you saw the video, but dude, alcohol does not make you a better dancer!

Alcohol lies. And it eventually takes more than it gives.

Likely, it doesn’t make you appear smarter or funnier either. When’s the last time you were impressed or entertained by an obnoxious rambling drunk?

And that boost of confidence? Quickly turned into some seriously poor decision-making for me — recklessness, embarrassment, “drunk mouth”, two DUI’s, a lot of money/time lost, and a world of shame, grief, and regret.

Dependable becomes dependent; and that would be me on it.

And toward the end, alcohol wasn’t very dependable. I required more and more to get even marginal effect. Before I knew it, I was hooked in a terrible drinking cycle that spun out of control for years.

Quitting drinking didn’t mean quitting wanting or needing it.

Aha! And there it is. There is the true problem. Because even after I had quit drinking for an entire year, I realized the need was still there, deep down, and I was afraid it could bite me at any time.

Relapse city for me, until I figured this part out as well. And this is where you’ve found me and this website: smack dab in the middle of the purpose alcohol served in my life. It made me feel better about myself. It changed my state of mind like nothing ever had before, and that’s why giving it up is so hard to do.

But not impossible. It is possible to change this, and I did fairly quickly too. That’s a whole other article though, so keep reading, and I’ll keep explaining.

To wrap this up, Susan Pinker’s research did show that alcohol consumption does effect your life expectancy, for what that’s worth. But it was only the fourth most important factor out of 10, with number 10 — (social engagement) being the most important. Interesting.

Trying to Quit Drinking? Giving Yourself Permission May Help

Posted on by Lisa

Giving yourself permission to drink could be the beginning of understanding why you drink, and how you might go about better controlling your consumption. Let me explain.

Several years ago, when I was drinking regularly, there is one particular memory which I’ve drawn on for understanding in sobriety. I was about to go out of town, so I had a lot of work to do, but I was also very stressed and wanted to drink.  I just couldn’t do it right then though; I had too much to do, so I had to put it off. What I did next, is very important.

I went to the liquor store anyway, right then, even though I knew I wouldn’t drink my purchase until much later. I did that because I knew that if I secured alcohol now, and gave myself permission to use it later, I would get some relief from the obsessive thoughts and restlessness, which were driving me crazy now.

Planning my drinking was like a sigh of relief, and here’s why.

When you make the decision to drink — even if it’s not going to be until later — you get a reprieve from craving. Obsessive thoughts, restlessness, and discontent are all symptoms of craving. And craving is caused by dopamine.

Dopamine comes from the part of the brain that has latched onto alcohol. This part of the brain is interested in maintaining habit formation, and it’s very powerful.

Dopamine has a really strong motivational aspect as well. In fact, dopamine is as much about getting alcohol, as it is about drinking it. I explain this a little more in detail in another post, and you can read it here. And that’s why we feel a little hint of relief when we mentally allow ourselves to do it, even if we’re not going to indulge until later.

I call this putting off “intentional procrastination”, and it’s an enlightening experience for sobriety, when you can become aware of it. Here’s what’s going on when we feel this.

“Intentional Procrastination” appeases both parts of the brain.

When we put off drinking, we’re appeasing that part of our brain/selves that wants to drink now, which is triggering the craving. We’re basically saying, “you’re gonna get it, just not right now, but later, so relax.” And it does relax. It stops dopamine, for the moment. (The key is, of course, to stop it for good.)

As I’ve discussed in other articles (The Two Wolves Within, July 12, 2019), we have two parts to our brains regarding drinking. One part of us wants – needs – to drink. This is the part of the brain that triggers craving chemicals, dopamine most notably, making us obsess about alcohol and feeling restless until we get it. This part of the brain has no concept of future or past. It is only present moment awareness. And while it urges us to drink now, making the decision to do it later appeases it temporarily.

The other part of the brain/selves is our logical side that doesn’t want to drink. This is the part of us that “knows better”. This part of us knows drinking isn’t a good idea, it’s a temporary fix, it’s a problem, and we need to stop. This is the part of the brain that does have a concept of future consequences and past negative memories. And because it knows drinking isn’t the best plan, it’s all about putting it off. Voila, you’ve satisfied both; for now.

And this is the part of ourselves we want to cultivate and tap into more often, right? It’s the struggle between these two very different parts of us that we find ourselves in every day. And which one speaks the loudest is the one who wins. I addressed this at length in this article.

Try it for yourself — procrastination you can feel good about!

I know I’m not unique and many drinkers have experienced the urge to drink when they can’t. We want to drink, we need to drink, but we can’t right at the moment the urge hits us. Maybe we’re at work, or we have an important meeting, a court appearance, or we’re driving; it’s just not possible right away, so we’ve all put it off in situations like this.

The problem is that maybe you’ve never done it  intentionally just to see how it feels. Have you ever really realized how you feel the minute you decide to put it off, and/or have secured the alcohol for later?

You get a reprieve, and this is something to become aware of . . . and use to your benefit.

Take my “Intentional Procrastination Challenge”  

Notice, I’m not telling you to quit drinking. I’m not even suggesting you don’t drink today, but if you haven’t already started drinking (if you have, you’ll have to wait until tomorrow or when you sober up), just try it.

Intentionally procrastinate drinking today, and see how it feels. Secure the drink, if you need to, and give yourself a time in the future when you’ll drink it. Giving yourself permission to drink is, in itself, a refreshing change — not trying to white knuckle it until you simply cave in.

Tell yourself, “you’re gonna get it, just not right now, but later, so relax.” And see how that feels. Just play around with it, what do ya have to lose?

See if you can feel the internal sigh of relief, a slight sense of security.

When we get both of these parts of our brains on the same page, this not-drinking gig gets much easier, but until then, it can be quite problematic. In fact, that is the immediate problem with relapse or with drinking every day, right? If we could just do what that one part of us who “knows better” wants, we’d be okay, right?

It is possible to get both sides of your brain on the same page for good, and when you do, not drinking no longer feels like non-stop resistance. And this relief issue, after making the decision to put it off, is an important key for understanding.

When we intentionally procrastinate drinking, when we give ourselves permission to do it later, we free something up inside, but we have to try to become aware of that freedom to work with it. Knowing what it is, and where it’s coming from, can help us learn to use it to our benefit.

I can help you with that too, but first things first. Take my challenge!

When Do You First Feel Alcohol?

Posted on by Lisa

This sounds like a dumb question, but when do you first feel alcohol? When do you feel what  you’re drinking? Back when I was drinking, I’m sure I would have answered this question with: “When I drink, of course.” But is that really when you start to feel a little better?

For me, I often started feeling a little better even before I took the first drink. But how could that be? Isn’t it the alcohol that gives us the good feeling we’re looking for? Maybe. Or maybe not.

In last week’s post, I talked about how putting off drinking used to give me a little bit of a reprieve from the obsession. You can read it here. I also challenged you to “Intentionally Procrastinate” drinking to see if you feel a little relief too.

Procrastination you can be proud of – Procrastinators rejoice!

To recap the story from last week, I described an incident from my past when I put off drinking. I did “secure” the goods, however. That means I decided I was going to drink later, and I even went to the liquor store right away to make sure I had it when I needed it. This week, I’d like to take it a step further.

What I didn’t describe in last week’s post, is how I felt on the way to the liquor store to get my “stash”. And I’m gonna be honest, I feel a little weird about writing this, because it feels so extreme and embarrassing.

Maybe I was simply a really desperate “addict”, but I remember how excited I would often get on the way to the liquor store. How pathetic is that?! I have a hard time admitting this, but I really did. Sometimes, I even felt . . .  giddy. I had a little spring in my step, my thoughts seemed already lighter, and I felt more at ease just knowing I was going to get that magic elixir. I was going to feel better soon.

How do you feel when you know you’re going to drink?

Have you ever felt that way?  I used to think to myself, Man, how pathetic am I that just going to the liquor store would make me happier? (Ya gotta know I wasn’t thinking then about writing articles and posting them for all to see. No sir, I was keeping that desperation undercover.)

But now I’m thinking that maybe we need to explore it a little, and maybe it’s something we can work with in sobriety.

So back to my original question: when do you feel the alcohol you drink? Maybe you aren’t even aware that your mood is changing before you even start drinking. It’s worth looking into, don’t you think? Especially if drinking is a problem for you like it was for me.

My take, from a physiological standpoint:

Dopamine is one of the brain chemicals responsible for craving alcohol. It causes obsessive thoughts and uncomfortable restlessness, among other symptoms, until – and this is very important – you secure the alcohol. 

Obsessive thoughts and restlessness are so hard to ignore, because dopamine has a really strong motivation component, which urges us to take physical action or movement. In fact, dopamine imbalances cause the physical tremors and/or uncontrollable movement in patients with Parkinson’s Disease and Tourette’s syndrome. (“What Is Dopamine And How Does It Affect The Brain And The Body?” written by Sarah Fader, May 2019, BetterHelp.com)

What does this have to do with alcoholism? you may be wondering. A lot. Dopamine is behind the obsessive drive to get alcohol, so the acquisition of it actually relieves your symptoms. Dopamine is your brain’s way of urging you to physically go get booze. It’s behind the fidgeting and ill-at-ease feelings we have when we want to drink. Therefore, those symptoms are somewhat alleviated by “securing” our beverage of choice.

In fact, we now know that dopamine is as much about the motivation — the getting of alcohol — as it is about the pleasure of drinking it. Surprising as it may sound, dopamine is motivating you to go get alcohol possibly more than it is urging you to drink it.

And you can learn this by paying really close attention and comparing how you feel before and after you “secure” your liquor.

I started feeling better even before I start drinking, so it’s not only the alcohol that makes us feel better.

Dopamine is the reason for the giddiness, excitement, dare I even say euphoria (?), on the way to the liquor store (or on the way to the refrigerator, or on the way home where you plan to be drinking, or while the bartender is making your drink, etc.)

Think about it. If you’re like me, and you start feeling significantly better while “securing” alcohol, that feeling isn’t coming from the alcohol because you haven’t even started drinking it yet! It’s coming from your brain; it’s coming from you. And that’s the big take away of this article.

Try this simple experiment.

Okay, so this realization may not stop you dead in your tracks and make you never want to pick up another drink, but it is worth considering. If you can become more aware of when you start to actually feel the effects of drinking, and if you’re findings are the same as mine, as you realize the relief is coming from within you, maybe you can take more control of your drinking. It’s worth a try, right?

What to do to become more aware:

As you’re feeling the urge to drink or planning your next drinking episode, rate the desire on a scale of 1 to 10. Then secure your drink of choice, and rate the desire again, before you pop the cork. Is it lower, higher, or the same? Did simply securing your alcohol, make you feel a tad bit better? Now go to my Facebook Page and share your results. And keep reading my blogs, because I’m going to continue to explain what’s going on with you, physiologically.

In Every ‘Addict’* there is a Super Hero

Posted on by Lisa

We all know how our culture views ‘addicts’. Just watch television or movies — diseased, weak, immoral, impoverished, struggling, pathetic.

Well, I see us differently, especially those of us who keep trying to find the solution. To me, we are super heroes, and by the end of this article, see if you don’t agree.

I’m pretty smart, I think; not overly, but just enough. Yet, when I was actively drinking, I could do some pretty illogical (okay, stupid) things.

For example, I used to listen to my drinking buddies who’d jokingly say, “Never mess up a good buzz with a meal”. Ever hear that? Ever follow that advice? Not smart.

Yet, I did it often. In fact, I’m embarrassed to write this, but during the time when I was actively drinking, I regularly chose alcohol over food.

I drank instead of eating. Yet, I love food. I love cooking, eating, recipes, food presentation – all of it. Yes, I’m a foodie.  Food is a joy of mine.

Nourishment is a basic survival need, right? So, how could I have given up my love, and overridden a survival instinct, for alcohol? That doesn’t sound normal or logical.

There was a time when alcohol was more important to me than eating food. This is not normal! Or is it?

As crazy and unhealthy as it sounds, I used to go for days eating very little, but drinking alcohol because alcohol had become more important to me than food.  I remember when feeling hunger pangs, and a part of me knew I needed to eat, yet another part of me said, “You need a drink.” And as if on cue, I drank.

By the time I entered the last rehab, I was a good twenty pounds underweight, and I am not a big person to begin with. I wasn’t only unhealthily thin, but I seemed to be starving myself. Why? How did that happen? I’m a fairly smart person, remember?

Starving myself seems contrary to how we’re wired as a surviving species, doesn’t it?

I’ve always thought that certain survival instincts were hard-wired and dominant. The need for nourishment is an instinct, among others, which we couldn’t override. And thankfully so, otherwise, we would not survive. Yet there I was, consciously doing something I could potentially die from. What is that all about?

In a nutshell, what I’ve learned is how addiction effects brain chemistry, and subsequent behavior – especially when that behavior seems illogical and counterproductive to life itself. And while it doesn’t make sense at first glance, once you learn a little about how our brains work, it actually does make a lot of sense.

Note: For a more detailed account, view the documentary by Dr. Kevin McCauley called “Pleasure Unwoven” ( 2012).

Alcohol triggers the release of many brain chemicals. The important one for this discussion is dopamine – the chemical of pleasure and motivation. Dopamine comes from the same part of the brain where our instincts live – the older mid-brain, sometimes called the “first brain”.

The part of the brain impacted by alcohol is the “first brain” and where our instincts live.

Because this part of the brain is ancient, it operates more like an unconscious instinct. It assigns value to experiences, in a split second, based on a simple criterion: Does this feel good or bad? For this part of the brain, good equals survival; and bad means the opposite.

Consider this example: Neanderthal runs across a tasty new food source, dense in calories, hence valuable for survival, and the brain codes it as good. With subsequent encounters, the brain remembers it and reminds Neanderthal with dopamine, which says, “Go get that.” The first brain rewards her with pleasure each time, which solidifies the association, and the experience is reinforced time and time again. This is a simplified example, but it pretty much works the same way with alcohol.

Because alcohol causes so much dopamine to be released, the brain says “WOW! This must be very important to survival”, and assigns it a high value rating, based on the feeling.

In my brain, after doing that time and time again, alcohol climbed the hierarchy of human survival needs, and moved into a position higher than food. Again, unconsciously, of course.

Alcohol sometimes felt like survival to me – like an instinct. It’s almost like I had to have it!

Remember, this is the best thing we’ve ever felt, right? It’s a “high” like we’ve never known before. It makes us say, “Where have you been all my life?!” (It’s no coincidence that these are exactly the words many alcoholics use to describe their first encounter with alcohol.  I’ve heard some alcoholics say it was like a spiritual experience.)

Excessive dopamine “tricks” your brain.

So, this flood of feel-good chemicals sort of “tricks” the older brain into moving this experience above others. It eventually moves alcohol ahead of food, sex, and personal safety, among other survival instincts.

And that’s why, in advanced stages of continued use, many of us forego eating, intimacy, and physical protection (we don’t take proper safety precautions, or we recklessly put ourselves in danger) for alcohol.

Now, on the outside, and from a modern perspective, this doesn’t make logical sense, does it? I know. I used to say to myself, “Lisa, alcohol cannot be more important than eating.” Yet, it did feel that way. I just didn’t understand why. Now, I do.

From a physiological standpoint, this is perfectly normal and how your brain is supposed to work.

There it is! There’s nothing wrong with us, even though and even when we’ve made seemingly illogical and disastrous decisions, even in the face of potentially very negative consequences.

Congratulations, ‘addict’*, you’re normal.

This is the mid-brain doing its thing. Does this make more sense to you now? I’m not saying it’s easy or even okay, I’m just saying, it’s the way we’re wired and now it’s understandable.

This information also explains why it’s so hard to quit this substance. We must overcome millions of years of evolution. A biological imperative built into our ancient brains must be interrupted and changed. Wow!

Enter: Our super hero.

To understand enough about what’s happening in the brain, and to be able to interrupt an ancient pattern, designed to keep an entire species on the course of survival, sounds super daunting, doesn’t it? (It’s actually easier than you think, but that’s another article.)

We are actually the ‘Super Humans’ among us, because we overcome ancient patterns of survival. Who knew?

I can guide you to Super Human Hero status.

So, in my book, those of us who do it are super humans! And that feels a lot better than being labeled “addicts”, defective, diseased, immoral, and weak-willed. See it now?

We are actually the strongest, most aware, most resilient, and resourceful among us! And all of that can be learned and cultivated.

It’s time for a new empowering view of yourself.

And this feeling, my Friend, is the very opposite of embarrassment, shame, frustration, and helplessness you feel when at the mercy of alcohol. Believe me, I know.

And here’s the real good news: because our brains are changing all the time, it’s possible to refocus that older part of the brain from alcohol to sobriety, when you know how. Stick with me, I’ll be your guide.

* I’m not a fan of the term ‘addict’, as I feel it is stigmatized in our modern society. I do use it here (taken out of cultural context with single apostrophes) for impact.