25: Walls

i can feel the seatbelt on my lap now. i didn't realize i hadn't felt it in a long time, until i felt it  yesterday, on top of my legs instead of on top of my belly.

i remember a moment, rolling over in bed and realizing my shape was changing, shrinking. i felt a moment of fear, of feeling exposed. had i really been growing this wall around my body to protect it from something?

i know there are hours of therapy in my future. i'm breaking down the wall around me, to find me.

that sounds cheesy and misses the point.

25 pounds down. so many more to go. how did i get here? it took years. 

i mean. i've lost 25 pounds! that's ... i mean!!  someone's goal weight is to lose 25 pounds! no one has mentioned that i look different. i haven't seen many people (thanks, covid!), i wear baggy clothes anyway. sometimes i wonder if my scale is completely off and lying to me. but i can feel it in my arms and legs, the way i walk now, the way i'm not out of breath, the way i can crawl around on the floor to pin a quilt, and that wonderful seatbelt on my lap.

i used to joke (to myself) that my backfat had fat.

backfat doesn't lie, and it's gone now. button down shirts also don't lie, and they fit now.

phantom limb

i have all of these words and feelings about you, around you, toward you. without you.

you are torture. toxic. angry. bitter.

in pain.

i wouldn't say you were a limb cut off of me. it was more a slow wrenching of a limb. constantly painful. 

painful still.

you're out there. in the world. still full of anger and spreading your toxicity.

victim.

it hurts me. i think back to the times i miss you, and it is eons. lifetimes ago.  when i was small and we fell asleep holding hands. when we swam in your pool and had sleepovers at your house.

losing you is more than losing my sister, my oldest sister, my big sister. it is also losing the history you hold. 

oh, now i think of that small girl in her big sister's bed and my eyes sting with tears. my heart hurts. you were there. you knew.

it's not a losing of pain, cutting you out of my life, because i still feel it every day. it's a dark and thick pain; an undercurrent. while i might not think of you every day, i still feel the current connecting us.

which makes sense, because we are sisters.

does it ever go away?

i think sometimes it might, and that hurts even more. knowing you're out there, wondering just wondering always wondering.

i should have slapped you that day. that day in the sun next to your car, i should have slapped you. but at the last second i adjusted and shoved your shoulder instead.

"why don't you go cry over your dead dad's grave."

i should have slapped you.

our relationship (if you can call it that) should have ended years ago. it shouldn't have lasted as long as it did. but the boys. we kept you in our lives because of the boys. we wanted to be in their lives.

i still feel rage. and now immediate sadness. my eyes burn with unshed tears. they pool as i try to blink them away.

where did that big sister go? the one i held hands with as i fell asleep?

so much complicated grief. 

141

four months!  well. a little while ago was four months. i don't even check it every day. i was checking off the days today to see how many days it's been. and i got kind of meh about it.  what's the next big number?  180 i guess? six months? but there's also 150, which is a nice round number, five months.

i'm much more selective with who i hang out with. i'm afraid i'm isolating myself and losing friends. but that could just be me being dumb and not reaching out. i know they're there.

i don't like obnoxious people.  drinking used to make them "tolerable" or i didn't care as much when i was drinking.

i am currently grumpy pants.

117 days - super bowl

i didn't think it would be a big deal, but i'm glad i had options for the big game.  i could have stayed home, but i needed the fresh air and the company.

i'm not a fan of the super bowl.  i don't follow it at all, don't care who wins (but really, anyone but the pats). despite that, i had a few invitations to choose from, which really means a lot to me.  all of them knew i didn't drink, and they still invited me.

i was worried the invites would stop, or slow down because i made people uncomfortable by not drinking. i declined a lot of invites, and i still do.  depending on my day, stress level, mood, i might not want to put myself in those situations. not because i'll drink (but there's always that possibility), but because all i sometimes want to do in those situations is drink.  because everyone else is and what the hell i could probably just have one, right?

i told my sister i'd stop by her house and say hi to people, eat a bit, and head to a friend's house. my sister's house would be full of people and loud, my friend's house would be just us, quilting software, a puzzle, food, and conversation.  oh, and the game on in the background.

at my sister's house, she was drinking prosecco out of a wine glass, which looked exactly like chardonnay, which was (is?) my drink of choice.  someone else showed up with a nice bottle of red and her own bottle of vodka.  others brought beer and the whiskey was poured.

i felt dumb and lame with my sprite.  a wine glass was passed in front of me for someone else to taste.

"busy season" is coming up at work and i miss turning my brain off. i miss that feeling of floating, of not caring, that easy way of falling asleep.

but i know it's not real sleep.  it's not restful sleep. and i know the sugars in the booze will wreak havoc on my body, mind, mood the next day, and the cycle will continue. (maybe i need that on a bracelet - body, mind, mood.)

it was awkward when i left. i kind of just announced it. it didn't seem like a jovial light-hearted place to be and i can't put my finger on why.  was it me? were people more serious because i was there? did a couple have a fight before getting there? was it always this awkward and serious and i just didn't notice it?  were they awkward because they knew i wasn't drinking?

i went to my friend's house and it was just what we wanted. the tv was on, i read about the new software, we talked about quilting, about friends, events coming up. we snacked, worked on the puzzle a bit, watched commercials.  and a football game was on in the background.

oh, and we didn't drink. i didn't even think about drinking.

tea

i don't remember when i stopped making tea in the evenings.  i needed it in those "early" days. i put "early" in "" because i don't want to get cocky. it's currently 108 days and while it seems like a lot right now, i know it's a drop in a bucket.  in those early "holding on by my fingernails" days, 100 days seemed huge! like once i got there, i'd be okay.  i am okay, i am "better", whatever that means.

i stopped making tea. i used to make it every night...to convince myself that i was preparing for sleep, that i was winding down instead of a bottle of wine, it was a mug of tea.  oh, the tea.  so much tea!  a shelf full of teas.

sleepy time tea, night time tea, chamomile, vanilla, lavender.  instead of a mug of wine, it was a mug of tea.  i preferred a mug or tumbler of wine because it was more steady than a wine glass.  how many times did i spill wine on my couch?  when did i stop using a wine glass and switch to a mug?  it had been years.

where am i going with this?  oh. tea. winding down. i'm reaching for books and sashiko in the evenings while catching up on DVRd shows.

108 days.

90 and 98 days

people are cool about it. it's less of a big deal as it first was. i do miss drinking occasionally.  one friday was rough and i was seriously considering hitting the store for wine on the way home.  i acknowledged that i hadn't slept enough the night before and i was probably dehydrated.

but still.

so i called a friend.  well.  texted a friend. i messaged and texted other friends.  thought about going to my sister's house, usually a haven for me, but i knew booze was even more accessible there.

so i went home and met my friend and hung out. i felt silly asking, or, accepting help. it wasn't as big of a deal once he was there. but i don't know how it would have gone if he wasn't there.

i passed 90 days!  it was a sunday, i think. i meant to take a picture of my bracelet that has been there through all of this...but i haven't been wearing the bracelet. what was once a talisman, a reminder, a mantra "you do not need it", a thread i clung to...is something that i think is in my purse. or on my dresser.

today is 98 days.

63 ish days

i'm losing count of the days! which is nice. i mean, i know the general number. oh. yesterday was 63 days. today will be 64.

ANYWAY. i've been having really annoying and stressful dreams lately. it isn't because of the lack of booze, though.  i've had crazy weird dreams forever.

i'm planning a holiday party at work, and people are showing up late and sitting at the wrong tables. they're bringing more people than they said they would and it's a mess.

there are less than 10 people at our actual holiday party, which basically just required me to make reservations at a restaurant and enter our names into an online gift exchange generator. so i don't know where this is coming from.  work stress in general? maybe.

i keep getting flashbacks of this dream during the day at work and it's really annoying.  i think it was actually the office christmas tree decorations this year. every year it's a whole thing. the tree is lame, the lights aren't enough, the ornaments are terrible. i have NEVER decorated a tree and said "that is an ugly tree, the lights are wrong, the ornaments aren't right." in my opinion, the messier the better.

ALSO WHERE ARE ALL THE COLORED LIGHTS THEY NEED TO BE ON THE TREE, DAMMIT.

well. i think we found the origin of my stress.  thank you.

xo
yo