Greater than Myself

Married and Divorced by 25 // College grad with useless degree // Living beyond my means // 10 years of hard drinking later // My name is Erin, and I am an Alcoholic

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Soooo

Should I do an AMA?

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Songs to study to

Not much going on today. Plan on putting on some tunes and reading a book. 

Hope y’all are having a chill Tuesday

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Why Not Drinking is Hard

Being carded when the person you're with buys alcohol.

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Take a rest.

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Important

Oh my goodness where do I start. 

I am so, so sorry. 

I had NO intention of being away from this blog for so long. 

But I ended up back in the hospital, in the psychiatric unit, again. For the third time in as many years. Due to bipolar psychosis. 

I started hearing voices. Voices that told me I was useless, unlovable, worthless. They told me to kill myself, over and over and over. And I finally snapped. 

I knew that I was drinking as much as I was because there was something inside me that needed it. Needed the depressant properties to quiet the racing thoughts in my head, the feeling of anxiety, the constant pull towards an abyss that I was both afraid of and intrigued by. Now I realize that the alcohol was trying to treat my bipolar disorder when I felt like no one else would help me. 

I’m seeing a new therapist, my old one closed her practice, and am on new medication. I am hopeful, for the first time in months, that maybe this is the right path. As such, I am going to be more active with this blog. 

I promise to post at least once a day. I promise to respond to any messages I receive. I promise to keep fighting. Because if my story helps ONE person, just ONE, then maybe my life isn’t such a waste after all.

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I'm curious

Y'all still reading this thing?

I'm trying to journal more. But work is just so exhausting, and I don't have that sweet sweet ad money to keep me afloat.

I've had my meds changed around conpletely at least twice since i last updated this blog. So that's been a thing. I am teying to be medically conplaint, but its hard to keep track of all this. Ive got a mood journal for day to day stuff, but it's not reflective enough for me.

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That vacation

Was awesome. I learned that I am a pisspoor gambler. But it was fun to be there.

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Vacation soooon

My boyfriend and I are taking a long weekend at the casino because of Memorial Day on Monday,and I am very, very jazzed about it. Not so much for the gambling part, more for the adventure part. There's a lot of Maine I haven't seen yet, so I'm excited.

It makes me think about how grateful I am for what I have. Even with all this mental illness and addiction business, life isn't so bad. I'm still living it, right?

I don't know if this new attitude is because of the new meds I'm on, or if this is just me leveling out somewhat. I like it. It's nice for not everything to be an absolute crisis.

Take a minute and just enjoy the small things. Just one small thing. A sip of good coffee; the sun on the top of your head; laughing at a stupid joke.

Be kind, yall.

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I didn't forget this blog

I swear. I just.

Ran out of things to say.

That aren't like,

Super depressing.

I started this blog to document my struggles with sobriety, and now it's morphed into a study in several break downs. And I haven't been working the steps, as my tumblr handle would imply.

I'm not drinking any more, but I can't tell if my sobriety is progressing, it doesn't feel that way. I know I should be going to meetings and stuff. I am just so incredibly uncomfortable when I go to AA meetings.

There, I said it.

I feel super uncomfortablr, shy and painfully small in AA meetings, and I don't know why. I consider myself fairly out going as a person, and I realize there isn't any shame in going. For some reason, I just keep thinking about what my parents would say when faced with some kind of family illness or trouble; "keep it in the house".

Anyone else have this kind of struggle going on?

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Why Not Drinking is Hard

When you smell alcohol after a hard day...

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"I like it when you smile. It's my favorite part of you"

Well, shit kid.

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Happy 28th to my favorite neurosis-riddled mess. Me.

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Follow my Instagram! It's full of selfies, food, and pictures of my cat. Mostly pictures of my cat.

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Ok, a real update before my birthday

Since getting out of the hospital on Friday, I haven't had much energy to give a serious update, to the five or so followers who actually read these. I spent the last two days high off my face, for selfsoothing reasons I could guess. Honestly, there's no excuse for my pot usage, other than I replaced one addiction with another.

Like we do.

My boyfriend (who's tshirt left behind inspired that hair-on-point selfie some time ago) has his kids today, doing the Easter thing down in Portland. I've been home, sick to my stomach for the last few hours. I ate so little in the hospital, I left famished. And promptly ate a bunch of unhealthy food. We're going out to get Chinese when he gets back. My stomach isn't thrilled.

If I'm supposed to be honest here, and my therapist is all about honestly on this public forum, I'm not sure how I'm doing. I don't feel horribly depressed, nor do I feel manic (I guess the new meds are working after all). I feel tired, I guess. Empty, maybe a bit hollow. Deric is trying so hard to make me feel better, and I don't really know how to tell him what I need. Mental illness is it's own language, and it's hard to translate.

Through it all, I've stayed sober. Somehow, no alcohol. I'm proud of that. But now staying dry seems like just a tiny drop in the bucket compared to all the other issues I've been dealing with. I'm going to be 28 on April 25th. Almost 30. What have I done with my life at this point? What do I have to show for all this strugging?

Is it weird that I don't think I'm meant to know?

Ah, enough of that bullshit.

Eat lots of chocolate eggs, or Jesus won't come back from the dead to defeat the evil Peeps monster.

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One week later

I was discharged from the psychiatric unit of my local hospital this morning at 9:15. My boyfriend Deric picked me up.

I don't really know how to feel exactly at this moment. I went home and got UNBELIEVABLY stoned, which really helped defuse the lingering jitters I had, so that was nice.

My medications have been completely changed, from trazidone to depacote and zyprexa (sorry, I'm aware my spelling is attroche, but I am trying). I did manage to work with my assigned case worker to set up an appointment with a psychiatrist that's fairly local to me, which is great.

Now that I finally had to face the negative side of my mania (auditory hallucinations, irritability, dangerously grandiose thinking etc.), I feel better prepared for this new part of my treatment. Like, yeah mania is the BEST feeling in the whole world, and I wish everyone could at least feel the self-loving super hero feeling it brings, but there are negative things too. I think I just didn't want to admit I had no control over it. And I hate that. This latest hospitalization really needed to happen.

I was also pleasantly surprised that Deric was so supportive about the whole "I-hear-voices-that-aren't-there-sometimes-thing".

I'll give a more detailed update later.

Sleep well babes

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Hospital bound

My medication isn't do it again.

I have to go back to the hospital.

This is the pits.

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Thissssss