Adventures of ToxicGirl

It Might be a Magical Pill, but You'v Got to Believe.

2011-12-21T14:46:00.006-05:00

It's been a year since my last post which might be some kind of internet record for time-in-between posts, but I hardly visit blogs, so I could be wildly mistaken. In my mind, I had abandoned my blog for various reasons never to return—mainly because I felt that I had said all that I could say on the subject of TSM and my experiences with it. But after another year's adventure, I felt the need to write a wee bit more....

Last December's "cured" state was short lived. As the months rolled on, my drinking sadly and predictably slowly increased. I was back to drinking every single night and the only consolation was the fact that I wasn't polishing off a whole bottle of wine like I did in the old days...TSM progress? I continued this pattern with little fanfare, dutifully popping my naltrexone, waiting an hour (many times only 30 minutes), and then drinking. This continued until July 2011 when once again, a serious physical issue forced me to take a closer look at what alcohol was doing to my body. I had a choice, continue to drink for that short-lived buzz, quickly followed by overeating, fatigue, and depression OR stop drinking and heal my body and avoid surgery. I chose the latter or rather it chose me because I did not want surgery.

Once again, like my last self-imposed abstinence, I felt myself crippled with fear with the thought of not having a wine glass welded to my hand by 6pm every night. And just like last time, this fear was hugely inaccurate. I simply started, 6pm rolled around, I stared into the abyss, and then made myself a cup of green tea and never looked back. It's now been about 5 months without any alcohol.

I have to admit that I was pretty down on TSM this past year. I felt abandoned, betrayed, duped, and angry. And just when I was finally ready to throw in the towel and declare TSM a load of hooey....it starts to work! Lo' and behold through the months of TSM twists and turns, mini miracles, confusion, rage, and setbacks...all along I guess that pink little pill was tinkering in my brain and doing its job. I say this with 90% confidence because who know where I will be in another year? All I know is the "right now", and right now not drinking is effortless—I could take it or leave it—as all fellow alcoholics know, THIS IS HUGE.

The biggest reason I believe TSM is working for me is simply because stopping drinking was so effortless and not drinking is also effortless. I've also been through many triggers, from stress to funerals to close proximity to hotel mini bars and these too have been easy to breeze through. I could not say this pre-TSM whenever I abstained. Abstaining before "enrolling" in TSM was coupled with extreme WANT. I'd sit and watch others drink with such longing in my heart and eyes (think Puss with the big eyes in the Shrek movie series) and I thought, "how am I going to get through a lifetime of mini torture sessions? I'm bound to blow torch someone very soon."

So there you go, for now I'm 5 months sober, my health has greatly improved, and I don't miss alcohol. I repeat, I don't miss alcohol which is absolutely freakin' awesome! As I type, I have 4 bottles of wine sitting on my coffee table (a gift from in-laws) which would normally be a temptation too hard to resist, but they sit there like a neglected senior citizen in a home. I don't want anything to do with them....for now.

To all my dear fellow alcoholically challenged friends out there in this mysterious, frustrating universe—don't give up, don't ever give up. Happy 2012! I'll keep you posted!

Eeeeee, Gads!

2010-12-01T16:38:00.005-05:00

Time flies! It has already been almost 2 weeks since my last post (OK, I wrote that sentence 3 weeks ago and then stopped). So NOW it has been 5 weeks since my last mini-post from my Blackberry.

Words are a horribly inferior tool when trying to communicate the most important things in life, so that is probably part of the reason I've been avoiding committing words to my blog these days. I think Albert Einstein had a pretty good grasp of this frustrating predicament when he proclaimed, "Imagination is more important than knowledge. Knowledge is limited. Imagination encircles the world." Good ol' Albert.

I think one must apply a lot of imagination and throw logic and practical knowledge out the window when gallivanting around in this crazy world of TSM.

Anyone who has read even just a handful of my posts can tell that my TSM journey has been a rocky one. And this moment in time isn't any different, other than the jubilant fact that I'm dwelling in the "cured" zone....for now.

Let me back up for a moment. A month ago I scheduled minor surgery and because of this I needed naltrexone out of my system. For those of you who don't know naltrexone is classified as a pure opiate antagonist. This means that it blocks and reverses the physical effects of drugs such as morphine, codeine, and other drugs classified as narcotics. So if I were to go skipping into the hospital on naltrexone, the lovely opiate elixir slipping into my arm via IV would be rendered useless.

I read what seemed to be legitimate knowledge from a physician that one needs to stop taking naltrexone 72 hours prior to surgery. I'm a bit cautious, so I decided to give it 10 days just in case I happened to be a freak of nature. This also meant cutting out the booze unless I dare go down the insane road of drinking again without naltrexone. "No way" said one of the more saner little voices in my head. This is what happened....

....I welled up with fear and I was very scared—scared like a child in the dark with a monster lurking under the bed. S-C-A-R-E-D!!! But BIG quickly evaporated into SMALL when I found that I not only could easily forgo alcohol, but I had absolutely no desire to drink any. There wasn't even one tiny molecule in my body desiring a drink. I found this delightful, but equally bizarre, as well.

After surgery the hospital sent me home with some happy pills, so I was left with the decision--do I take the painkillers and assuage my pain or do I put up with the pain, take my naltrexone and settle into the couch with a nice glass or two or three or four of wine? I chose the pain pills—partly because of the pain and partly because I also enjoy painkillers (sad, but true).

Cut to the present—surgery was 2 weeks ago, my pain is gone and so is my Percocet, sooooo I can start drinking again, but here's the funny thing, I simply don't want to! I'm now left with a bagful of neurotic questions: when will I drink? when will I want to drink? When I finally do drink, will I jump back into it on a daily basis again? I have no answers to these questions, but I think I am starting to understand what's happening....

....A cured TSMer said something to me a little while ago that has stuck on me like glue. He said, "TSM isn't the panacea that we all hope it to be". I've also heard more than one TSM expert say that individuals that make it to a cured state are "highly motivated". I think I realized this on my own awhile ago, but largely chose to ignore it because who wants to do any real work? Besides, Eskapa's book says right on the cover, "Drink Your Way Sober Without Willpower, Abstinence or Discomfort". I truly wanted to believe this, but it simply is rubbish (at least for me)—I DID and DO need willpower! He is right about the "without discomfort" because more accurately it is more like torment and hellish agony.

I've been doing TSM since January 2010 and I thought I was highly motivated, but more truthfully, I was highly excited about this little magic pill doing all the magic. But deep down I knew I needed to do more if this process was going to work, even Eskapa encourages positive activities as part of the TSM protocol. I made token efforts, but nothing substantial.

I finally stepped out of my comfort zone, tired of the merry-go-round and added "eye movement desensitization and reprocessing (EMDR for short) which is a complex psychological methodology which accelerates the treatment of a wide range of pathologies and self-esteem issues related to upsetting past events etc. (whew, that's a mouthful!). I found a few studies that said it helps people with addictions and that was enough to convince me to try it.

I think taking this step and making my first EMDR appointment was very symbolic for me; it made me realize that I really do care about myself and taking this step was a big missing ingredient in my TSM journey—it was like I was trying to make an apple pie without the apples. Addictions are like a huge snarly, tangled, twisted, perplexing, complex hairball that not only require, but demand in a shrieking voice that we do more than just take a pill to get rid of them. Just think, it only took me 10 long and often painful months to figure this out!

Of course, I know only time will tell, but right now I'm feeling pretty cured. Since November 5th up until last night I was abstinent. Last night I had (literally) 4 ounces of red wine after dinner. I didn't even really want it, but I've just been so curious how I would react once I had that jewel colored liquid on my lips. Would I desire the entire bottle? It was enjoyable, but not earth shattering and after it was gone I was off to something else. Edgar Cayce said "healing rests upon having an ideal and purpose for wanting to get well" and I think he's 100% right.

Posting on an iPhone...

2010-10-27T19:02:00.001-04:00

...crazy! Typing on this thing is as frustrating as one of those dreams where you are trying to scream and nothing comes out. But when the mood strikes, it is time to share even if it means typing with one pinky.

For sanity, I needed to take a very long break from myself and this blog. TSM, however, is not something I have taken a break from and never will because it works, but it does not work as quickly as the literature out there says. I am on month 9 for example and I still am not cured, but my drinking is at a civilized level which is thrilling. I am currently on holiday in the UK which prompts me to drink like a Viking, but I have been drinking like a "normal" person (impossible in my pre TSM days). Normal to me--on holiday--is 2 or 3 glasses of wine in the evening and I"ve done this with ease on this trip.

Pinky cramp! More coming soon!

Week 24: Quick Posting for the Dog's Sake

2010-08-02T18:40:00.004-04:00

I just realized that it has been over a week since I've shared my "progress" or more accurately my life in the TSM Twilight Zone, so here I am writing a quickie post because my dog is looking at me with very sincere, intense eyes and she won't let me write for very long when she has walking on her mind.

Tired of counting units, tired of dealing with alcohol, tired of TSM, tired of being tired of TSM, I forced myself to go AF a few days ago and I do mean forced. I went away for the weekend and purposefully left my naltrexone all by its lonely self on my kitchen counter. So when cocktail hour rolled around I had no choice, but to abstain. If I didn't, I would start to undo the work I've so carefully done on my brain with naltrexone for the past 6 months....not an option. I had an explosion of panic both nights that felt like an eternity, but alas clocked in at less than 5 minutes and then my brain was on to other things like dinner, doggie belly rubs, and old movies. I must say I'm surprised how easy it was given my level of fear at the very thought of not having a glass of booze in hand.

The few days prior to my AF days were equally pleasant because I was effortlessly able to stop at 2 or 3 units at dinner. Of course, just when I start to feel confident the mist of the twilight zone rolls in and my behavior turns its back on my truest desire and deepest need (not to drink!). Somewhere between day 1 and 7 of week 24, I drank more than a bottle of champagne and stumbled into bed with a nightcap, oh, the misery I can bestow upon myself in the dark hours of the night. Needless to say, I woke up angry and with the lovely gift of a whopping headache that didn't go away all day long.

Week 25 started yesterday and my AF and low units joy is equally matched with fear and worry that I must beat off with a stick at times. But it is OK, I'm getting used to it. My dog, on the other hand could care less, she just wants to go pee on a tree.
Before naltrexone: 42-50 units per week • Unit count for week 1 through week 24: 18units • 32units • 39units • 49units • 32units • 25units • 27units • 28units • 34units, 1 AF day. • 42units • 44units • 39 units • 42units • 35.5units • 37units • 31units • 35units • 38units • 49units • 49units • 31units • 33units • 30units • 24units

Week 23: Yes? No? Maybe? Sort of.....

2010-07-22T10:46:00.001-04:00

I rolled into week 23 with the confidence of a samurai warrior and a string of low unit evenings. Then for no obvious reason I popped open a bottle of champagne and watched it disappear completely. It's boiling here in Virginia, so the first few icy cold glasses were a joy, but that is no excuse to guzzle the entire bottle. Where did the nice lady with a 2 drink limit disappear to? I haven't a clue and clearly she decided to take a mini-holiday because the next 2 nights were filled with almost as much. (actually, I'm not 100% certain about one of these nights because I didn't have access to my handy Pyrex glassware measuring cup which has tallied my units from the beginning). Luckily, last night I got it back down to a civilized amount (4 units), but this took a little bit of thought and a dash of effort which I didn't mind at all. I'm actually getting better at the "effort" thing....thank you TSM!

I truly feel like I'm in a deep, immeasurable space--The Sinclair Method abyss--filled with kindred spirits bumping around in the dark experiencing agony, confusion, and brief moments of euphoria. I'm 23 weeks into TSM, I've had many moments of feeling cured and then the pendulum swings to moments of excessive drinking and I find myself desperately searching for answers or more specifically reassurance. I'm not alone, we "not-yet-cured" who come in all shapes and sizes, from binge drinkers to daily wine drinkers to strictly bourbon drinkers, are all looking at TSM and wondering, "how does one measure and quantify all of this information and glimmers of different behavior?"

I walk around all day with TSM floating in my head and my naltrexone safely tucked away in my shiny pill caddy that never leaves my side. I have no words of wisdom for myself or anyone else, I just know this journey continues like it will for many and where the bus stops, nobody knows. Actually, here is where I'd like to throw in a registered complaint. Many people read Dr. Eskapa's brilliant book, The Cure for Alcoholism, and prepare themselves for the short ride of 3-4 months to being cured like it's a trip to the corner candy store. Maybe this timeline is true for Finns (TSM trials took place in Finland), maybe they are a calm and predictable lot and the rest of the world is a complicated, erratic group of souls. Whatever the case may be, it doesn't bode well to have this handful of months dangled in front us because we are already a vulnerable and insecure lot. Many cured TSMers have taken 8 months or more, but even knowing this fact our bubbles burst a little bit when we find ourselves way over the 4 month threshold and are still experiencing alcoholic behavior.

OK, now that I got that off my chest, I'm rolling up my sleeves for week 24!

Before naltrexone: 42-50 units per week • Unit count for week 1 through week 23: 18units • 32units • 39units • 49units • 32units • 25units • 27units • 28units • 34units, 1 AF day. • 42units • 44units • 39 units • 42units • 35.5units • 37units • 31units • 35units • 38units • 49units • 49units • 31units • 33units • 30units

Week 22: The Cure is Skulking About

2010-07-13T12:33:00.006-04:00

It's been a wild few weeks—upping my dose to 100mg, pulverizing it, feeling like a zombie, panic, going back down to 50mg and then, nothing less than a mini miracle...

...A cured TSMer mentioned to me not long ago that he chews his naltrexone and it makes all the difference in the world. I dismissed this suggestion like I would a Jehovah Witness at my door—quickly and with little doubt or remorse. But then I thought, I've tried almost everything else, so why not this? Chewing is not the same as pulverizing (which I did last week then read, it may not be safe . See Post, Week 21: 100 mg is the Magic Number) and since the pill has a score down the middle which indicates it can be cut in half, I thought, "why not?" Well, it did indeed, "make all the difference in the world."

The last three nights I've been hanging out with friends and celebrating birthdays which usually means a steady flow of wine and laughter, but something wonderfully strange happened. I chewed my bitter naltrexone (I couldn't get the bits that stuck in my teeth out fast enough) and never appreciated orange juice so much because it washed the nastiness away pretty quickly. Five seconds of discomfort was definitely worth what followed—I drank like a normal person--2 units two nights and 1.5 units one night.

Whenever I've introduced effort in this TSM process, I start to worry and obsess about alcohol and scrutinize and question my every move--what makes this any different from my pre-tsm days? It's a miserable and exhausting place to be in and little else gets accomplished. So the biggest and best part of these last few days is the fact that my low units took absolutely no effort on my part. I repeat, absolutely no effort. In other words, I'd think, "do I want another drink?" And 100% of me said, "no".

I find myself contemplating shouting this from a rooftop, but I will refrain from this and just jump for glee in my head for now and keep chewing that bitter pill and see where the rest of the week takes me.

Before naltrexone: 42-50 units per week • Unit count for week 1 through week 22: 18units • 32units • 39units • 49units • 32units • 25units • 27units • 28units • 34units, 1 AF day. • 42units • 44units • 39 units • 42units • 35.5units • 37units • 31units • 35units • 38units • 49units • 49units • 31units • • 33units

Week 21: Patience, actually, is the Magic Number...

2010-07-07T15:21:00.007-04:00

....I know, I know, I've said it before, but I guess I need to say it again.

"Patience and perseverance have a magical effect before which difficulties disappear and obstacles vanish."--John Quincy Adams

It seems no matter how much I bargain with the devil, dally with my dosage, or pray for a speedy recovery, TSM will take its own sweet time and that's that! After upping my dose to 100 mg for 7 days and noticing immediate results, I'm just as quickly scaling back to 50mg again. Why? Because I noticed the medication lingered in my system the next day, causing an uncomfortable foggy malaise (in other words, it didn't metabolize out of my system quickly). It may have brought my units down, but at too heavy of a price.

Pharmacological extinction is a process by which addictions are unlearned (extinguished) and this isn't a quick fix; it's also largely like a magic show--the real work going on in your brain is behind the curtain. Yes, a lucky few get cured in 3 to 4 months, but the majority of us will be on this journey for a much longer time. Why, why, why do I keep forgetting this? Not to mention, watching my consumption of alcohol on a daily basis is like watching a disastrous haircut grow out--it's a whopping pain in the ass!

Speaking of pain, the pronounced and confused pain I am hearing over at the TSM forum sounds like a group of howling banshees. Everyone seems to be clinging to a very thin thread, asking the same questions over and over, desperately seeking reassurance. We are haunted on a regular basis by the the bone-chilling thought, "what if this doesn't work for me?" We are undermined by skeptical loved ones, sabotaged by our own insecurities, and threatened by our fickle and fluctuating units. What we all need to do is deceptively simple, so we resist it and often forget it, but we shouldn't-- just chill and take our pill....and that is all, end of story.

When I do the opposite of chill, i.e., panic, I end up ignoring and often discarding my biggest achievement, which is my improved and ever evolving relationship with alcohol (very little craving, drinking slowly, forgetting alcohol is in my glass, and being able to stop before I polish off everything in the house). These achievements are huge and were next to impossible pre-TSM, but they get old fast and I grow impatient for more. SO, I'm going to take another chill pill and I recommend all my fellow TSMers who are in the panic zone do the same.

Here's to small victories and being prepared for a lengthy journey which demands much patience and many changes of underwear along the way.

Before naltrexone: 42-50 units per week • Unit count for week 1 through week 21: 18units • 32units • 39units • 49units • 32units • 25units • 27units • 28units • 34units, 1 AF day. • 42units • 44units • 39 units • 42units • 35.5units • 37units • 31units • 35units • 38units • 49units • 49units • 31units •

Week 21: 100mg is the Magic Number

2010-06-30T15:10:00.009-04:00

I'm a few days into week 21, devouring my usual bottle of wine per night, when I just crack and my anger and frustration begins to flow like the BP oil spill.

Week 19 and 20 were bleaker than a Brontë novel and I feel like I would've had just as much success popping a few Chicklets, as I did with my 50mg of naltrexone.

The commonly prescribed dose is 50mg, but let's face it, people often need to tweak their dosage—what's good for one, might not be good for another. Some people level off at 25mg, some at 50mg, some at 75mg, and so on. I tried 75mg a while back and it made NO difference, so I went back to 50mg. I never thought of going up to 100mg until I cracked and I'm glad I did because I'm on day three of 100mg and I think it is the magic number.

I'm like a disciplined nun, OK, not quite, but the last few nights I've sipped and enjoyed 2 units of champagne while making dinner and then 1 unit of red with dinner. The alcohol had a much bigger effect on me, a few units felt like ten, and after these few drinks, my desire pointed to, "NO MORE!" I effortlessly switched over to water the rest of the evening (the key word here is, "effortless"). Actually on night number three, alcohol popped into my tired head again around 1.a.m. when I couldn't sleep, so I flipped on a horror film, freaked out (trigger!), and proceeded to have one more unit of red to help me get back to sleep.

Now, I've been around the TSM block way too many times to instantly jump for joy, but I do finally feel like there is something to this 100mg. I'll keep you posted!

P.S. I must share—on day one of my newly increased dose, I decided to crush the pills. I did this in an attempt to increase potency. I got this crackerjack idea from Elizabeth Wurtzel of Prozac Nation fame, who opted to pulverize her Ritalin and snort it when swallowing it failed to work its magic (I'll save the snorting for a more desperate time).

I pulled my French mortar and pestle off the shelf, crushed 2 pink pills, carefully poured the powder into an emptied out vitamin capsule and swallowed it like an eager teenager experimenting with her mom's diazepam.

I have to admit, I was thrilled with the results. The honeymoon phase was back in full force and I had a renewed desire to only drink a little bit of alcohol. I then decided to Google "crushing pills potency" and the word "fatal" popped up just a few too many times for my comfort. Here is what one site said:

Having crushed medicinal pills could have serious, even fatal, consequences, on your health.

Experts estimate that over 80% of people find it convenient to crush tablets into powder before swallowing them. According to the doctors, crushing pills can alter their effect besides affecting the way the drug is released and absorbed in our digestive tract.

A lot of medicines available in the form of tablets have a special coating which prevents the chemical inside from coming in contact with the epithelial lining of your stomach. The medicine is meant to pass through your stomach and reach your intestine for absorption. When crushed the medicine comes into the contact with the stomach wall which may lead to a gastric injury and even bleeding.

A number of medicines, the experts warn, are effective when they are released slowly into your digestive tract. For example, anti-diabetic drug Metformin is meant to be released over 24 hours. Crushing of such medicines would lead to their action lasting only for a limited period only.

According to a drug expert, a tablet may have some binding agents and other accessory chemicals, which often are not spread uniformly across a tablet. Thus consuming even half a tablet with the intention of having half the dosage of the medicine may change their effect when consumed individually at two different times. Hence it may be thoroughly wrong to imagine that breaking a tablet into two would reduce its potency by half.

As has been observed most patients who crush tablets before their intake mix them in juice or milk. This may result into undesirable interaction of drug with the liquid. According to the experts, drugs that are not scored or lined from the center must never be crushed under any circumstance.

I was somewhat relieved when I read the last sentence because my naltrexone does indeed have a score mark down the middle, so crushing could potentially be safe, but I'm not going to risk it. I'm going to go back to the time-honored tradition of swallowing my 2 solid pinky-orangey pills and see where that takes me.

Week 20: Lying

2010-06-23T17:40:00.006-04:00

This might blow my integrity with some of you, but I have to be honest, I desperately wanted to lie to you this week because my cup runneth over with shame. I said I was going to attempt a few AF days this week and not one made an appearance, in fact, I ran in the other direction and drank a full bottle of champagne every single night this week and no, I didn't happen to attend many weddings. It's hard to admit this and I've been swirling down the shame spiral all week, so in my desperation, lying was the first thing that popped into my frantic head. BUT I stopped myself before the damage begun, and like the kid who gets in trouble and has to stand in front of the class and apologize, I'm coming clean.

I don't want anyone to doubt TSM because of my champagne extravaganza. I'm very, very stubborn and set in my ways and although alcohol does not beckon me like it used to, I'm simply not giving it up. Every night this week, I drank half the bottle as slowly as a nun and then I decided to finish the bottle before bed. I'm letting my fear, my laziness, my habit rule the roost and it has got to stop, I just don't know when this will happen or when I'll want it to happen.

I also have to admit, I'm not trying at all (as if I need to point this out). It's like there's a feather on the ground and I think it's too heavy to pick up. I feel like calling myself every name in the book, but I'll settle for moron; I choose this because Dictionary.com says, "an idiot is a stupid person with a mental age below three years, while a moron is a stupid person with a mental age of between seven to twelve years who is notably stupid or lacking in good judgment." Perfect!

A humongous part of me is hoping (demanding) that I'll have one of those light switch moments where I go, "ick! I don't want champagne, give me a Dr. Pepper and be quick about it." I want it to be effortless, like putting my socks on in the morning. I don't want to feel even the tinniest twinge of discomfort (I must insert "moron" again here). This light switch thingy may never occurr or if it does, TSM may take longer than it really should. It's like dieting—I can starve and lose 5 lbs. a week or I can eliminate the dinner roll and lose 10 lbs. in a year. I prefer the latter.

Before naltrexone: 42-50 units per week • Unit count for week 1 through week 20: 18units • 32units • 39units • 49units • 32units • 25units • 27units • 28units • 34units, 1 AF day. • 42units • 44units • 39 units • 42units • 35.5units • 37units • 31units • 35units • 38units • 49units • 49units •

Week 19: Alcohol Calories--A Wolf in Sheep's Clothing

2010-06-16T16:19:00.002-04:00

The temperatures are ruthless here in the South and they have no mercy for those of us carrying around extra flesh. Beer bellies to chunky butts, listen up--the fastest and surest way of getting and staying fat isn't pizza (although that doesn't help) it is alcohol. I've known this for a long time and I'm sure many of you have known it, too, but when cocktail hour beckons the monster doesn't care if our inner thighs rub together with extra blubber, so we tend to ignore the evil calories lurking in our booze of choice.

Here's some scary, eye-opening science: "When you drink alcohol, it’s broken down into acetate (basically vinegar), which the body will burn before any other calorie you’ve consumed or stored, including fat or even sugar. So if you drink and consume more calories than you need, you’re more likely to store the fat from the Cheez Whiz you ate and the sugar from the Coke you drank because your body is getting all its energy from the acetate in the beer you sucked down. Further, studies show that alcohol temporarily inhibits “lipid oxidation”— in other words, when alcohol is in your system, it’s harder for your body to burn fat that’s already there. Fat slips right into your saddlebags, no costume change necessary."--excerpt from Alcohol and Calories: Does Drinking Cause Weight Gain

The painful truth, we must choose between our favorite skinny jeans and those 5 glasses of chardonnay or the six pack abs and our beloved 12 pack of ice cold beer--a strong, lean body and generous alcohol consumption simply don't mix.

Why am I sharing all of this today? Because in my desperation to lose some weight before I lose my mind, I've been counting calories, not only units, and now I think I might just lose my mind anyway. In order to lose 1 pound a week (I like to go slow) I should be consuming 1365 calories per day according to my nifty, new friend, "My Fitness Pal" app which I downloaded for free last week. I've been counting my calories for the past 6 days and every single day, I mysteriously go over by 500 or 600 calories. Gee, what could it be? The collards I have growing in my backyard that I eat by the bowl-full? The brown rice? The fruit shakes with two small bananas? Mmmmmmmmm, or maybe the champagne? A bottle weighs in at around 550 calories....what a coincidence!

I really should be talking cravings and units, so let me jump over to that fun topic for a bit. This week my physical craving for alcohol continues to be pretty low, but the mechanical habit--hand on glass, glass to mouth, is stubborn and is not going away. For instance, last night over the course of about 4 hours I drank a bottle of champagne, shy one glass. It was pretty boring beyond the first glass, so why continue? I don't know. Why does anyone do anything? I simply kept drinking. It was there. I was there. The glass was there. I had time to kill.

So I've decided to bring in the booze police and set down a rule. I'm going to attempt, genuinely attempt, for the first time since embarking on TSM to introduce a few alcohol free days and see if this becomes effortless like so many of the cured claim once they've reached a certain level of disinterest in alcohol. I'm hoping like many things in life, my fears (fear of change, fear of the unknown and so on) are bigger than the object of my fear and I'll be going from a wee bit of initial discomfort and squirming to thinking, "this is SO easy, what was all the fuss about?" At which point not only will the 1 pound a week start to melt off my thick body, but I'll actually be closer to being cured with a very happy liver, to boot!

Before naltrexone: 42-50 units per week • Unit count for week 1 through week 19: 18units • 32units • 39units • 49units • 32units • 25units • 27units • 28units • 34units, 1 AF day. • 42units • 44units • 39 units • 42units • 35.5units • 37units • 31units • 35units • 38units • 38units

Week 18: The Girl Who Cried Wolf

2010-06-11T10:37:00.001-04:00

JUST when I start to feel next to normal and want to shout out, "I'm cured, I'm cured!" I suck down an entire bottle of wine again. I then question everything and put great effort into trying not to feel like a failure and a loser.

I'm amazed at the people over at the TSM forum who announce they are "cured" after a few months. Let me put it more honestly: yes, I'm amazed, but my amazement is smothered in a thick layer of jealousy. Yet, unlike this newly cured group, I don't think I'm the type that will be declaring curedom until I spend many months dwelling in mostly abstinence without effort and get through every button pushing, trigger raising, stress inducing situation without uncorking the bottle. Once all of this takes place, I will dance on a table top and wear a t-shirt that says "shackled no more by the evil elixir!...or something of that nature. The mind is a vast, stubborn, and mysterious arena, so this could take years.

Even though my name still remains off the "cured" list and I'm drinking a little too much from time to time, my progress is palpable and I'm becoming a different person even though it is all shades of gray. Week 18 was mostly filled with 4 and 5 unit nights and then a few full bottle nights. My ability to leave alcohol untouched in the house is still the most miraculous gift and not having my first drink until 8pm sometimes is truly amazing to me. TSM works, it just doesn't cooperate nor follow the path we would like it to take (anything worth anything isn't a straight, narrow, and neat path anyway, right?)

As promised, I'm trying to be hyper aware of my feelings and cravings. What can I tell you? I didn't have a desperate, aching desire to get to the bottle this week, but certainly looked forward to drinking every night. Overall, I'm drinking much more slowly and regardless of my mood, I'm not turning to alcohol as the quickie answer to stress, boredom, fear, etc. I'm very attached to my dear old friend, champagne, for sure, but my feelings for him are much more tame these days and for this, I am very thankful. And onward I go!

Before naltrexone: 42-50 units per week • Unit count for week 1 through week 18: 18units • 32units • 39units • 49units • 32units • 25units • 27units • 28units • 34units, 1 AF day. • 42units • 44units • 39 units • 42units • 35.5units • 37units • 31units • 35units • 38units

Week 17: Bored to Death

2010-06-03T16:06:00.005-04:00

It's hard to believe another week has rolled by and I'm still an alcoholic! OK, I'm kidding, but this process does get tiring and rather boring. Anybody else out there tired and/or bored???

I upped my dose to 75mg because I found myself enjoying myself a leeeeeetle too much again and that extra 1/2 pill seems to do the trick. I went from 8 units to a more manageable 4 units before one could shout "more chardonnay, please!"

I'm so bored that I don't even want to share my boring, boring, boring drinking observations for Week 17, but here's the mini-condensed version anyway, my mind is still occupying itself with a vast cornucopia of thoughts and ideas and alcohol pops in for a visit from time to time, drinks continue to get upstaged by a nice meal or an exciting portion of a movie. But like gum on my shoe, I cannot seem to get rid of the glee that I feel when I take that first sip or two and the warmth washes over my body like a hot towel from the dryer. Ahhh! My question at this time steadily remains, "HOW will I become an occasional drinker with this wonderful effect remaining intact?" Who would want to eliminate that element of magic from their daily life?

Because of my bourgeoning boredom, I'm going to ignore TSM today and chitchat about one of my favorite subjects, FOOD! I'm in Asian mode at the moment and I recently perfected my Japanese soup base. I used to swirl some miso in filtered water, add a dash of wine, and seaweed and call it a broth...I should have called it swill. Well, I recently added fresh grated ginger and a healthy portion of sake and now I think I should win an award. After assembling the entire soup (soba noodles, enoki & shiitake mushrooms, spring onion, mung bean sprouts, sesame seeds, a sprinkling of cayenne and then pouring my magic broth over the above in individual soup bowls), I served it to my husband who I'm convinced has now put me in a very special category of magical soup chef.

What's also nice about this soup is that you feel wonderful after you eat it because it's loaded with goodness: Mung bean sprouts are an excellent source of vitamin C and K and are rich in Omega-3 & 6 fatty acids; Miso is high in protein and contains many trace minerals, including zinc, manganese, and copper, which help strengthen the immune system; the high amount of nutrients present in miso helps boost energy, too! Shiitake mushrooms reduce cholesterol and they are a formidable cancer fighter, as well.

The trick is to also keep the noodles separate until adding to each individual bowl of soup. If the noodles are allowed to mingle with the entire pot of soup they'll soak up the broth like a hungry tapeworm and you'll be left with a big, heavy, soggy mess, not even worthy of your dog's bowl.

OK, back to the booze! My biggest challenge beyond the boredom is staying focused on my FEELINGS about all this alcohol business and I must admit, I've been quite lazy about checking in with myself lately. I will sit on my couch around cocktail hour and wonder if my thought of a drink is a craving or habit. Physically, I am usually not pining for a drink nor do I get cranky if one isn't in short reach, but I eventually roll around to, "I want a drink...I want a drink." I feel like Veruca Salt in Willy Wonka and The Chocolate Factory, who wanted everything from an Oompa-Loompa to a nut-sorting squirrel, the only difference, I want everything from champagne to, well, champagne!

Week 18 starts today and I promise to explore my feelings and perhaps even my feeling's feelings.

Before naltrexone: 42-50 units per week • Week 1: 18units • Week 2: 32units • Week: 3: 39units • Week: 4: 49units • Week 5: 32units • Week: 6: 25units • Week 7: 27units • Week 8: 28units • Week 9: 34units, 1 AF day. • Week 10: 42units • Week 11: 44units • Week 12: 39 units • Week 13: 42units • Week 14: 35.5units • Week 15: 37units • Week 16: 31units • Week 17: 35 units

Some Doctors are Very Cool

2010-05-25T16:07:00.004-04:00

As some of you may already know, I recently searched the web for a decent online resource to score some naltrexone, but ultimately couldn't bring myself to buy questionable meds online without a prescription. So I decided to take a leap of faith and call my new doctor. I hoped to achieve 2 things: 1. She wouldn't look upon me as a loser for being an addict and 2. She'd support me on this TSM journey and grant me a lifetime supply of naltrexone.

After rehearsing what I was going to say, I made the scary call. Straight away, I asked if she was familiar with The Sinclair Method (this was a very calculated move on my part because I was 99% sure she hadn't heard of it and I knew this would give me some kind of advantage. Why? I haven't a clue, but nevertheless, I thought it would). As predicted, she said, "no, what is it?" I then launched into a manifesto of slick marketing lingo to sell her on the idea--I said The Sinclair Method is a "breakthrough", "cutting edge" treatment that is curing alcoholics across the globe (all true of course, but excellent choice of words, I thought).

I then told her I've tried everything from therapy to outpatient programs to AA and nothing has worked until TSM. I said I was ashamed to share my addiction with her, but I was tired of lying to the doctor at the nearby clinic where I was currently getting my naltrexone who thinks I'm abstinent on the stuff, so would she support me with TSM? And before I got to the part about offering to copy the section of Dr. Eskapa's book for health practitioners, she cut me off and said "absolutely, anything that will help you, I will support." I was on cloud nine and a HUGE stress was lifted off my shoulders. I'm also glad that I spread the word a little further about TSM, so maybe she'll share it with other patients.

I want to say, that if you are thinking of approaching your doctor about TSM and think he/she may be resistant to the idea like many doctors, then I suggest you use some of my lingo. I think the word "support" is key. Asking your doctor to support you is powerful, doctors are inclined to support patients and if he/she says "NO", then essentially they are saying they are NOT supporting you and that would be very bad for them and they know it. Also, I think it was important to point out to my doctor that everything else has failed me and TSM is working, so how could anyone say "NO" to that?

The last four weeks my units have lowered down to the thirties which isn't miraculous, but it is amazing progress for me. I have booze scattered throughout the house--wine in the fridge, rum in the cabinet, beer in the cellar and I have no desire to plow through it like a sailor on leave. The numbers don't tell the whole story and they certainly don't reveal the behind the scenes stuff going on in my brain...something big is starting to happen and I'm very excited....but remaining calm.

Life is good.

Week 1: 18units • Week 2: 32units • Week: 3: 39units • Week: 4: 49units • Week 5: 32units • Week: 6: 25units • Week 7: 27units • Week 8: 28units • Week 9: 34units, 1 AF day. • Week 10: 42units • Week 11: 44units • Week 12: 39 units • Week 13: 42 • Week 14: 35.5 • Week 15: 37 units • Week 16: 31

Drinking "Normal"

2010-05-24T11:40:00.005-04:00

I'm as confident as a varsity cheerleader that my current "normal" drinking habit truly indicates that my brain chemistry is finally changing and the addiction superhighway in my noggin is indeed turning into that promised back country road. Last night I had 4 units, the night before that 3.5, the night before that 4 units...you get the picture. From a health perspective and from my personal perspective, however, this is still way to much booze consumption to guarantee a smooth ride into my twilight years.

Although I feel like I've been doing TSM since the days of the Old Testament, I'm only at the 4 month mark. During this sojourn I've worried, freaked, celebrated, doubted, freaked some more, felt different, felt worse, and ultimately I am left with a feeling of amazement because this s--t really does work....it really does. I have more months to go before I'm "cured", but I just don't have that King Kong obsession for alcohol anymore, many other thoughts occupy this brain of mine and it is such a blessing.

My biggest challenge at the moment seems to be that I still really desire/crave a drink at the end of each day and I just don't know how that cog in this wheel is going to change unless I join an evening bingo club or lock away the booze? Regardless, I simply must get out of my way and let naltrexone work its magic and one day this daily desire may just disappear, too...until then I'll allow myself a little more doubt and freaking out.

Before naltrexone: 42-50 units per week • Week 1: 18units • Week 2: 32units • Week: 3: 39units • Week: 4: 49units • Week 5: 32units • Week: 6: 25units • Week 7: 27units • Week 8: 28units • Week 9: 34units, 1 AF day. • Week 10: 42units • Week 11: 44units • Week 12: 39 units • Week 13: 42 • Week 14: 35.5 • Week 15: 37 units • Week 16: 31

Subtle Changes

2010-05-17T09:48:00.001-04:00

I wish my units would behave themselves and stay on the low side every single night (who doesn't!), but I knew this wasn't going to happen or at least I was prepared for it NOT to happen. Lowering my expectations was a good thing because my units did indeed go back up and not only did they go back up, but they exceeded my usual pre-naltrexone habits which added a nice sting to my madness and worry. Over the weekend I drank copious amounts of wine and the other night I fell into an old habit of "borrowing" another bottle from my friend next door (I had just finished my pinot and happened to be taking care of her dogs while she was away, so I helped myself to a few glasses of a nice chardonnay and I don't even like chardonnay!).

In my weakened and confused state I darted around the TSM forum and found some reassurance. One person commented that his units never went up or down, he drank the same amount, day in and day out for 6 months, then all of a sudden a miracle, his desire for alcohol went out the window and that was that. I think he's mostly abstinent now! Lordy, lordy, that's good news!

On another note, my naltrexone prescription is running out and I just spent the last 2 hours researching online pharmacies and I simply cannot bring myself to purchase from some rogue pharmacy. So I'm going to call an addiction psychiatrist tomorrow and see what transpires. I'm not going to beat around the bush, I will ask her point blank if she is familiar with The Sinclair Method and if she'd be willing to hand over some naltrexone. I'm not in the mood to go to my local clinic like I did last time and lie about my abstinence on naltrexone. I'm lacking drama this week.

After 2 nights of a bottle plus of wine (7 & 8 units), I decided to switch to red and see if that would help me taper my consumption and it did! I drank 4.5 units last night and what a relief. I think I might stick to red for a while because I tend to drink this more slowly.

Goodness this can be tedious work sometimes and it is easy to lose hope, but as my dear husband pointed out, I used to never, ever be able to leave alcohol alone in the house and despite my fluctuating units, this is indeed some sort of progress no matter how subtle or small.

Before naltrexone: 42-50 units per week • Week 1: 18units • Week 2: 32units • Week: 3: 39units • Week: 4: 49units • Week 5: 32units • Week: 6: 25units • Week 7: 27units • Week 8: 28units • Week 9: 34units, 1 AF day. • Week 10: 42units • Week 11: 44units • Week 12: 39 units • Week 13: 42 • Week 14: 35.5 • Week 15: 37 units

Deception is So Easy

2010-05-11T14:21:00.004-04:00

An alcoholic's ability to deceive herself should be applauded on a grand scale just for the absurdity aspect alone. I'm committed to getting well, and devoted to keeping accurate records, yet this loony person that dwells inside me is always trying to mess with the units. Let's get this out of the way right now, I had 4 units of champagne last night, not 2, not 3.5, but I tried to turn it into 3.5 because I sort of left a tiny bit in the glass before retiring to bed. I do this for an obvious reason--to feel better about myself, but it's tomfoolery and I know it. It's like a man who gets a blow job (is this one word or two?) from a co-worker and doesn't think he's cheated on his wife because they didn't have sex--MAJOR tomfoolery. I do this frequently, not give blow jobs to co-workers, but canoodle my alcohol units in my head, luckily when my units make it to paper I record them like a lab technician, very accurately.

The bottom line, I should feel good about myself or the very least, accept myself, no-matter-what; after all, feeling bad about myself is part of what got me into this alcoholic jungle to begin with! Deception aside, I'm glad I only had 4 units last night, but the perfectionist in me always wants it to be less. But I repeat, I'm happy about the 4 units! More importantly, however, I am happy about the "relationship" to the drink. I had 2 units while making dinner and really had enough, but habit had me pour 2 more which was quickly upstaged by a delicious, rustic French boule that I had bought at the market. I kept slicing and eating bits of it as I cooked and there my lonely glass of champagne remained, pushed to the back corner of my tiny kitchen counter and largely ignored. I contemplated pouring it back into the bottle, but then I decided to slowly drink it throughout the meal. I've now had several days of "normal" type drinking which makes me want to sing through the streets, but again, I shall remain as calm and steady as a meditating monk and get on with my day. I also plan to actively start liking myself more and beating myself up less (let's see how long that sticks).

Before naltrexone: 42-50 units per week • Week 1: 18units • Week 2: 32units • Week: 3: 39units • Week: 4: 49units • Week 5: 32units • Week: 6: 25units • Week 7: 27units • Week 8: 28units • Week 9: 34units, 1 AF day. • Week 10: 42units • Week 11: 44units • Week 12: 39 • Week 13: 42 • Week 14: 35.5

Patience is Hard Even for the Dalai Lama

2010-05-09T17:33:00.005-04:00

"Be patient toward all that is unsolved in your heart and try to love the questions themselves. Do not now seek the answers, which cannot be given you because you would not be able to live them. And the point is to live everything. Live the questions”-Rainer Maria Rilke

Within the last 5 days, I've had a bright, shiny piece of hope float my way again; I had 2 days in a row when I drank like a "normal" person and my relationship with alcohol seemed different. I love when this happens--I jump up and down for joy, a parade marches down the street in my honor (in my head), and I want anyone and everyone to notice that there's enough wine left in the bottle to drown a mouse. This jubilation I feel is the equivalent of the excitement a parent feels when their child has just taken his first step or first poop on his own--NO ONE ELSE GIVES A FLYING FIG! But it is SUCH a huge deal to us that we'll risk alienating friends and boring family members to tears just to recount the story one-more-time (preferably accompanied by many photos). We just want the world to know...we just do.

I played it smart this time, however, and made little fanfare of my 3.5 and 4 unit days because I think I'm finally settling into the mercurial ways of naltrexone. I've given a lot of lip service in this blog about the TSM rollercoaster ride, but my mind and heart were always laser beam focused on being cured yesterday and looking for any little sign of my miraculous recovery. I was convinced that I was special and that things would happen differently and quickly for me...what a birdbrain.

I'm up against a lot. Years of habitual drinking, chockablock full of imbibing for every reason under the sun--drinking when I'm happy, drinking when I'm sad, drinking when I'm bored, drinking for confidence, drinking when I'm scared, drinking to celebrate, drinking just because, and the best of all, drinking to avoid myself, reality, and laundry. So I think it's kind of foolish to expect a smooth ride or a short journey and I think I might just be starting to understand this because the 3.5 & 4 unit days were book-ended by 7 & 8 unit days and I didn't panic or beat myself up. I didn't dwell on it either, I took note and moved on.

The roots are deep and stubborn....I started to truly use and abuse alcohol when my father died. I was 27 and angry and I discovered that a generous tumbler of red wine on the bedside table helped me go to sleep and ease my pain. I don't remember if I did this every night and I certainly didn't think I had a problem at this point because I was grieving--I used alcohol to ease my grief and avoid my grief. I thought, doesn't everybody do this? Certainly the Irish do.

Why am I bringing this past junk up? Because its part of the massive structure that I've built up over the years that needs to be dismantled by naltrexone and my awareness of this and keeping it on my radar will actually make this journey a little less confusing and a little less painful.

Not to get all Jungian on you, but this is indeed part of the work, too. Looking at our muddled emotions and fears and working through things is all part of this journey, like it or not....and I usually don't like it, but I will try. Like my beloved, Stuart Smalley says, "face it, then you can erase it."

Before naltrexone: 42-50 units per week • Week 1: 18units • Week 2: 32units • Week: 3: 39units • Week: 4: 49units • Week 5: 32units • Week: 6: 25units • Week 7: 27units • Week 8: 28units • Week 9: 34units, 1 AF day. • Week 10: 42units • Week 11: 44units • Week 12: 39 • Week 13: 42

Nursing Homes Make You Drink More Than Usual....

2010-05-05T17:00:00.005-04:00

Day 87-92:.....at least they do in my case. I'm back from New Hampshire and Maine where I spent most of my time with individuals in nursing homes. It was exhausting, emotional, sad, endearing, and above all else a recipe for disaster in my TSM progress. I've been glued to wine these past few months, but in New England I discovered dirty martinis and really pretty pear/lavender martinis. If this isn't bad enough, my liquid madness washed down copious amounts of linguine, tiramisu, and ice cream. Somehow I managed to not gain any weight; I think I can chalk this up to nervous energy produced by nursing home nightmares. One of the homes housed a man who was only about 60 years old, who was walking around squeezing anyone's arm he could grab, which produced a series of screeches and howls. I waited in sheer terror as the arm squeezer drew near, just in the nick of time, I was rescued by my 87 year old cousin Marjorie, who blocked him with her sturdy cane and said, "don't come any further buster" at which point he turned and walked into the T.V. room to find another victim.

All of my biggest fears, from going loopy to dying, resurrected themselves and lingered around all day and all night which produced a desperate need in me to escape. I didn't even try and not drink, I just knew I would or had to and would gleefully take my naltrexone every night. My mother got to see all of my drinking first- hand and asked, "tell me again what this method is you are doing to cure your drinking?" She said it with such worry in her eyes that I momentarily thought of telling her that I was already cured and I was simply cutting loose on vacation and would be abstinent when I returned home.

To make matters worse, I voraciously read and finished Dr. Olivier Ameisen's book, The End of My Addiction, in which he dismisses naltrexone as a temporary fix at best and says the ONLY true cure for alcoholism, where addicts become indifferent to the substance, is the muscle relaxant baclofen. What the f---?? Anyway, after I finished the book, I studied Dr. Ameisen's jovial, laughing face on the dust jacket and decided to contact him because he makes no mention of The Sinclair Method. He also doesn't mention if naltrexone's inefficacy is due to it being used while abstinent. And as all we TSMers know, this is doo-doo! I will keep you posted on what Dr. A has to say when he writes back.

I now have 13 weeks under my belt (42 units this week) and I'm anxious to see what the future has in store for me.

Before naltrexone: 42-50 units per week • Week 1: 18units • Week 2: 32units • Week: 3: 39units • Week: 4: 49units • Week 5: 32units • Week: 6: 25units • Week 7: 27units • Week 8: 28units • Week 9: 34units, 1 AF day. • Week 10: 42units • Week 11: 44units • Week 12: 39 • Week 13: 42

Trigger Test

2010-04-28T09:29:00.003-04:00

Day 86: I'm off to New Hampshire and Maine tomorrow to visit some elderly relatives—my beloved Aunt Roza, who is so bent over she resembles a cooked shrimp, and my delightful cousin Marjorie, who just had a stroke and recently put her bean stalk, 90 year old hubby, into a nursing home because he kept falling. He's now falling at the nursing home. Isn't life grand?

I'll be hanging out at a lakeside military nursing facility, a retirement home in Portsmouth, N.H., and my cousin's basement wading through damp boxes and helping her move. I'm not complaining, it warms my heart and brings me great joy to help my family, but the site of droolers, decaying flesh, and walkers has a tendency to send me into a tailspin which usually can only be soothed by my reliable old friend, hootch, booze, a little tipple. But I'm hoping some mysterious naltrexone magic will occur and I'll reject the stuff like the INS rejects immigrants.

Day 86 could have been a one unit day. I took my naltrexone, walked the dog, and when I got home I had no desire to drink. None whatsoever, but I had taken my N, so I felt obligated to drink, so I had 1 unit of champagne which I did not enjoy. That would've been it had my husband not wound up in the E.R. with a potentially ruptured spleen. While we waited for the CAT scan results, the doctor coolly described the spleen as this pill like capsule that we really don't need to survive, but it's a reservoir for blood and if it blows, you can die, just-like-that, at which point I felt sick to my stomach and started to see stars. Luckily my husband's spleen is intact, so we dragged ourselves home at 10pm. I whipped up dinner and mechanically poured myself a hardy glass of champagne, followed by another one (5 units in all). This session of drinking was purely habit; I usually cannot distinguish habit vs. craving so clearly, but tonight it was like a flashing red light. I'm not happy that I drank 5 units, but I'm ecstatic that it had nothing to do with craving!

Since I don't know how to post from my Blackberry, I'll be taking a brief sabbatical from this blog during my geriatric romp up North. I hope when I return, I'll have good news to report. See you next week!

Where Would Any of Us Be Without Our Friends?

2010-04-27T13:57:00.001-04:00

Day 84 & 85: I would not be able to survive this odd, exciting, scary, mysterious TSM process if it wasn't for the friends I've made through this blog and the TSM forum. I commiserate, obsess, and question with some extraordinary individuals and I think we make each other feel less crazy, more "normal" (whatever that is), and more accepting of ourselves. I recently heard from my "guru", a cured TSMer, who is very kind to watch over us struggling newbies and offer excellent guidance and wisdom. Because I'm notorious for freaking out—OFTEN—about this whole TSM process, monsieur guru enlightened me with: "Remember that not only is your improvement non-linear, but you are extinguishing triggers at a subconscious level. So there is improvement going on, even if it isn't palpable and even if it's not directly reflected in your units." Could I love this man anymore? He gives me such hope through this mess.

Anyway, on to the stats! Day 84: 4 units and Day 85: 5 units. I have not introduced an alcohol free (AF) day because I'm scared, it's the same kind of potent fear I felt as a child when my mother ruthlessly pried my beloved blanket from my little fingers. She reminded me of the wicked witch of the west, but now I realize she was just taking it away to wash and mend occasionally. I have not been able to sit comfortably with the idea that I'll be stuck in a house without any alcohol, but I know I should try this and soon since much of my drinking could be more habit than craving these days. Also, my pickled liver would definitely appreciate a break.

These last two days were interesting because after weathering a 2 week storm of copious amounts of wine and champagne, I'm now back to a more civilized amount and am finding it easier to stop at a certain point. On day 84, I was barely interested in finishing the last glass (but did) and on day 85 my husband offered to pour me another glass of champagne to which I venomously replied, I've had enough, thank you." God love him, but what's he going to do next, offer me some acid? OK, so I'm exaggerating, but why would someone on my inner circle, who knows that I'm an alcoholic, offer me another drink? I think he may just be a little bit scared of me...I don't blame him.

So here I am, not desiring to drink an entire bottle of wine like I did in my pre-TSM days, but when 6pm rolls around, I'm popping my naltrexone and counting the minutes. Happy hour will be a tough habit to break, with or without the craving monster because I have warm, fuzzy, nostalgic memories of helping my grandfather make gin and tonics at 6pm on the dot. I was fascinated by all the bling and inspected it like a surgeon—the double-sided jigger, the long mixing spoon with the twisted handle that reminded me of an icicle, the cocktail shaker and silly looking strainer with its Slinky edge. Even though, I barely could reach the counter, my grandfather let me shake his masterpiece concoction and one day he started to let me pour the drinks. This trust he had in me filled a void in my life; it gave me confidence in myself which I so desperately lacked in a house with a tyrannical father. So how does one unwed themselves from such a deep, important memory? Early evening bingo? I'll just have to wait and see....

Before naltrexone: 42-50 units per week • Week 1: 18units • Week 2: 32units • Week: 3: 39units • Week: 4: 49units • Week 5: 32units • Week: 6: 25units • Week 7: 27units • Week 8: 28units • Week 9: 34units, 1 AF day. • Week 10: 42units • Week 11: 44units • Week 12: 39

Never Lose Sight of the Big Picture

2010-04-24T08:51:00.003-04:00

Day 81, 82, & 83: I don't think I can handle daily posts anymore because it's getting so monotonous (I can only imagine what it must be like for you, the reader!). Day 81 and 82 I drank a full bottle of wine both nights ($#@*&^%%$!!!). Day 83, slightly redeeming myself, at 4 units (actually 5, see below for details). Not only is this making my depression worse, it's emptying my bank account quicker! I also have to interject that my unit counting is not 100% accurate—I put 1 bottle of wine at 6 units, but I know that unit measuring depends on the alcohol content and my bottles are usually 12%-13%, so that probably puts the bottle at 7 units, NOT 6! I don't acknowledge this little fact (probably the alcoholic in me...denial, denial, denial and more denial) because if I were to split a bottle up into 7 units, each unit would be so tiny, that it would fit into a doll's tea cup and I just cannot handle this cold truth and opt for cozy denial instead. I guess I'm sharing this because I finally took the time to condense my drinking diary and have decided to add it to the end of each post. For those of you who want a scientifically accurate count of my units, please feel free to tack on about 4 more units to each week. The ONLY number that is accurate is my pre-naltrexone unit count.

OK, this is crazy. I just reread the above paragraph and fooling myself and tweaking the units couldn't be more dumb, so I'm going to add the 4 units to the below numbers now, myself, so the units will now be accurate and from now on my individual posts will be accurate; if I drink a whole bottle of vino, I will say, I have had 7 units, not 6 like I've been saying. Wow, I feel relieved! Now I just need to borrow one of my niece's doll tea cups and start enjoying my wine in that!

The wonderfully odd thing that has happened now that I've condensed my drinking diary is that I can actually see some progress, whereas before, focusing on each day made me panic and feel doomed. Of course, Dr. Eskapa suggests you chart your progress and he even gives you a nice little sample chart in his book that I could have photocopied, but no, I opted for recording my daily meanderings on drinking, freaking out and ignoring the big picture. Much more amusing.

Before naltrexone: 42-50 units per week • Week 1: 18units • Week 2: 32units • Week: 3: 39units • Week: 4: 49units • Week 5: 32units • Week: 6: 25units • Week 7: 27units • Week 8: 28units • Week 9: 34units, 1 AF day. • Week 10: 42units • Week 11: 44units

Fat Pants

2010-04-21T09:03:00.005-04:00

Day 79 & 80: My pants are tight—good god!—which has everything and nothing to do with my drinking. How long can one sustain a decent figure whilst drinking glass after glass of champagne? This is the question I asked myself on glass 6 of a cheap bottle of Korbel on Day 79. I tried to stop (not really, really) on glass 4 and also on glass 5 (sort of). I probably stopped at 6 because the bottle was empty! Champagne is one of the least caloric alcoholic beverages which is one of the reasons I drink it—a glass of Champagne is 91 calories. But when I drink the entire bottle I'm adding a whopping 540 calories to my booty. Voila—tight pants!

To make myself feel better I dig up happy facts about my delinquent habits (and I can always find them). Recent research says that moderate champagne consumption may help brain cells recover from damage caused by Alzheimer's, Parkinson's and stroke! A 2007 study by the University of Reading and the University of Cagliari revealed that people drinking champagne had higher levels of brain cell restoration after exposure to neurotoxins than those not consuming Champagne! Who sponsored this study? Moët Chandon? Actually, I don't know and I don't care who sponsored it because I love this fabulous information. Of course, the key point here is "moderate champagne consumption" which doesn't mean an entire bottle which brings me to Day 80! After having a little chat with myself about the tight pants dilemma and being inspired by the Reading/Cagliari study, I was able to stop at 4 glasses. I should also mention that I'm back down to 50mg of naltrexone after a few days of exploring 75mg. 50mg is what the average TSM person needs and since 75mg wasn't making any significant difference, I was more than happy to put less medicine into my body.

I hope Day 80— 4 unit day—marks a turning point (I think all TSMers look for this one moment when things turn around). I don't want to get my hopes up, but just maybe, maybe this is it. If not, then I'll probably be buying some bigger pants.

Habits & Triggers

2010-04-19T08:58:00.004-04:00

Day 77 & 78: I'm thinking a lot more about craving vs. habit these days. On day 77, I was totally wrapped up in making a yummy, impressive dinner for a few friends and drinking was the furthest thing from my mind as I soaked the delicate rice paper that would become my spring roll wrappers. I was obsessed with having the mint leaves, which I so carefully handpicked, show through the top after I finished rolling. I was surrounded by a bevy of beautiful rolls, some with a mint leaf prominently displayed, others with a mint leaf peaking out from the side, when a "trigger" occurred—I was suddenly all alone with the booze. Everyone had gone outside to enjoy the Spring weather and there I was, inches away from a refrigerator full of chilled wine for guests.

I'm shamefully, a big sneaker, not the rubber-souled kind, but the sneaky kind. I truly love the sport of it, memories of high school come flooding back, all of which is ridiculous, but it adds an element of excitement to my adult life. So I opened a bottle of wine, poured a glass, and quickly had a few sips before anyone came back in the house. When I realized I had plenty of time before anyone would venture back in, I stood with bottle in hand and glass in the other, finished the petite glass of wine and rapidly poured another and then went back into the kitchen to make the peanut dipping sauce.

I felt smug. No one would know I had a glass of wine already. I'm so clever, I thought....could I be a bigger idiot?. All of this is a game that has played out over many years. I have stories that would either interest you or bore you to tears about how I would sneak liquor. Anyway, dinner was a success and I enjoyed several more glasses of wine in between dipping my lovely, exotic spring rolls in perfectly spiced peanut sauce. My wine consumption came to a grand total of 5 units at which point I was quite giddy and had no need for more. I think my craving level was very, very low until the "sneaky" trigger presented itself and then it shot up like a rocket as the game began!

On Day 78, things were rather uneventful, no triggers that I was aware of just good ol' habit. As I prepared dinner, I drank a few glasses of champagne and enjoyed a few more with dinner and since it was "fun, movie night" with popcorn, I decided to enjoy a few more glasses which I really didn't need, nor did I enjoy. It came to a total of 6 units. My craving level was probably around a 7. Yawn.

I've said this before and I'm going to say it again, so hopefully, maybe it will stick! Once the booze in the house runs out, which will be soon, I am going to impose an alcohol free day and just see what happens. Dr. Eskapa says that you'll often be surprised by how much of your drinking is actually habit and not craving as TSM starts to work its magic. So if I give myself a little window of time without access to alcohol, I just might start seeing that I don't really want it afterall.

Naltrexone + Drinking + Chill = Cure

2010-04-17T07:05:00.004-04:00

Day 75 & 76: I love the humorous and apropos "chill" in the TSM formula so much that I have to repeat it in the title today. Plus, I really, really need to chill! I'm forever impatient and doubting and wondering and wanting to tweak this TSM process and I need to just chill, chill, chill. I will confess this, however, I've introduced good ol' Kudzu. You know, the weed rampantly growing in your backyard that has been transformed into a tablet, tincture, and tea for alcohol cravings. They've been using it in China for years and recently studies in the U.S. have shown promising results. Basically they stuck a bunch of alcoholics in 2 different rooms with fridges full of beer and the Kudzu group drank a lot less than the placebo group. I had read this about a year ago, so I bought a bunch and took it religiously, on its own it was quite ineffective, but I thought maybe, just maybe it would help while I'm on naltrexone. We shall see....

For whatever reason, I decided to hold at 75mg. Maybe it's because I already split a bunch of tablets in half. It doesn't make me loopy and it seems to curb my craving a bit more. I drank 4 units on day 75 and 6 units on day 76. OK, so 6 units is not exactly a petite amount, but my attitude/craving was a bit altered and that makes all the difference to my sanity. Day 76 was a Friday night and I had ample time and energy to add more alcohol to the mix, but I opted not to. It took a little bit of willpower, but not much and of course, this morning, I'm tickled pink that I didn't drink more!

Forget safety. Live where you fear to live. Destroy your reputation. Be notorious. —Rumi

Keep It Simple

2010-04-15T09:07:00.006-04:00

Day 74: Maybe I'm a little too cavalier when it comes to pills, but then this "character flaw" of mine is what probably got me into trouble in the first place—if I wasn't so casual about pill-popping then I probably wouldn't be an alcoholic either. Well, maybe I'm making assumptions and parallels where they shouldn't be made, so I'll stick with the facts. I felt a twee bit like a zombie post 100 mg of naltrexone and I didn't like it, so I dropped down to 75mg last night (drank 4 units) and I'll probably go back to 50mg when I drink again which will probably be tonight, but I'm always open to possibilities!

I also need to stop overloading myself with information and introducing other factors. I was floating around at The My Way Out website which has a bounty of information on curing alcoholism. A lovely lady, and former booze-hound, developed a system to cure her alcoholism and it was so brilliantly successful that she's sharing it with the world. She says: "My Way Out combines new and emerging anti-craving medications, hypnotherapy (with CDs you can play at home), nutritional supplements and a light exercise program." She sells a 4cd hypnotherapy set for only $118 (I'm kidding when I say "only") and the My Way Out combo book/CD set is only $124 and some change (again, I'm kidding about the "only"). She has "Starter Kits" and My Way Out branded Milk Thistle, too! This chick is getting rich off her addiction! Now, I don't fault anyone for making money, money is good, but how much does anyone ever really need in one lifetime? If someone is truly passionate about helping and serving others, in my opinion, you don't charge those kind of prices, period. I do believe all of her components are good advice, but you can get all of them on your own and call it, My Cheap Way Out and save a boatload of money. So, I'm going back to where I started which is where I should have stayed all along with simple, inexpensive, 80% cure rate, The Sinclair Method.

As a wise, cured TSMer pointed out, once again, I must be patient: "Under conditioning theory, clearly we long-timer boozers are going to get cured far less rapidly than the young college kids who have only been boozing for a few years. From what I've seen on the TSM Forum (and I've read every post) you should be thinking 6 to 12 months minimum and personally, I wouldn't even be thinking about messing with the dosage or worrying about the quality of the naltrexone at this point. The fact is, if you look at other drinkers in your camp (daily wine drinkers for nearly 20 years), virtually none of them has had major positive results at three months. So, definitely mix more chill into your formula: naltrexone + drinking + chill = cure."

I don't quite have 20 years of daily drinking under my belt, but I have about 14 years of almost every day drinking and a few 6 month stretches of no drinking. So I think I can safely say I'm in the old-timers club in the drinking world.

I really like the last part: Naltrexone + Drinking + Chill = Cure......another T-shirt!

The Plot Thickens

2010-04-14T09:56:00.006-04:00

Day 72 & 73: In my mountaing despair after drinking yet another full bottle of wine tonight, I decide to Google the s--t out of naltrexone and alcohol for some enlightening information beyond the TSM forum and Dr. Eskapa's book. After stumbling upon and briefly reading over too many articles on Contrave, the new naltrexone/wellbutrin combo diet pill and LDS (low dose naltrexone) for autoimmune disorders, I'm about to shut my laptop when I notice a link that says something about "GABA alcoholic." A term I've never heard, so I clicked on it and there my eyes remained glued for an hour. Apparently 12% of alcoholics are "GABA" alcoholics which kind of makes sense since gaba-ergic drugs like valium and librium are given to help severe alcohol withdrawal. The man leading the way on this new frontier is the dapper French cardiologist, Olivier Ameisen, who's a very brave soul and went public with his great story in The End of My Addiction. It turns out, he's one of those GABA alcoholics and was cured with a drug called, Baclofen. You can read a remarkable excerpt from the book here and watch a brief video: http://abcnews.go.com/GMA/Books/story?id=6636845&page=1

Now, I'm not going to run out and score some Baclofen because I still believe I'm in the 80% opiodergic alcoholic category, but what Dr. Ameisen did for me is make me realize that we are all our own keepers and it's fine to experiment on yourself like a guinea pig! OK, so I'm exagerating a bit, but what I've decided to do is up my dosage of naltrexone like a few TSMers have. I know TSM is a lengthy process and the healing in the brain is largely behind the scenes and myserious, but I just feel like the 50 mg is like popping a Pez candy these days.

Another thing to consider, is that I'm taking a generic and there's a good chance it could have been made in some unregulated factory in India. More and more articles are revealing how our drugs can be tainted, expired, not the correct drug. I'm not that freaked out about all this, but I'm thinking if my 50mg tablets are not the potency they should be, then it wouldn't hurt to bump up my intake as a little insurance, besides up to 300 mg (well documented) is totally safe. I also could crush the tablets which would increase their potency or perhaps even resort to snorting them like strung-out Elizabeth Wurtzel did with her Ritalin, but I think I'll save these more advanced techniques for later and just up my dosage for now.

A few TSMers take 100mg, but I'm going to go to 75mg and see what happens. I will not be surprised if a higher dose turns out to be the magic I've been looking for because I have a hardy constitution (german, yugoslavian, czech) and probably should be somewhere in Russia peeling pototatos and raising yaks in sub-zero weather. Besides, one night, a while ago, I mistakenly took 2 tablets (100mg total), I thought the first pill missed my mouth and got stuck somewhere between my boobs (I was in the line at the grocery store unable to fondle myself freely), so I took a 2nd pill and was fine, a little shaky, but fine.

I'm a bit too excited about taking my new dosage of 75mgs. I'm singing in the kitchen, I'm petting the cat more than usual, I'm not yelling at the beloved husband. I carefully cut a naltrexone in half and then do a kooky thing, I end up taking 100mg and not the 75mg! I've always been a bit of a rebel, but this was quite an unexpected turn. I had the shakes a tiny, tiny bit—it felt like I enjoyed a little too much esspreso. As I predicted, my interest in drinking went down and over the course of 5 hours, I drank 4 units. Probably could have stopped at 2, but I poured 2 more units anyway and drank it slowly through dinner. I was relieved and thrilled, but I'm like a thrice-divorcée, I'm just not that excited about a future date. Yes, it's a relief not to be downing a whole bottle, but the mind is a powerful thing and this could all be placebo effect, but hopefully not. I'll just have to wait and see. Until then, please remember, don't try this at home unless you're a Russian potato peeler like me.

It's Going to Be A Bumpy Ride...Why Do I Keep Forgetting This?

2010-04-12T16:59:00.002-04:00

Day 71: I'm starting to think I should interject a recipe or gossip post from time to time because my daily alcohol consumption report is not very exciting nor is it very encouraging. I went back to a full bottle of wine last night and then topped it off with 1 last unit to ensure feelings of despair the next morning. In my "fragile" state, I contacted Dr. Eskapa for reassurance and he said that everyone is different, but in most cases you'll see a reduction in drinking levels within 3-4 months. So I still have a little ways to go before this magic occurs. I'm going to mentally prepare myself for the 4 month mark, however, so I don't lose my marbles if it doesn't pan out sooner.

I also did something tonight that no self-loving individual would do. I was quite satisfied and finished at 4 units, but I dangled the last 2 units of the bottle in front of me like a carrot—I poured it into a glass and perched it so close I could smell it. It sat for an hour just staring at me and getting warm, and then like a mouse pressing the lever for a peanut, when my magical buzz started to wear off, I guzzled it like a sailor. I then sat there in the dark and wondered why I feel the need to alter my state of consciousness all the time? My junkyard of thoughts started to make me uncomfortable, so like I frequently do, I turned to pothead, Bill Maher, for comfort. He was in the middle of a conversation with fellow pothead, Green Day frontman, Billie Joe Armstrong, and he shared that some of his best ideas have come to him when he smokes weed. And I thought, hey, some of my best ideas have come to me when under the influence of alcohol! So, I guiltlessly uncorked a 2nd bottle of wine and enjoyed one more unit with Bill and Billie. Thank goodness for other substance-abusers or I'd really be toast.

My TSM friend, Ben, recently shared this uplifting piece of advice spoken by Bette Davis—"Fasten your seatbelt. It's going to be a bumpy year!" I think the manufacturers of naltrexone should make this their slogan. At least, I know I plan to make it mine and perhaps even put it on a t-shirt.

Wait a Moment...the Urge Just Might Go Away.

2010-04-11T17:43:00.000-04:00

Day 70: It's days like this that I'm thankful that I no longer live in St. John's Wood, London, right above the friendly, discount wine chain, Oddbins. I'd pop down in my bare feet and buy good French wine for under £4 and partake in liberal wine tastings every Friday night with my mostly out-of-work actor boyfriend. The ease and convenience of this scenario was lovely, but dangerous, so I'm thrilled that currently, the nearest store is at least an uncomfortable stroll away.

I had 4 units of white bordeaux left and it was so yummy and mood-enhacing tonight that I blurted out that I was going to go to the store for another bottle. I mainly did this to see if my husband would offer to go, but he kindly said, "I think you've had enough and you'll be happy if you don't have more." In my pre-naltrexone days, I would have called him every selfish name in the book and threatened mutiny until he'd go to the store, but tonight, I was like a 2 year old screaming for a toy and then 3 minutes later completely occupied with something else. I went on to a cup of hot chocolate and a murder mystery; during the commercial breaks I revelled in my contentment of not needing any more booze to entertain me and keep me happy. I was also thrilled to see how easy it was to let go of the notion of getting more wine. Wait a brief moment and the urge just might go away (note to self—try this more often!).

I know I have months to go on TSM, but I really enjoy being in the less-than-a-bottle-a-night camp.

Giddy is the New Pink!

2010-04-10T09:23:00.003-04:00

Day 69: I'm back on giddy planet, but I won't unpack my bag this time because I know I still have plenty of rides left to go on the TSM rollercoaster. I finished the remaining bottle of champagne (measuring my units like a scientist) which came to 1 and 1/2 units. It was enjoyable, but I didn't drink it like a person who just walked off a desert to a bottle of water. I then had 2 units of white with dinner. I started to guzzle this a little bit because I was enjoying the buzz from the champagne and wanted to keep it going, but as quickly as I started to go for the buzz, I just as quickly stopped. It was like a good samaritan briefly possessed my body and smacked some sense into me and I went back to sipping and actually became a tiny bit disinterested in the wine. I'm starting to think naltrexone is as elusive as the Holy Ghost.

Stepping back and looking in at my situation up ‘til now, I have to say there are so many shades of gray. I felt good today. I got a lot accomplished and chipped away at the ominous book proposal, so I think this impacts how much I feel like drinking and end up drinking. But then, I have felt really, really good plenty of times and proceed to drink way too much. On days that I feel bad, I'm more likely to drink in excess and I think this has been the case on naltrexone, but it was the same pre-naltrexone, too! I feel my mind shifting and my relationship to alcohol morphing then I find myself resisting change and snapping back to safe, old patterns. The brain is a mysterious and stubborn place.

I've taken to staring at my glass of booze and sometimes think if I stare at it long enough it will provide all the answers. These past few days, I stared at it to see how long I could go without picking it up. I know this is a silly game, but with all this subtle stuff going on in my naltrexoned brain, I'm compelled to play games and experiment. I contemplated getting another glass of wine for the remainder of Bladerunner, but I really, really didn't want one. My husband's eyeballs almost fell out when he saw how much wine I had left in the bottle, then proceeded to back-peddle and say, "hey, everything is cool, I'm not judging or noticing." Poor guy, a job in a glue factory would be more pleasant than the "not monitoring" me job.

Needless to say I'm thrilled with these low units, but I'm going to try and remain detached from the outcome because they will bounce around like a rubber ball over the next few months. TSM, I’m finding, is not as linear and as logical as I thought.

Got to Remember it's a Roller Coaster!

2010-04-09T09:01:00.001-04:00

Day 68: You'd think I won the lotto or been invited to Oprah's birthday party, I'm so giddy. But should I really be so giddy? I drank tonight, but what's lighting my firecracker is the fact that I DIDN'T FINISH THE WHOLE BOTTLE! And I actually might not have had anything to drink tonight; as I stared out the window at a robin digging for worms, I contemplated my craving level and thought to myself that if I didn't have alcohol flowing through my veins tonight, I'd be OK, I'd actually be OK.

BUT I started to get a little shaky around 8pm, like I needed a fix (sad), so I ushered my husband off to the store to get me a bottle of bubbly. I enjoyed the first large glass, but stared at the 2nd glass that my husband poured (it was huge! Boy, he really thinks I'm a lush) with indifference. I enjoyed watching the untouched glass and all its dancing bubbles racing to the top and popping. I even thought, hey, I don't have to drink the bloody thing...but I did, eventually. I didn't measure (oops!), but I left about 3 fingers worth in the bottle and that is good enough for me. I feel invincible at the moment which I find hysterical. This certainly is a roller coaster ride.

Ready for the Rubber Room

2010-04-08T14:15:00.003-04:00

Day 67: If it wasn't for some really fabulous, kindred spirits that I met on TheSinclairMethod.com forum, I'd be packing my bag, shutting down this blog, and heading for a rubber room. You see, after multiple nights of polishing off the entire bottle of wine, I thought it couldn't possibly get worse, but it can and it did. Last night I drank the remaining 1/2 bottle of white and a full bottle of champagne (and, no, I wasn't at an awards ceremony or a wine tasting party). This is more than I would usually drink even before naltrexone. Misery and doubt and anger and fear and...well, you get the picture. But before I slipped any further...

...words from the wise and cured TSMers saved my sanity and I'd like to share them with you, just in case you ever find yourself on the brink of misery and fear:

ToxicGirl: I'm enjoying the effects of alcohol a little toooooooo much, so naltrexone must not be working for me...

Wise TSMer: "Naltrexone blocks the endorphin rush in your brain on a subconscious level—this is separate from the buzz. Everyone still enjoys drinking on naltrexone and the alcohol still affects you—but in an altered way. All of 'the cured' still enjoy a drink but we do so as normal drinkers—we don't HAVE to have it and we can easily stop after one or two."

ToxicGirl: I crave alcohol every single day and look forward to it, therefore, TSM is not working for me.

Wise TSMer: "Something happened about two weeks ago. After having my usual weekly evening of drinking (I had about four glasses), I haven't had a craving since. I guess the extinction process has finally reached the tipping point at which I have no further desire for alcohol.....I haven't had a single craving for two weeks now. Yes, the random thought has crossed my mind (wouldn't a glass of wine be nice right now?) but the thoughts have come and gone in an instant. This is FANTASTIC. I actually think I can say I'm cured." (approx. 29 weeks on TSM)

And my new, best TSM buddy graciously reminded me that Dr. Eskapa's book says that we will not be able to really feel the transformation that's taking place within our brain, it is very subtle and happens over a long period of time, and that's part of what makes this process so difficult.

If we can all hold onto the simple formula: Naltrexone + Drinking=Cure and be patient, then we'll all be out of the woods soon and won't need any rubber rooms.

Hating Life EVEN More!

2010-04-07T10:55:00.004-04:00

Day 65 & 66: "When you're in the muck you can only see muck. If you somehow manage to float above it, you still see the muck but you see it from a different perspective."—David Cronenberg

I'm in the muck and it aint pretty, it stinks...My previous daily 5 unit consumption is starting to look quite conservative and very appealing from where I sit right now. I just had another glorious two days of me finishing the whole bottle of wine and there is little that can console me. I'm just trying to "keep it all together" at the moment and not fall further into the pit of despair. My husband is starting to wonder if The Sinclair Method is really a cure or a recipe for disaster and I'm starting to wonder myself.

BUT I have to continually remind myself that even though it feels like I've been doing TSM forever, I'm not even at the 4 month mark where real changes begin to take place for most individuals. In the words of Dr. Eskapa, "it took you a long time to get to where you are and it will take your brain a long time to change." It's human nature to want something right away though...isn't it? I'm the same way about everything, from books to weight loss—when I order a book on Amazon, I expect it to arrive the next day and the minute I decide to drop a few pounds, I assume it should all be off after a week of salads and exercise.

I have a book proposal due at the end of the month and I've been procrastinating and avoiding it like the plague. Suddenly, shopping for a new bathroom rug and watching Kirstie Alley's, Big Life are much more important and timely than outlining chapters and whipping up rough sketches. Alcohol, like shopping, is a brilliant escape as well! Yesterday, I managed to combine all three: I watched Big Life, shopped for benches (I can only look at so many bathroom rugs) and downed a bottle of champagne.

It would be simple and wonderful if naltrexone was the only factor in this game, but it really is a multi-faceted event, I think. I'm counting on my drinking dissipating the minute I put pen to paper and stop surfing Restoration Hardware and Pottery Barn. Naltrexone is magical, but life is life and the highs and lows of it will have a big effect on my drinking level in these early TSM days.

I am committed to this journey and I will continue to believe with almost all my heart that in a few months I will be "cured" and I will be sipping tea instead of champagne at garden parties.

Hating Life at the Moment

2010-04-05T09:28:00.000-04:00

Day 63 & 64: Oh, how I am hating myself and life right now. I know I shouldn't, but I just do, so I'm going to roll with it.

For the first time in weeks, I decide to drink the whole bottle of wine on day 63. My feelings of greed are in full force, I do not want to share my bottle and luckily (luckily?), I don't have to. It's funny, like a bank robber, I have this planned and mapped out in my stubborn head—long before and up to the minute I open the bottle at dinner, I know it won't last long. It's a light, crisp white and it goes down like lemonade on a hot summer day. My craving level is definitely a 10+. Is there anything positive I can grab onto here? Yes! I didn't plot to get more booze which I've been known to do on occasion, the one bottle is enough!

Easter Sunday. Wake up feeling great. No hangover—I chalk this up to milk thistle, lots of water, and luck. After a jolly good afternoon of walking the dog, pruning some bushes, and odds and ends in the house, I decide to start drinking early, around 4:30pm, it is Easter after all! Bypass the Easter egg hunt and straight to the bar! I polish off the remaining bottle of champagne (I don't count units this time, but it's half a bottle) and much to my earnest disappointment, my husband doesn't join me in having a glass. Since I started early, my fuzzy glow wears off around 8pm and I want more, so I have most of a bad bottle of pinot grigio, minus one unit. Needless to say, I'm bewildered and disgusted.

I just spent the last hour on the TSM forum and am haunted by one member in particular, who had great success early on, then his/her drinking increased, then lowered, and then increased again, at which point, he/she pronounced after one year, "still not cured." Of course, this is one person, and the majority of people on the forum are doing swimmingly well, but it's just like me to pick out the one who is doing horribly and think that I'm in the same boat and won't be cured after all! I'm surprisingly calm about all this today, maybe it's because I feel like crap or maybe it is because, no mater what, I'm going to make this naltrexone thing work. Like The Little Engine That Could...I think I can, I think I can, I think I can....

Any Excuse to Celebrate...

2010-04-03T09:52:00.006-04:00

Day 62: I'm not a religious person, but the minute I see chocolate bunnies adorn the shelves of stores I get excited about Easter. I love holidays. I love them for many reasons, but the two main reasons are: 1. They are my excuse to cut loose and 2. Because the general public seems to be in a better mood.

I went out to dinner last night (Good Friday) with my best friend who is down from New York (another reason I love holidays—people travel to visit loved ones) and evidence for #2, my friend is in a great mood. She didn't have to work at her grinding job at the UN on Friday and instead, she drove down with her little kids in tow and spent the day wandering the streets of Washington, D.C. with its blooming cherry blossoms. She was practically singing songs from The Sound of Music when I picked her up for dinner and then proceeded to point out all the blossoming plants we passed as we drove toward the restaurant.

With my friend in town and holiday just around the corner, I decide to deep six my idea of sticking to drinking only what is left in the house...highly unpractical. At a very noisy restaurant, over 2 glasses of unpronounceable white wine, I proceed to tell my friend about The Sinclair Method. I prepare her for the outlandish and she buys it and rejects it all at the same time (oh, how I love her). In the end, she says, "I'm very happy for you and I hope it works." She then rambles forth and tells me about a book—a true story— she just read about a young boy hooked on meth who is probably dead now. She follows this up with a few stories about friends, who smoke cigarettes like chimneys, who have stopped for long periods and then started again. My friend, God bless her, doesn't have the evil serpent of addiction coiled around her neck like so many of us do. She sips a glass of wine and leaves the rest on the table, she eats well, exercises, and plants bulbs in her garden in the spring. She is fascinated and bewildered by addiction and has told me for many years to simply just stop drinking which I respond with, "marvelous idea, let me write that down!"

Dinner out at a restaurant is interesting because I have not done this while on naltrexone. It is quite amusing because, for the first time ever, I think the portion of wine served is huge! It had to be 6 ounces, at least. I don't need a 2nd, but I get one out of habit. I sip it slowly and am more interested in the conversation than the glass (yahoo!). My friend and I make plans to go on a long dog walk tomorrow and then part ways. Then, unfortunately, something very typical happens....

...on my drive home, I think about stopping for something bubbly and yummy. I don't feel any great need for anything else, I feel happy and satisfied, but find myself driving to Whole Foods anyway. All fellow shoppers are in a festive mood and wheeling bottles of champagne and pretty flowers around in their carts. I'm glad I stopped. I buy a bottle of white wine, a bottle of champagne, and a white chocolate bunny wrapped in cellophane, tied with a ribbon. As I drive home, I enjoy recalling the memory of my very first white chocolate bunny when I was about 4 years old. My Yugoslavian grandmother, who lived with us, gave me a Russell Stover version. When I sucked on its ears, I couldn't believe how marvelous it tasted and it made me love my grandma even more for introducing me to such magic.

I get home around 10pm and in typical style my husband is just about to have dinner and feed our dog. I just roll my eyes at this late night folly, who am I to criticize though? I'm about to drink more and eat a chocolate bunny! I finish off the bottle of white, the one that was supposed to be ALL that I drank tonight, and it made me feel all relaxed and happy. I bite the ears off the bunny and pour a glass of champagne for both me and my husband. I don't need this glass of champagne, nor do I really want it, but I'm being stubborn and forge ahead like an idiot. I give myself a wicked stomache ache and go to bed in agony....and angry. So much for cutting loose and being festive.

I have to thank all the wise TSMers who have been graciously taking time out of their busy day to leave comments on these posts—they keep me sane and calm my nerves. I cannot thank you enough!

Five Again! But Forgetting it's There...

2010-04-02T09:36:00.000-04:00

Day 60 & 61: The only thing exciting about the last 2 days is the fact that I've FINALLY hit the 2 month mark! And as I wait for the sugar cubes to dissolve in my black organic coffee this morning, my mind is darting around trying to come up with something meaningful to say, after all, this is The Adventures of ToxicGirl, right? Well, the only adventures in this life lately are: I moved some furniture around, so my bedroom doesn't look like a furniture gallery and I defended Dr. Roy Eskapa's book on Amazon.com. A few belligerent individuals gave his book a 1 star rating and poo-pooed The Sinclair Method. Neither of these "reviewers" have read the book and they are simply on a mission to slam something. I've been on the receiving end of this abusive criticism, often, with my own work, so I rode in like the cavalry and responded to these damaging comments. The Sinclair Method works, but for some reason it instills fear in AAers and other straight-laced individuals.

I'm quite confident that my 5 units will dwindle over the next few months and will dwindle even more after that. Speaking of which, I had 5 units again the last 2 nights. I almost had 4 last night, but I woke up to a particularly loud scene on the telly and my bubbly glass of champagne was beckoning me, so I drank it. I also have to add, that I keep forgetting about my drink—not long enought to not drink it, but long enough to make me think, wow, I forgot my drink! I'll leave it in the kitchen or eat almost my entire dinner and realize I have a glass sitting on the table, and in my pre-naltrexone days, I could tell you the exact location of my glass and how much was in it like a homing pingeon.

I keep exhausting my booze inventory, vow not drink, and then pick up a bottle of wine at the store and proceed to drink...talk about a seesaw! Anyway, I'm announcing it again, like a broken record, I have about 2 units of white left in the house and I'm going to see if I can stick with that tonight. Progress, not perfection, right? Wish me luck!

Five Units, not Four, not Three, But Five...

2010-03-31T14:15:00.004-04:00

Day 58 & 59: The magic number seems to be 5. Five units last night and five units the night before last. I'm once again, in a house with no booze and at 10 a.m., as I write this post, I'm quite pleased with this fait accompli, but when 5 p.m. rolls around, I may feel very differently.

All I can do every, well, almost every day, is try—try and be better and do better because I know I will feel better and all aspects of life, from brushing my teeth to watching my bank balance go down, will improve! It all seems so simple, yet very hard to put into practice. Life is too soft and privileged for me at times and I really should be drop-shipped into the middle of Afghanistan, get outside of my self-indulgent addiction, and occupy this brain of mine with the greater good of mankind. Maybe tomorrow....

I've started to read another Julia Child book. This time, My Life in France, where Julia bluntly shares that she might have ended up an alcoholic like many of her friends, had she remained in dull, unchallenging Pasadena (Julia said this, not me, I happen to love Pasadena) and not gotten whisked away to Paris by her intellectual, cultured new husband, Paul Child. I don't live in Pasadena and my life certainly isn't dull, but somehow I became an alcoholic and I hope naltrexone is going to change this status very soon.

The big, exciting changes—not finishing the entire bottle of wine, not feeling greedy and gladly sharing the booze, and not being preoccupied with alcholol to the exclusion of most other things—are wonderful, but they're losing their "newness" appeal and I want them to start sharing the stage with alcohol free days and less than 5 unit days.

OK, OK, so I'm still in the early stages of TSM and since I have not been drop-shipped into Afghanistan yet, I'm going to continue to whine and complain. Sorry.

Thank Goodness for Forgotten Bottles of Liqueur

2010-03-29T09:54:00.002-04:00

Day 57: Another glorious sleepover at mumsy's peaceful house—the motivation for these sleepovers intensify as the weather warms because there is a large stream behind her house that my dog loves to romp around in for hours.

Having finished up all the booze in my house like a champ, me, my husband, and the dog head off to mom's house sans any bottle. I'm tired from the previous night of husband and dog snoring in unison and I'm thinking it would be nice to have a glass of wine. I'm barely at my mom's for 30 minutes when I blurt this question out like an embarrassed teenager, "MOM, do you have any wine!?" Innocent as a lamb, she responds with regret, "no sweetheart, I don't." My mom is the overly generous and kind type and despite my addiction, she'd offer me all the booze in the house if she had it. At one point though, years ago, she bought some useless book on addiction and decided to solve my problem by locking up the liquor cabinet with a flimsy, fake brass lock. Bypassing any and all earnest searches for the key to this lock, I simply would unscrew the entire thing off the door, drink whatever tickled my fancy, screw it back on when finished, and replace the consumed when time permitted. I share all of this with you very mater-of-fact, but the truth is, at the time, it riddled me with guilt and shame and I still wince when I see the drill holes marring the cabinet door that the liquor lock once occupied.

Lucky for me, I left the remaining bottle of a red at mom's house a few weeks back, so I take my naltrexone and begin to watch the clock like a rabid dog. I cannot wait the full hour and dive into the bottle after 38 minutes, wondering what this might set me back in TSM-terms? Who cares! This is clearly enough wine for any sane individual, but for me, tonight, it is simply not enough, so I dig around in the back of the bar fridge and find the nearly forgotten bottle of pomegranate liqueur—score! I'm excited and also glad my husband and mom are engrossed in a murder mystery on the telly upstairs, so I can help myself to this liquid gold without interruption. I often think, I will miss this part of my addiction—the sneaking bit—it brings back fond memories of playing hooky in school, fooling the teachers and parents. I've always had a mischievous streak in me and I guess I'm "addicted" to this, too. Jokes on me though because as a tax-paying, homeowner, I don't have to sneak anything! I can smoke crack or sniff glue if I want to—no sneaking required—I'm a big, boring adult after all, allowed to make the dumbest decisions I can come up with. I'm fortunate that I've never really felt the desire to add to my bag of bad habits, however, liquor is my poison of choice...thank goodness.

There is only a soupçon left in the thick-walled glass container of syrupy liquor. I don't measure, but I would guess it adds up to 3 units. So I weigh in tonight at a wapping 5 units; I have very little observation to add to these hefty numbers other than, I look forward to them going down.

Progress Can Be Very Subtle

2010-03-27T16:46:00.001-04:00

Day 56: OK, so I didn't throw out the little bit of wine left in the house like I said I was going to, but at the time the gesture was most sincere.

I find myself at Target passed my Dr. Jekyll hour (5pm and futile to try and change the rules for the evening) where I'm buying a tension curtain rod for my home office and—thank goodness someone at corporate green-lighted liquor—because Target has a painfully decent selection. I buy a bottle of G.H. Mumm champagne and bung it into the freezer the second I get home. My hubby and I walk our rambunctious dog and I cannot wait for her to finish sniffing pee laced bushes so I can get home and have a chilled glass of champagne. I pour only one unit and drink it relatively slowly. Fast forward to 10pm: 4 units of champagne down my gullet, hubby has the rest of the bottle of champagne (thank goodness) and I drink the tiny bit of red and white left in the house. I drink it straight from the bottles in the kitchen, in the dark—no need for ambiance for this lass. I estimate that this mish-mosh of wine came to 1 1/2 units. Satisfied with the zing in my step, we take a quiet stroll with our dog in the crisp air, and as we navigate the streets with sidewalks, I wonder again for the millionth time, WHY AM I LIKE THIS?

One good thing about being in the dark is that I know the light will inevitably come and I-just-need-to-be-patient!!!

One Day I'll Be Able to Go Outside and Play with the Big Kids

2010-03-26T10:26:00.001-04:00

Day 55: Busy work day and the pressure is on to put a book proposal together by April 28th. Pop a naltrexone in the car with the remaining, questionable water sitting in my cup holder. Driving home, I think, it's been a good day, life is good, I don't feel stressed, how much will I drink? I feel like drinking tonight (craving level 8?) and I'm glad both bottles of white are open because it's late (9pm-ish), I hate dealing with corks, and I simply have to measure out 4 ounces and pour, yeah!

What is wrong with me? Decked out in the stiff orange apron with red piping and buttons (clearly inspired by Doris Day) my mom gave me for Christmas, I barely finish slicing a leak and I'm on unit 2! My husband bellows from the couch that he'd like a root beer with dinner. A root bear? HOW does he do it? What's his secret? How can he choose a syrupy kid's drink over a magic elixir? I envy his constitution and curse him at the same time as I pour his Blue Sky root beer over a mountain of ice in his favorite glass—a Tiki mug from Disney World.

I drink so fast tonight that I have to stop ever so briefly and tally up the drinks, lest I forget and post inaccurately on this blog—a Cardinal no-no in my book. It comes to 5 units, perhaps a dash more because if you can believe this, I poured a wee bit over the 4 ounce mark on one of my drinks in an attempt to fool myself...oh, how sad. But wait! It gets even sadder! Last night we watched a documentary on obesity in the U.S. which inspired me to throw the rest of the candy away that was sitting on the table only to retrieve some of it out of the trash tonight. Luckily the candy is individually sealed so it didn't have any garbage dregs on it, but still...so sad. I dig around to find the good stuff—Snickers, more Snickers, Twix—I eat a few, even my innocent husband eats a few (he didn't know it came from the trash) and then I throw it all away again—thoroughly disgusted with myself—as if I need to point this out.

Believe it or not, I'm really, really tired of drinking so much and I've decided to break my "no willpower" rule and impose some willpower tomorrow, so I pour out the remaining wine and plan to not drink tomorrow night. This is going to be interesting.

Craving Vs. Habit

2010-03-25T10:34:00.002-04:00

Day 54: I give this topic a good 20 minutes of my undivided attention tonight because that's how long it takes me to get from my office to my little house and the words of a wise TSMer (cured in 35 weeks) quickly come to mind—you will continue to drink out of habit even when the cravings are gone.

It's late. I'm hungry. I kiss no one upon entering the house and head straight for the kitchen. As I rapidly chop up carrots and almost my finger, in preparation for dinner, I notice that I don't have that tense, gnawing feeling that makes me need a drink. I have 2 bottles of white in the house and a decent amount of red somewhere on my counter, where it looks like a bomb went off. But I reach for a bottle anyway, like a mechanical doll, and pour my little 4 ounce glass. As I gulp/sip it and get irritated by its diminutive size, I remind myself that this Alice in Wonderland tiny portion should be even smaller because the alcohol content of this white Bordeaux is 13% and Dr. Eskapa says in his book (The Cure for Alcoholism) that 1 unit of wine (10% alcohol) is 4 ounces. But I simply ignored this simple fact written very clearly in English because I just couldn't handle it and made a mental note that it was absurd, like pouring tea into a cup missing its bottom. Has anyone seen a bottle (a good bottle) of wine that is 10% alcohol? If you are a fan of spumante then you are probably in luck because I think they weigh in at this modest alcohol content.

Anyway, tonight, my physical craving for alcohol is significantly lower than my normal craving level/pre-naltrexone days. But even though I'm not feeling iritable and phyiscally needing a glass of wine, I have one laser beam goal and that is to get tipsy and check out a bit, so I can forget the heavy burden of troubles we all seem to carry and just dance under the stars for a bit. I'm puzzled (this would be a good time to have Carl Jung on speed dial, so I could get some answers), if my physical craving for alcohol goes away will my mental desire for the calming effects of alcohol diminish too?

Over the past 50 plus naltrexone days, I've had days where I have wine with dinner like a civilized person without the goal of getting a buzz, but when emotions run high, I'm still looking for that escape hatch into la-la land. OK, naltrexone is not a magic pill, but it's as near to magic as I'm going to get, but I still need to do other work. If I want to be in la-la land sometimes then I'm going to have to get there on the sober bus. I just need to find the bus station!

I'm in a muddle and since channeling Jung is out, I'm going to reread some of Dr. Eskapa's pages and cruise over to the TSM forum for a bit. I had 4 units of white tonight and proceeded to get the gift of a nice headache.

Old Habits Die Hard

2010-03-24T09:47:00.001-04:00

Day 52 & 53: Five units seems to be the amount du jour. I'm watching my cat eat her breakfast this cool, sunny morning and I wonder why she is only satisfied with water? If I introduced alcohol to her diet like Dr. David Sinclair did with his rats would she enjoy it? Silly thoughts, back to me! Day 52, I was feeling blue, so I thought champagne would pick me up and it did! It picked me up so much that I wanted to finish the bottle as I sat on the floor hemming my new curtains. So I unabashadly poured the rest of the bottle into a glass for myself and then it proceeded to sit there for an hour as I worked out a difficult part of my curtains (lucky for me that I'm really bad at sewing and was so engrossed in it!). Because my husband, from the corner of the couch, surmised, "a glass of champagne sounds nice." I casually said, "sure," like I had ample left in the bottle in the kitchen (why must I put on these charades?) and slipped my, now warmed, glass of champagne into the freezer for about 15 minutes. I then poured it into a new glass and served it like a queen to my hubby! I privately thanked him for rescuing me from drinking the whole bloomin' bottle. And Day 53 was almost a repeat performance, only I openly shared a bottle of champagne with my husband, no charades—thank goodness. I would have had less units this night, but I added a glass of red wine with dinner and that doggedly kept me at 5 units. Based on what I've been reading at the TSM forum, I'm not even going to start panicking for another 4 months or so, according to them, I'm a newbie and this TSMing takes time. I have not even cleared 2 months—baby stage! I'm glad I'm taking milk thistle.

Thank Goodness for Milk Thistle

2010-03-22T09:49:00.004-04:00

Day 51: Did you know that the liver is the only internal organ that actually regenerates itself a significant amount? We must thank our lucky stars for this fact because the liver is responsible for breaking down and neutralizing toxins that make their way into our bodies like....alcohol! It should be no surprise that the alcoholic can put their liver through a rigorous workout quite often.

The good news is that even a damaged liver has the incredible ability to regenerate itself and even better news, herbs can heal a damaged liver and protect it from further demise. There are quite a few excellent helpers out there, from dandelion to chamomile, but the superstar (and my personal favorite) is milk thistle. Also, the antioxidants in milk thistle are some of the most potent liver-protecting substances known (antioxidants prevent cell destruction and damage caused by the harmful compounds known as free radicals. For more enlightening information on herbs & the liver visit: http://www.mothernature.com.

Why am I telling you about milk thistle? Because I went back to 5 units of wine tonight and one of the few weapons I have to counter this indulgence is my milk thistle which I keep right next to my bed. I take it no matter how much I drink because it is an excellent overall herb to take, but when I do overindulge, I take more than the suggested dosage which is probably meant for the granola crowd, not for the bar flys like me.

I'm done trying to analyze the whys and hows of my drinking levels (at least for the moment) because it just seems to happen for no particular reason. I had a very pleasant day—long dog walk, communing with nature, quality time with mumsy and then dinner time rolls around and I finish the bottle of white (2.5 units) which is waaaay too cold and then drink red with dinner (2.5 units) and proceed to get a wicked headache at which point I think perhaps another glass of wine might help. Hah! Luckily I come to whatever senses I have left in my brain and choose a glass of water and a midnight dog walk instead. I then proceed to stay up until 3 a.m reading and contemplating the existence of God which I often do in the wee hours of the morning. Julia Child was an enthusiastic atheist according to the book I finished tonight and I think how sad to not even be open to the possibilites of this vast mysterious universe. Afterall, we are all going to eventually find out.

I have 3 units left of the headace inducing red, so I cannot wait to see what happens tomorrow (false enthusiasm is sometimes necessary).

The Somewhat Spontaneous Big Experiment

2010-03-21T12:06:00.005-04:00

Day 50: AS anyone that has been following my soporific, self-involved blog will know, I made a promise to myself when I started TSM to NOT impose any real discipline on my drinking so I could really see if this method takes no willpower. Tonight I head over to my mom's house for one, in a long line of many, movie night sleepovers. I'm very fortunate to have a really cool mom and not a tedious and overbearing one like some do, so these movie nights are often filled with laughter and fun.

I packed up my little sleepover bag and consciously leave behind all booze in the house. I am really curious how I will react being without my security blanket for a night. This is actually not entirely accurate because, if desperate and ready to drive to the nearby 7-11 in my PJs for a bottle, I know my mom has a snappy pomegranate liquor shoved in the back of her bar refrigerator that I could liberally help myself to. But surprisingly this does not happen—I check in with myself like an ICU nurse (often) and find that I'm not only content without a drink in hand, but happy. I enjoy dinner with some San Pellegrino sparkling water and watch a double feature with popcorn, more water, and a 100 calorie fudge bar (my mother is obsessed with these and has not been without them in her freezer for over 10 years--she'll even keep the ones that have partially melted when the electricity has gone on the fritz after a storm...and they are not that good!).

I hear a symphony of celebration in my head and I want others to notice. I want to shout out—"Hey, mom look at me, I'm not drinking! Honey-bun, your wife is drinking W-A-T-E-R. Doggy-sweets, stop licking your butt and notice mommy isn't breathing stinky boozey breath in your face tonight! BUT no one notices and I don't point it out, I celebrate my victory in silence and that is OK.

My last check-in with myself is around 1a.m when I had a mini-panic that I might not be able to get to sleep without the eventual tiredness that wine always brings over me. I also forget to bum an Ambien off my mom, so I may just be staring at the ceiling for a few hours which would often bring me into the kitchen for a tipple. But I miraculously fall asleep. This is shocking and amazing from both ends of the spectrum—shocking that I was able to not drink tonight with ease and equally shocking that I have not had a booze free days since the Battle of Waterloo in 1815. OK, so I exaggerate, but it definitely feels like that. WHAT will happen tomorrow? I'll be back at my house where I have easy access to tasty wine?? Again, I will impose no discipline and just let it flow and see what happens. This is getting exciting!

Repeat Performance

2010-03-20T10:39:00.001-04:00

Day 49: Congratulations! Another 5 glasses of wine tonight and for no particular reason that I'm aware of other than, I'm alive and able to put a glass to my mouth. The birds are singing, the crocuses are popping up through winter's brush and I'm welcoming Spring with a slight hangover. Yikes, I hope the people over at Sober Village don't read this post, they will surely think I'm failing. Sometimes I think I'm failing too and I'll just have to get comfortable with this because I don't think it will go away for a very, very, very long time.

I feel dull lately, too. Does anyone out there just feel dull? I plow through the "to do" list, I work, I eat, I walk the dog, I yell at my husband, I watch the telly and its blanketed with dullness. I wonder if this has anything to do with naltrexone? It probably has more to do with the 5 glasses of wine and tonight I even mix 2 different whites to make a full 4 ounce glass of wine—gross! Of course when I guzzle and don't sip who cares if I'm blending?

I'm going to start using my mini-trampoline and see if this helps de-dull me. My husband gave me one of these a few years ago after I read a bunch of articles, written by doctors to pro-wrestlers, about the amazing benefits of bouncing and the trampoline deal clincher for me was the fact that you only need to bounce for 10 minutes a day! Say good bye to 90 minute gym workouts (for someone like me who hates to workout and whose favorite yoga pose is corpse, this is a plus). It's funny, the trampoline is a good metaphor for life too—up, down, up, down, up, down, up...

Even though I love my mini and bouncing, for the past few months it has become my cats therapeutic sleeping station, but I've made up my mind, I'm going to vacuum the cat hair off today and start bouncing. Please feel free to download and print my Bouncing flash card! And maybe we'll be bouncing together!

It is Indeed a Roller Coaster Ride

2010-03-19T11:12:00.001-04:00

Day 48: I'm sitting on my couch in my pajamas, nestled under a quilt my Great Grandmother made for me when I was a little girl and I'm feeling like the one-hit-wonder actress, Mira Sorvino, who won an Oscar for her performance in Woody Allen's 1995 movie, Mighty Aphrodite. After this huge accomplishment she essentially slipped into oblivion for a long time; and that is exactly what happened to my "2 glasses of wine" achievement last night...it slipped into oblivion and was upstaged by a rapid succession of 5 glasses of wine tonight. Thank goodness I have my new found posse of friends over at the TheSinclairMethod.Com forum because my usual reaction of panic has been tempered into a much tamer and managable aware state that TSM is a roller coaster ride with twists and turns and I must be patient and trust that low alcohol consumption, alcohol free days, and possibly teetotalling will be awaiting me around the bend. Having said all that I know I will wake up tired tomorrow, oh, well, maybe I'll just stay under the quilt in my pajamas all day.

Spread The Sinclair Method and Help Others

2010-03-18T19:28:00.002-04:00

My new, good buddy Ben (I hope I can call him that?) from TSM-land shared this really cool informative TSM brochure with me and now I'm sharing it with you! Please print it out and give it to anyone struggling with alcohol. And if you are so inclined, leave copies near the gin bottles at the liquor store, at your favorite bar, psychiatrists' offices, AA meetings, and of course wedge it between the pages of any Gideon Bible that you happen to come across in a hotel room.

Nuts Don't Only Grow on Trees!

2010-03-18T14:37:00.001-04:00

Day 47: I've been hanging out at the really groovy forum: TheSinclairMethod.com for the past few days and if you have not perused it, then I strongly urge you to do so—great advice, companionship, progress, and guest appearances from the man himself, Roy Eskapa, Ph.D. It is amazing what a stark contrast it is to the people at The Sober Village forum. I made the mistake of jumping into this forum with glee and an open heart, excited to share the miraculous TSM only to be instantly flagged by a person called "Velvet" (her avatar is a photo of a tip of a very sharp pencil—mere millimeters away from the iris of a glowing green eyeball—just to give you a little window into this person's psyche). This is only a tidbit of what she said to me after my jubilant post about TSM:
"About the Sinclair method. It has been around since the mid 70s. Similar to methadone and we pretty much know where methadone leads us once we decrease our dosage....right back to using. The Sinclair method might work if you're willing to take a pill once a day and continue to drink, hoping that it will work for you."

What is it about 12 steppers and other sober cheerleaders that makes them feel entitled to hold the title, "Keeper of All Truths and Knowledge." There are many paths that lead to sobriety, so I jumped ship, said goodbye to Velveeta and the rest of the Sober Village gang and I will continue to post and peruse with a saner bunch over at TSM.com.

Wine is the furthest thing from my mind tonight as I feverishly research Google's Adsense, until the husband rings from the grocery store and asks if I need anything. I laugh out loud with joy because HE not I is bringing up booze, however, in the same breath I graciously ask that he bring home a nice bottle of white and some toilet paper. He brings home red, white, chips, and god-awful Charmin. I'm a greenie and always buy the environmental toilet tissue. The inferior TP is quickly eclipsed by my drinking record, however, ONLY 2 units tonight! I try to remain calm and composed because I'm not out of the woods yet and I know this is a rollercoaster ride for sure, but I'm still thrilled! I briefly ponder the idea of descending upon The Sober Village and letting Velveeta know that I'm going to prove her wrong, but luckily I come to my senses and don't follow through. If there is one thing I've learned in life, it's that you can never get through thick heads like that, they will always think they are right. "In the beginner’s mind there are many possibilities, in the expert’s there are few." – Shunryu —Suzuki-roshi

Soup and the Last of the Booze

2010-03-17T15:33:00.004-04:00

Day 46: I'm starting to feel like the days are all blending into each other and I'm on my tippy-toes peering into the future looking for that one single day when I have absolutely no desire to reach for a glass of wine or bubbly. We are also eating soup every single night which only magnifies the Groundhog Day movie monotony of my life at the moment; my husband and I will do this from time to time, we'll discover a satisfying and yummy dinner and we'll eat if over and over and over again. And this time it is soup! Since I'm reading Julia Child's biography I cannot help but wonder if she would be offended by this behavior? On the one hand, she was a very pragmatic lady and wanted her recipes to be accessible to the American housewife, so she experimented with pre-made pie crusts (surprisingly good) and canned goods (she put her foot down when it came to canned onions—the worst!), so the busy housewife could substitute when necessary.

On the other hand, she was a mountain climber, not a saunterer, in the kitchen and revelled in tediously long and ingredient-filled recipes. So, I think Julia would partially approve of my soups because I use mostly fresh ingredients from broccoli to cabbage and I mix it up, last night we had a carroty-gingery soup and the night before that a broccoli-ish one, but I do use bouillon cubes and frozen peas...I don't think I've ever seen a fresh pea? To make the soup seem less naked, I lay a thinly sliced piece of toasted peasant bread on top. It is quite satisfying. And what makes it heaven for me is how quick it is to make. I can sloppily cut up all of my ingredients and bung them into a pot because at the end of cooking, the oddly shaped, tangled mess gets thrown into a blender and transforms into a fine puréed soup which is very French (I can hear Julia applauding me from heaven).

But I digress....my husband has jumped on the sauce wagon lately, so we share the remaining bottle of white Bordeaux tonight. It comes to 2 units each and then I have a glass of red with dinner. And the good news, I've exhausted my inventory; I'm out of wine, champagne, everything and my husband has no beer in the house either, so I'm very interested to see what will happen tomorrow night. Will I go out and get a bottle of wine or will I effortlessly exclude wine from my menu? I hope it is the latter; my liver needs a break. Plus I'm looking really forward to having those super sensitive opiate receptors on the days I don't take naltrexone and do as Dr. Eskapa suggests and do all sorts of positive endorphen activities so they begin to get reinforced.

Candy Land

2010-03-16T10:03:00.002-04:00

Day 45: 5 drinks and enough Easter candy to put a small child in a coma—there, I said it, I put it all out on the table right away and I feel a bit relieved. What happened tonight? What caused this turn of events? At times like this I wish I could manifest Carl Jung, he'd be able to clear things up for me and probably even give me a few positive pointers to clean up my act. Everything depends on one's perspective too—the old me would think nothing of this amount of alcohol mainly because this would translate into 2 drinks in my glass, not the carefully measured 5 units of 4 ounces of wine. The only factor that was different tonight that I'm consciously aware of...to continue click "read more" under photo
is that my husband was enjoying quite a few beers tonight which he never does, but we were watching a marathon of sci-fi flicks and that always puts him in a rowdy mood. I guess the most disturbing thing is that I wanted the five drinks, every single one of them. Now, if my cat just died, I could see needing the extra security blanket to numb the pain of the tragedy, but today was like any other day--joyful, fun, dog walks, soup for dinner, wrote to my aunt...Luckily, I have a stash of Dr. Eskapa's words floating in my head, so I'm not overly panicked—the Sinclair method takes 3-4 months, it has cured 80% of the alcoholics treated with it, and varied imbibing along the way is normal.

And the sugar....I know I sound like a broken record about my experiment of extinguishing sugar—should I try? should I not? should I try? should I not? I honestly cannot see myself eating sugary chocolate like Dr. Eskapa's friend for 6 weeks to extinguish the sugar habit (although tonight you'd think this would be easy for me). I ate so many little peanut butter eggs and mini Twix and Kit Kats and colorful malt balls tonight that it's a blur of unquantifiable proportions. In an attempt to save myself a little bit, I took a long dog walk around midnight. It was a lovely night with a strong moon and a sweetness in the air letting me know Spring is coming. On my walk, I tried so hard to figure out why I ate and drank like a Roman tonight, but nothing came to mind. I guess I'll accept the mystery for now. Life is afterall full of unexplainable things and I think I should just roll with it and move on.

I leave you with this: "When we must deal with problems, we instinctively resist trying the way that leads through obscurity and darkness. We wish to hear only of unequivocal results, and completely forget that these results can only be brought about when we have ventured into and emerged again from the darkness. But to penetrate the darkness we must summon all the powers of enlightenment that consciousness can offer; as I have already said, we must even indulge in speculations..."—Carl Jung on the Stages of Life

Anger is a Good Thing

2010-03-15T17:41:00.008-04:00

Anger—An important emotion that many people feel is wrong to express, but like Freud warns, if you muffle your feelings they will manifest in other ways, possibly develop into a neurosis. I've never had a problem with my anger and that actually has been a problem my whole life. I have such a small problem with it that I've logged a lot of hours dwelling in this agitated state, often not even knowing why, and arguing about nothing of great importance with whomever happens to be in the vicinity . If there was ever a time for me to believe in past lives this would be it for me because maybe I'm carrying anger over many lifetimes? Maybe someone stole my man or my loaf of bread on the Serengeti 500 years ago and I'm still mad about it?.... to continue click "read more" under photo

"Anger is good as long as it is shared constructively," said many a balding therapist to me—what's the fun in that I thought? OK, so the bald therapists are very, very right, but I cannot always be so very, very good. Luckily I've come around a lot and I don't pop off so much anymore, but today I wanted to really badly, but I kept myself in check and strapped in like a baby in a car seat.

While at lunch, I gave a copy of The Cure for Alcoholism to a good friend of mine to give to her alcoholic husband (I'm planning on giving this book out like candy to anyone who needs it). She said she would be very interested in reading it herself, but wasn't too keen on passing it along to her husband (52 alarms went off in my head and all I could think about was, he needs this book NOW and not waste one more day in the torture chamber!). She let it be known that she's washed her hands of his alcoholism and it's his to deal with. I simply ached for this man, but I also ached for her too. I then ached for me! Because after I fell off the wagon my family largely chose to ignore my drinking problem and pretend it didn't exist, but it's hard for our non-addicted loved ones, it's a fine line that they walk and they are often damned if they do and damned if they don't. I'm also acutely aware of the fact that IT ISN'T ALL ABOUT ME! I guess, I just wanted my friend to say she'd give the book to her beloved husband and let him know she's there for him and maybe even read the book together while sipping herbal tea. But what do I know? I'm just trying to figure all this life stuff out myself.

I'm looking forward to some non drinking days, but don't feel like introducing any yet. I have 3 units of red wine this evening and a generous portion of Easter candy—I think I'll throw the rest away tomorrow, well, maybe not the Cadbury chocolate bird eggs with the cute speckles.

Shame Spiral

2010-03-14T14:06:00.009-04:00

Day 43: Ernest Hemingway was a self-professed alcoholic and the famous military genius and strategist Alexander the Great publicly acknowledged his alcoholism, in fact, he was one of the first to go out on a limb and announce it to the world (bravo Alexander! Pity you died at 32, if only they had naltrexone in 330 BC). I have to dig up strong, successful alcoholics from time to time because, in the words of Stewart Smalley, I can often find myself in a "shame spiral." I don't know if this happens to you, but I feel ashamed of this disease sometimes and others in my life can do a good job adding to the burden of my shame....to continue click "read more" under photo
I also struggle with this blog because I'm a very private person and here I am babbling on about my problem for all the world to see, what will my in-laws think? My enemies could even hurt me! I'm like a turtle who gets stuck on her back, flapping her little claws around—a very vulnerable place—and anyone could take a poke and spin me around. What enemy wouldn't revel in that?

Strangers can be cruel too. I see it all the time online now, people hide behind their computer and blast off the nastiest things to people. I watched a youtube video of a guy demoing how to carve with a knife recently and the very first comment that someone wrote was that the carver's thumb looked like a man's p_ _ _ _! What is the point of that? I'm quite concerned that in-laws to enemies will have to know about my struggles with alcohol and I can only hope they will take pity on me like I take pity on Alexander the Great. Oh, shame, shame, shame, sometimes it is so thick and heavy it ways me down like a wet army blanket. So dual worries in my head at the moment—shame about this disease and panic that I will be too exposed.

3 units today. Craving level: 6? This craving level thing really gets to me, I just am not sure what number to put. Am I that out of touch? How much am I really craving alcohol every night? I guess if I don't put a number on it and just think in terms of my feelings, then I can think more clearly. I'm at a point where I enjoy some wine at night, but don't feel desperate for it and I actually forget it's on the table from time to time. But take away my access to the wine, my security, and I may just feel a bit uncomfortable, launching my craving into the higher end of the scale.

As I had mentioned earlier, my greed in keeping the alcohol all to myself has completely vanished. Tonight my husband wants to join me and have a glass of wine while we peruse widgets for blogs on my computer, how romantic. I measure 2 units for each of us (I'm sorry, but this truly looks like one glass of wine to me and I think it always will). My husband finishes his first and asks if he can have more and I gladly hand over the bottle and tell him to finish it. I do have a bottle of red in the house still, so I have a glass with dinner and then literally stuff my face with chocolate. Earlier today, I went to Target and bought one of those ingenious yet hellish bags of Easter candy that has a variety in it—Cadbury chocolate eggs, Milky Ways, Snickers, Twix even my husband was mesmerized; the little packages are all such pretty Easter colors. I can only hope this sugar extinction works because I've never bought junk so freely and eaten it with such abandon. I am still not sure if I can keep up with eating candy every night in order to extinguish my sugar habit? Don't I keep asking the same question, yet continue to eat chocolate?

I have to dutifully report that I did not have any desire to drink more after the glass of red with dinner and my thoughts never even grazed over the idea. I am so blessed and if Dr. Eskapa ever comes to town, I'm taking him to dinner!

When Will I Not Want a Drink?

2010-03-13T09:23:00.009-05:00

Day 42: Having left the remaining bottle of red at my mom's to impress her with my progress, I stop by a warehouse size wine store (one of the many things I loathe about the U.S.—we supersize everything and we are all getting supersized butts to match). But it's convenient to my office, so I pop in and buy 3 bottles of wine. I've graduated from buying 2 and I'm not the slightest bit worried about having an abundance of alcohol in the house anymore (I doubt my joy and amazement surrounding this miracle will ever subside). It's exhausting buying wine every day not to mention expensive, so it's nice to load up a bit and I'm delighted that a bottle lasts me three nights, not one—my daily cost of wine consumption has gone from $15 a day to $5 which makes a huge difference for...to continue click "read more" under photo
someone who has a seriously low bank balance. My husband is wandering around the cavernous beer section of this monstrous warehouse (I have to call him on his cell to find out where he is) and picks up a few of his favorite beers without any fear of them being consumed by me. It is a relaxing and pleasant experience at the mega-store.

I had taken my naltrexone at the office, so by the time we get home I can have a drink, but I exercise patience and chill the white bordeaux in the freezer while I make dinner. As I slice up carrots the question I ask myself over and over during this treatment comes to mind, "when will I get to a day that I do not want any alcohol at all?" I need a dose of reassurance, so I grab my husband's discarded iTouch which I inherited and read a little bit of my app, The Little Miracle Pill that Cures Alcohol Addiction, it was good to see in print that this process, The Sinclair Method, takes at least 3-4 months before the superhighway craving in the brain starts to narrow....it has not even been 2 months for me! I also pick up my dog-earred copy of, The Cure for Alcoholism and read the part where Dr. Eskapa says that if you stop treatment after a few months you will be like a half-baked cake and your addiction will NOT be extinguished. I feel confident that by month 2ish I will start having effortless alcohol free days. I should remind myself how far I've come too—this is very important; like many alcoholics, I'm really good at beating myself up and seeking out my failures; I need to celebrate the victories, I am healing and alcohol is no longer the star of the show. Hurrah!

I measure my usual 2 unit glass of white and drink 2/3rds of it while making dinner. I add 1 more unit to the glass, so I have enough for dinner. Never too far behind in my mind is a sense of panic that I'll want more, but the 3 units is completely enough and I have absolutely no desire to drink any more tonight. I feel that I must emphasize here how different a measured unit is to me, compared to my typical glass of wine—its like comparing doll furniture to human furniture. If you have not started measuring your units, then start, you will probably be in for a big surprise...which is ultimately a good thing.

So when I have 3 units it sounds like a lot to me, but in my reality it is quite a modest amount of wine, BUT certainly enough and an enjoyable amount for my newly naltrexoned state of mind! Life is good!

The Oscar Party Test

2010-03-12T10:49:00.006-05:00

Day 41: The Oscars are tonight which always puts me in a festive mood. I've hosted Academy Award parties in the past with ballots and prizes, but this year the bulk of my energy is being channeled into my wellness and sanity, so this year's "party" is reduced to nuclear family size at my mom's house with a dinner consisting of stuffed peppers and kale. I bring along the remaining unopened bottle of champagne that has been in the house for almost a week; I'm so proud of this fact as I....to continue click "read more" under photo
pull the chilled bottle from the fridge that I expect balloons and presents to be waiting for me around the corner. We arrive at my mom's house which is surrounded by a sanctuary of trees and wildlife—things I look forward to connecting with more as I get soberized (I like to create new words).

I find my mom in the kitchen drizzling tomato sauce over steamy stuffed peppers and I offer to serve champagne. My husband declines a glass and I wonder when I'll get to that coveted place of declining an available drink. Oh, I forgot to mention, I also brought the remaining half bottle of Big Woop red—just in case—it is Oscar night after all, a party, a jubilant time and it is a new setting; the past few weeks I've been under the same controlled conditions (my house, husband, dog etc.) while on naltrexone and my drinking has been quite moderate, but now I'm dealing with a whole new set of factors/possible triggers—a party and mom and her house. What is going to happen I wonder?

I pour myself a tiny glass of red wine because everyone is being a "wet sock" and wants the champagne when the Oscars start. I really want this glass of red and enjoy it as I set the table for dinner. I don't measure, not out of emberrasment, but laziness. Also, it is a tiny glass and eyeballing it I'd say its 4 ounces...maybe a bit less. The 82nd Annual Oscars begin and I don't skip a beat, I pop the champagne cork and pour everyone a glass of wine before Steve Martin and Alec Baldwin start making fools of themselves (am I the only one who thought they checked their funny hats at the door?). I also pour myself another wee glass of red which I'm really enjoying with dinner these days (let's hope it doesn't turn into breakfast, hah!). I merrily drink my ensemble as I watch the plumage and competition between the actresses cascading onto the stage. Guiltlessly, I pour another glass of champagne for myself. Two hours into the tension of who will win what, I pour another tiny glass of red wine—I glance over at my mom to see if she notices. I quickly tally the drinks in my head (5, which is over a woman's daily limit) and am bummed it is not less. I am going to remain true to Dr. Eskapa's book jacket words, no willpower needed, and decide to have another drink only if I cannot stop thinking about one. I do stop and am thrilled, I get lost in the Oscars and don't think about drinking anymore. OK, so I went over my limit, but it was a party, I drank the booze over a period of 4 plus hours, and I still didn't hit my usual mark of polishing off whatever is available or making excuses to go downstairs to the bar and sneak a few extra sips. I left the remaining red untouched on mom's bar counter

Another big acheivment for me is not desiring a drink when I get home. My old pattern would be to bring some wine home with me, so I could unwind with a drink at home, but tonight I brush my teeth and crawl into bed and am completely satisfied and don't feel deprived. I do feel a bit sad for James Cameron, the director of Avatar, even though he has an ego the size of the Atlantic, he poured his heart and soul into Avatar for many years and he went home empty handed.

Keep Things in Perspective

2010-03-11T08:46:00.005-05:00

Day 40: I'm in a particularly good mood today. The stressful days at work have subsided for now and I'm getting personal things done that were hanging around my neck like an albatross, but more importantly, the skip in my step is due to my awareness that alcohol is no longer the major star of the show, it no longer has top billing, its part of the supporting cast, and will soon become an extra!....to continue click "read more" under photo

I take my naltrexone because I want a glass of red with dinner, that is with dinner, not before. As I make dinner my cheery mood abruptly heads south, at first I think it is because I have not had my "fix", my glass of wine, but I think it through and realize it is my pea-size kitchen that is stoking the fire. You see, I love to cook and while making dinner, in my mind, I host my very own cooking show. But cooking show hosts don't have a postage stamp of floor space and a GE stove that has 3 weak burners and one good one. I am blessed to even have a kitchen and more importantly food and my lack of appreciation for these things stokes the fire even more. Tonight I have all 4 burners going, my onions are not browning so I move the pans around like dominoes and I use an opened drawer and the dishwashing rack as table space; it is precarious and at any moment I may lose part of the meal to floor. I am enraged and I am surprised by its ferocity. Oddly, I think naltrexone should take away all of my problems. It has been such a miracle worker in the booze department that I've put this unrealistic pressure on it to perform Herculean feats (get a grip). The space I'm in starts to feel very familiar, I remember when I went into therapy for some of my issues and managed to work through them only to realize that more problems awaited around the corner and my alcoholism is no exception. I will cure my addiction, I know I will because it is already happening, but what I have to keep in perspective is that naltrexone won't solve all of my problems. Life will still be full of challenges and hardship even when my drinking is fully in check, a rather sobering thought (no pun intended).

Emotional Movie Fatigue Beckons a Drink

2010-03-10T08:54:00.003-05:00

Day 39: I'm getting bored writing about how much I drink, how I feel about drinking, and all things associated with drinking, but then this IS my drinking diary after all, so here I go....

I saw the movie Avatar today and I feel like I'm living in the future with how real everything looks in the movies these days—the lines between fantasy and reality are getting so blurred. We are given 3D glasses by a movie attendant promoting Alice in Wonderland in a Mad Hatter's hat (the lengths Disney will go to promote a movie is remarkable) and I'm impressed with their quality, I'm also thrilled to see a recycle bin for them right outside the theater door. I cannot believe this,...to continue click "read more" under photo
but I cry through parts of Avatar. I thought Titanic was a bloated, overdone movie and James Cameron's ego matched it, but the messages behind his new movie, Avatar, are powerful and touching. We ARE all connected and we must cherish this planet. Oh, I could go on and on about this, but back to my daily tenuous relationship with alcohol.

I walk out of Avatar exhausted by tears and overwhelmed by the big blue people and floating mountains; I'm also sad. This combo is the perfect formula for wanting a drink, so I check myself out on this front and actually am craving a cup of green tea at the moment! On the drive home, Whole Foods is so convenient, we stop for a few groceries and I pick up a bottle of red that won some kooky award called the "Big Woop." I think, if I'm going to be careful and "sophisticated" with my drinking, I should put red wine at the top of the list with its resveratrol—fountain of youth —benefits and nix the focus on white wine. I'm not sure where I put my occasional dirty martini on this list yet, but one day at a time as they say in AA.

At home, I have my lovely cup of green tea and finish up a work project while thinking dreamily about Avatar; it would be nice to live in that forest and drink water from a leaf; instead I live in an asphalt jungle surrounded by buzzing power lines, a busy, loud highway, and I drink water from a plastic bottle (probably one of the really toxic ones).

I pop into the kitchen around 6:30 and wash down a naltrexone (my emotional movie fatigue beckons a drink). When the waiting hour passes, I bring out the remaining bottle of champagne in the fridge and ask my hubby to join me in a toast. He is impressed that there is champagne left from the other night (I feel very cool at this point), not only is there champagne left, but it is a generous amount that I split between 2 glasses and bring into the living room. We toast to the magic and messages of Avatar and vow to go on movie dates more often (last one was over 3 years ago). The champagne gives us both a little buzz and I whip up a special dinner with the added relaxation benefits of alcohol (the kind of thing I really missed when totally abstinent). I decide to have 1 unit of the Woop red with dinner thinking more about the health benefits than the "high." I'm done after this. I've had enough and I'm getting used to this new moderation which delights me hysterically. I remind myself about my "extinguish sugar" experiment and eat 5 Halloween size Snickers as I read Penguin Lives, Julia Child, which irritates me because the words run into the spine of the book making them hard to see and I cannot open it any wider. But it's still a good book minus Julia's carnivorous quest for anything moving—she loves to buy the entire chicken (head and all) and debone it.
Craving level: 7

Happiness! Joy! More Happiness!

2010-03-09T09:14:00.004-05:00

Day 38: Today I wake up for the first time during this whole process and feel like a truly better me—a paradigm shift is taking place and words cannot describe my elation. The air smells better, I'm being nice to strangers, and my formerly imprisoned mind is exploring new territory.....to continue click "read more" under photo

I half-seriously impose a rule of "no drinking" tonight because I really don't think I feel like drinking; I say "half seriously" because I won't lay down the law if I do decide to drink, since Dr. Eskapa says, I don't need willpower for the Sinclair Method.

I make dinner, I make the dog's dinner, the cat's dinner, and eyeball the remaining 1/2 bottle of red on the counter indifferently. I really don't think I want to have a drink, but for some reason (habit? fear?), I pop a naltrexone and set the timer. Halfway through dinner the timer goes off and I pour 2 units of red, it is delicious and goes well with my brown rice-veggie medley. I delight in the fact that my mind is focused on enjoying the taste and not getting a buzz—Who is this new me? There is a wee bit of wine left in the bottle and I have to finish it off because it is too little to leave...it could evaporate. I have to say another brilliant day on the road toward my goal of seriously moderate drinking and if I get to the place that some people do, total abstinence, great, but I don't see that happening since I'm a lover of wine and all the moments, from mountain top picnics to anniversaries, that beckons its presence.

Oh! I keep forgetting to record my craving level...I think it was about a 5 today.

Naltrexone and Opiates Don't Mix

2010-03-08T10:15:00.008-05:00

Day 37: Monster work schedule over, I take the day off and go to the dentist; stress level way down today even though the dentist finds two small cavities. Routinely, he asks if I'm taking any new medications, I barely contemplate telling him about my new friend naltrexone because I already know I don't want to tell him, so I nonchalantly lie and say, "no." As he pokes and prods around in my mouth, I wonder what, if any, effect naltrexone could have on my teeth? I start to worry, but not a lot...I'll Google it when I get home. I did fess up a few years ago to my dentist...to continue click "read more" under photo
that I take Wellbutrin for depression because it made my mouth really dry, my lips were sticking to my teeth, and my tongue was operating like a dry cotton ball and this DOES effect the teeth; not that he can do anything about it, but it does give bacteria more of an opportunity to wreak havoc on my teeth and gums, so I guess he can be more on guard.

What the dentist should've asked me is, do I pop any pills like candy for recreational purposes (even though alcohol is my drug of choice, I would never turn down a pain killer)? I have very fond memories of my first percocet which I was given after surgery when I was 19. I stared at the lucent orange bottle with its big circular pills and carefully read the little stickers slapped all over it: Take with Food! Do Not Drink Alcohol! Do not Operate Heavy Machinery! Since I didn't have access to a bulldozer, I thought it would be fun to wash a percocet down with a beer, so I did and I experienced for the first time in my life an unburdening of my dark thoughts and a euphoric lifting of my spirit. OK, back to the dentist—the reason he should ask about experimental pill popping is because I discovered that while abusing narcotics recreationally I need an elephant size portion of novocaine for any dental drilling. I learned this the hard way with a previous dentist who had to give me 3 very generous portions of novocaine in 3 different place in my mouth with 3 very long, scary needles.

There is no way in hell I would fool around with pain killers now, they mess with naltrexone (refer to Dr. Eskapa's book for details). Simply put, naltrexone is an opiate antagonist, this means that it blocks and reverses the physical effects of opiate drugs such as percocet and morphine. Anyone who is taking opiates like percocet, vicodin etc. need to get it out of their system before taking naltrexone (it takes about 10 days). In fact, I've even read online that while taking naltrexone you should wear a medical bracelet just in case you wind up in an emergency room and they are about to hook you up with an opiate IV; they need to know that you are taking a drug that contraindicates with opiates and you'll need something else for your pain. I may just splurge and get a chunky medical bracelet because I love jewelry and its good for sympathy if necessary.

But I digress...back to my daily booze journal. I have about half a bottle of red wine left in the house and I am wondering if I will feel like drinking tonight or not? I wish I just knew and I wish it was the latter—feel like NOT drinking tonight. I keep telling myself a quote by Emerson which is roughly "I need to adopt the pace of nature", in other words, I need to be patient. Even though I feel like I've been on naltrexone for an eternity, it has only been 30plus days and I did have my experimental phase with it while on vacation, so I should consider that a very loose start. In other words, I won't become a teetotaller tonight. SO, just to be on the safe side I pick up a few bottles of champagne (I'm in a celebratory mood now that a work project is complete). I take my naltrexone at 6pm and I notice by 7pm that I have no desire to have a drink, but I've already taken the pill and the bubbly is in the freezer! Dr. Eskapa rule: Do NOT take naltrexone on the days you DO NOT drink, so I quickly open the champagne because its edging toward 7:30 and I have a few sips. It's satisfying and makes me feel all warm and fuzzy as I make one of my favorite soups for dinner (lima bean and pea which is such a beautiful shade of green it should be a paint color). I'm very neutral about this glass of champagne even though it is yummy and I feel uncomfortable (but happy!) that my relationship to my dear old trusty friend, alcohol, is shifting and changing. Oddly, I pour a 3rd unit to have with dinner and find myself almost making a face like a kid taking cough medicine as I drink the last bit, so why did I drink the last bit then? I feel like I'm living in an episode of The Twilight Zone, but this too shall pass.

Not to forget my experiment with extinguishing sugar, I eat 3 small Kit Kats and a few Cadbury caramels—they are too sweet and only the first bite is enjoyable; as I lay in bed reading with a sugary sick feeling permeating every pore of my body, I wonder if I should drop the sugar experiment?

I'm Forgetting the Wine is on the Table

2010-03-07T11:44:00.003-05:00

Day 36: Another massively long work day. In fact, this one takes the cake—my eyeballs ache, I'm dehydrated from not drinking any water and sitting in a sealed office building all day with no fresh air (my poor plant). I forget to bring my naltrexone to the office and I'm bummed about this. I drive home at 8pm blurry eyed wondering if I'll ever get to the point, sans willpower, where I don't feel the need to greet myself with a glass of wine when I get home....to continue click "read more" under photo

Upon arrival, I peel off the winter layers, snuggle with my adorable dog for a minute, kiss the husband, take my naltrexone, and head to the kitchen. I immediately begin washing the days pile up off dishes then start dinner all the while eying the clock and waiting for the naltrexone hour to be over. Dinner is ready in 39 minutes and I decide not to wait to drink (again, Dr. Eskapa does say you only have to wait 30 minutes if you must and I must tonight). I experience bursts of giddy joy when I forget that my wine is on the table and I'm simply enjoying my food. I do, however, finish the glass (2 units in one glass) and pour a 3rd to accompany the rest of my meal. Like I mentioned earlier, this whole unit thing is new to me and when I first poured 1 unit I thought it could fit in a thimble it was so small. It is now not looking so small, but I'm still pouring 2 units into one glass...old habits die hard.

Craving level: 8. Again, same scenario continues—craving level high until I have my initial 2 unit drink and then I sort of want the 3rd one and then after that I completely forget about the booze in the house and have no desire to down any more and my mind is on to other things!

I didn't have any chocolate tonight because I didn't want to. I know extinction doesn't work that quickly, but sometimes I wonder if this naltrexone is curbing my appetite all together a bit? I don't seem to be eating as much.

Can Naltrexone Get Rid of ALL Bad Habits?

2010-03-06T22:06:00.004-05:00

Day 35: Another intense work day, but an interesting thing happens, I am not thinking about wine on my drive home. I only start thinking about it when I am in the kitchen (pop my naltrexone quickly upon remembrance) and then proceed to forget about a drink again while making dinner—Oh, joy! I still want my wine tonight though, so I generously pour a glass of white (2 units) and to my surprise, drink it rather quickly. I pour a 3rd (another 2 units), uh-oh, is naltrexone not my friend? Am I one of the 20% on the outside of the magic circle?...to continue click "read more" under photo
You see, I'm purposefully not adding any willpower because I want to see if this stuff really works all on its own like Dr. Eskapa says in his book—no willpower needed! I resist the temptation to panic (panic is something I do really well) and remind myself that the Sinclair Method is a 3 to 4 month process (for some longer) and even the heaviest of boozers who start their morning off with a tipple to ward off the shakes have effortlessly become abstinent. I also remind myself that the old me, Dr. Jekyll, would have cleaned up most of the booze in one night and even though I had 4 units tonight there is still a generous amount of Italy's red in the kitchen and I have NO DESIRE TO DRINK IT, so this IS progress. Whew! Craving level: 8 (would not push mother out of the way for the bottle, but maybe a small child).

I must add: I've introduced extra sugar in the last 3 days because I want to see if I can extinguish this behavior, as well. So for the last few days, after dinner, I have dessert, usually chocolate since I like it and since Dr. Eskapa's friend wiped out her obsession for it on 6 weeks of naltrexone. This will be interesting, but I'm also thinking, this could get complicated because let's say I effortlessly choose NOT to drink on a few days. So on those days, according to the Golden Guidelines, I do NOT take naltrexone. Do I pass on dessert then too? The problem with that is my sugar desire goes up when I nix the booze (something most achoholics are familiar with). Mmmmmm? I think I will nix the sugar on the days I don't drink. In fact, on the days that I don't drink (which have yet to ocurr) I should become superwoman of all good habits, so my "Selective Extinction" kicks in (refer to The Golden Guidelines in my app, The Miracle Pill or refer to Dr. Eskapa's brilliant book, The Cure for Alcoholism) and I reinforce good habits and extinguish the bad. Are you as confused as I am?

I feel like I'm living in the future with the Jetsons this pill is so galactic cool! For those battling the booze and the bulge (that includes me) might be interested to know that naltrexone is being tested for people who binge. Its effects have been promising (apparently, the drug has no affect on people who do not binge.). Now, I have my library stack of problems, but binging is no longer one of them. The days of plowing through an entire box of Entenmanns chocolate chip cookies are long gone. This is not by any great achievement on my part, but I simply swapped the binging for drinking; in fact, I think I truly willed this to happen. I always thought binging was sloth-like, gluttanous, and shameful (still do), but kicking back a bottle of champagne like the old movie stars was glamorous and sexy, so I gladly fell into these ranks. Eventually, I realized this isn't sexy (one only needs to research notorious alcoholics like W.C. Fields and his glowing red nose—the result of copious quantities of booze—to figure this one out).

What is a Craving?

2010-03-06T08:16:00.004-05:00

Day 34: After a tedious day in front of the computer, I make my way home at 7:30pm. As I drive, I wonder if these recent lengthy days at the office are contributing to my desire to drink every night? In a few days I will have a break from this intense schedule and I'm looking forward to seeing if I can effortlessly skip the vino for a night or two.
to continue click "read more" under photo

As I blast by my neighborhood 7-11 (the place I frequent for emergency booze), I revel in the fact that I still have some wine remaining in the house and I don't have to fabricate my nightly excuse to pick up greens or toilet paper, so I can pick up some booze. Do I want red or do I want white tonight? I have BOTH in the house! I decide on white and I don't measure because I'm tired and hungry, but I think it was about 1 1/2 glasses. I then had another (measured this time) unit before going to bed. It dawns on me that I have not been keeping track of my progress on the 1 to 10 craving scale, so I will start tonight (it seems impossible to do this and I'm not surprised, since I know in many ways I'm completely out of touch with ME on many levels). But I'll take a shot and say my craving level is probably still pretty high since I look forward to having a glass when I get home. The biggest shift I've noticed is in the quantity. The craving is a 9, but it dwindles down to a 1 or 2 after my first glass. Yeah!

I Feel Like a Kid in a Candy Store!

2010-03-05T09:03:00.004-05:00

Day 33: Colder than staying the night in Jukkasjärvi, Sweden's ice hotel nude, I decide to deviate from my usual white wine and purchase a warm bottle of red. I make a mental note that my obsession with alcohol seems to be shrinking, however, when evening rolls around I'm thinking about and looking forward to my wine (my typical behavior)....to continue click "read more" under photo

I'm a bit puzzled, because I'm not sure how much I desire alcohol physically and how much is simply habit? I remind myself that it's winter, dark by 5pm, and even the toughest of folk can get a bit blue in these conditions and when I'm blue...I want to drink!

So I make my way to the corner market by 7pm and buy their trusty brand of Montepulciano d'Abruzzo, a wonderful red from Italy, at the bargain price of 7.99 a bottle. I take my naltrexone (I bought myself a cute little pill caddy yesterday) in the car, so I shave off waiting time at home. When I get there, I measure out two 4 oz unit servings because I honestly know one won't be enough. I sip it through making dinner and continue to nurse it while eating dinner. Again, this formerly dinky amount of wine would've been gone in 3 effortless gulps a month ago. After dinner, I decide to pour a 3rd unit and sip it through the evening's movie. My kitchen now contains more booze than it EVER has, I feel like a kid in a candy store, and I don't yearn for any more wine tonight—no desire to take a tumbler of wine to bed with me and I can confidently assume that I won't stumble downstairs at 2 a.m., if I cannot sleep, and finish the rest of the bottle.

A Unit Could Satisfy a Mouse it Seems...

2010-03-05T08:15:00.001-05:00

Day 32: Not feeling desperate or even super interested in drinking tonight, but I take my naltrexone because I know I'll eventually hear the siren's call and desire a little something.

FINALLY, I start counting my units like a Girl Scout; I pour a normal glass of wine (for me) and measure it—wow—8 and a bit ounces (this unit stuff is a BIG reality check), so that is roughly 2 units. I'm momentarily stunned and wonder if I should start measuring everything from oils to pasta? I must be fooling myself on a daily basis when it comes to quantities; maybe I should replace my roomy Italian wine glass with something more petite?

I merrily drink my wine and feel light headed (havn't had any dinner yet) and then have one more unit with dinner. And get this, I have absolutely NO desire whatsoever to drink anymore! I have to say that this is so miraculous that it's unsettling; I'm walking around mystified with a head full of wondrous, hopeful thoughts!

I Can Keep Wine in the House!

2010-03-04T17:22:00.003-05:00

Day 31: Half a bottle of wine left in the house; no desire to drink it before my official cocktail hour of 6pm, but I am a bit anxious that it may not be enough booze for the night. Definitely not a thrilling sign for someone who wants to reduce their drinking to one or two times a week, however, I remind myself that this is only day 31 and the journey could take up to 8 months. Not to mention, I could be one of the 20% that naltrexone does not help. Yes, there is a small group of people who may have different opioid receptors in their brain that don't respond to naltrexone or some other mysterious factors that have not been pinpointed yet. BUT I responded well the first week, Dr. Eskapa pointed out and that is a very good sign!

Back to the booze: My usual routine of going out and getting my nightly fix is back in full force, so I put my beloved dog in the car and take her on a walk in a park conveniently located near a market that has a nice, well priced selection of wines. Score! They have a favorite from New Zealand, so repeating my bold move from the other night, I buy two bottles. I can't wait to see what happens when I get home to my growing inventory of wine—half a bottle of pinot grigio and my two shiny new bottles of sauvignon blanc. I cannot remember the last time I had so much alcohol in the house! Excited to have a glass of wine, I try to take my naltrexone in the car on the way home, but can't reach my purse, so I take it when I get home and set the kitchen timer for one hour. I had told Dr. Eskapa that I would be strict and stick to the protocol, but he DOES say in his book that you can take naltrexone 30 minutes before your first drink too (wiggle room!); in fact, if you forget to take your naltrexone and have a drink, he advises taking it immediately upon remembering which hopefully will occur after a sip or two.

I want my bloomin' glass of wine BEFORE dinner, so I only hold out 39 minutes. Observing myself like a Petri dish experiment, I notice that I am satisfied with just one glass of wine (I pour generously like most boozers, so it was probably 2 glasses in one) with dinner and don't crave more or really want more. A few hours later, however, I need to take some supplements and pour myself a wee bit more wine to take them with...this was more out of laziness than craving.

This is all so amazing, I think, but proceeding with caution—I have yet to feel like NOT having a drink on any night and I certainly am still thinking about and anticipating a drink. I also have not really tried to stop myself from having a drink because every time I drink, I think, hey, my brain is under construction and the craving superhighway is busily re-routing and narrowing, so I almost feel that it is my duty to drink every night...at least for the next few months. Joyous words to an alcoholic!

Phoenix Rising from the Ashes

2010-03-04T09:19:00.005-05:00

Day 30: Running out of my prescription. Panicked that I will not be able to get more naltrexone from my already reluctant doctor, I set out for the emergency clinic with my husband as back up. We go over my "story" in the car, so I can get the drugs—"Doctor, I have not had a sip, not even a whiff of alcohol while on this magical medication. I've never felt better!" Right on cue, my dear husband, chimes in "she hasn't had a drop."

Smiling and satisfied my doctor writes me a prescription for 3 months while showering me with toxic babble, "I will never be out of the woods" and "your problem will never go away...never", he quickly added that he didn't want to be negative, but he simply wanted to warn me of what the rest of my life would consist of—a bleak uphill battle. Why not just poke my eyes out with daggers? What is up with people? Little did he know that I had no intention of holding on to my toxic, crippling problem; armed with naltrexone, I am going to become a phoenix rising from the ashes.

Measure your Units like a Scientist

2010-03-03T18:31:00.005-05:00

Day 29: I'm mildly blue because after being on vacation I am faced with
a mountain of laundry, bills, and cooking, oh, and Rescuegirl work too! How easily I can forget my fabulous company when I'm buried in minutia. Anyway, with depression in tow, I buy TWO bottles of pinot grigio today. A first for me. Historically, I can only bring one bottle at a time into the house because I'd drink most of the second bottle in one night with monumentally big regrets the next
morning. But with my new protective shield of naltrexone armor, I
decide to test myself. It works! I not only leave the second bottle
untouched, I don't finish the first bottle, leaving about a third of it.
Ticker-tape parade time!

Before I start patting myself on the back too enthusiastically, however, I must get accurate about my "units" which Dr. Eskapa details in his book. Most people think they are drinking a lot less than they truly are...is this really a surprise? In fact, I've actually Googled "how many glasses of wine in a bottle" and will settle on the website that backs up my excessive drinking, stating that there are 4 glasses in a bottle (a dear friend of mine insists that there are only 3 glasses of wine in a bottle), but the scientific truth is that there are 6 to 7 units in a 750 ml bottle of wine and we dainty ladies should really have no more than 4 of these a day (a shockingly small amount that probably wouldn't even give a fly a buzz...Ok, so that's the alcoholic in me talking!). Go to knowyourlimits.info for more facts on units.

Will the Sinclair Method Save Me? I Think it Just Might...

2010-03-03T18:26:00.003-05:00

Post vacation, and 28 days into The Sinclair Method, my drinking is still not as stellar as the first week, BUT it is slightly improved and that is huge for someone who picked a cork out of a bottle with a knife, breaking the glass in the process, and still drinking the wine—glass shards and all (my brother hid the corkscrew in an attempt to help me, bless his soul, non-addicts are so clueless). I'm drinking every night (again, not good), BUT not finishing the bottle either—to me, this is Oscar-winning behavior. Also, the strangle hold that alcohol had over me is diminishing a tiny bit because other thoughts are pinging around in my head at cocktail hour other than, "do I want a sauvignon or a hardy burgundy tonight?" I confess, I'm making myself sound a wee bit more lady-like than I truly am because I'd actually drink just about anything to get a buzz. I think I might draw the line at peach schnapps and gin, but I don't know, I've never been left in a room long enough with only them to tell.

Post #1: Naltrexone to the Rescue!

2010-03-03T17:50:00.006-05:00

The Very Beginning....
For those of you who have not purchased my app (The Little Miracle Pill that Cures Alcohol Addiction), this is my journey from booze-hound to naltrexone babe with all its confusion, clarity, panic and joy—my journey from the bottle to bliss!

I created the app and this blog to help everyone with a drinking problem. I have tried everything (well almost everything) to cure my addiction to alcohol and nothing, I mean NOTHING, from hospital rehabilitation to mega-supplements to therapy has worked; the only thing this stuff achieved is emptying my wallet and diminishing my hope.

Recently, however, I was blessed to stumble upon a book called, The Cure for Alcoholism by Roy Eskapa, Ph.D. His simple formula, Natrexone + Drinking = Cure is working and for the first time in 15 years I am not a slave to alcohol. Not many people have heard of this book or its cure which is a tragedy, so I thought why not create an app, so I can help people globally. It has helped me so much that any alcoholic or heavy drinker should try this remedy. It may very well save your life, it is saving mine.

I diligently started my booze diary on Day 1 which pretty much reads like this for the first week. Day 1. Lovingly share a bottle of yellow label Veuve Clicquot with my husband; don't feel greedy or territorial like I usually do about who gets the alcohol. In fact, I offer to refill his glass like a party hostess and even fill my glass with a little less! I feel joyous and exuberantly relieved and this is only day one! Day 2. Giddily share a bottle of Pinot Noir with my husband and we or rather I do not finish the bottle; I actually don't want to! In fact, it was right in front of me all evening and I have no desire to polish that puppy off! Miracle. Day 3. Similar miracles occur.

OK, you get the picture. For the first week, even though I drank every day, I drank a lot less than I normally would without even trying. Ah, echos of Dr. Eskapa's book jacket float into my mind, "drink your way sober without willpower, abstinence or discomfort." Love churning into worship for this man...I wonder if he's married?. Then something crappy happened. I went on vacation like a European-FOR 3 WHOLE WEEKS and lo' and behold I went back to my old drinking ways—anticipating my first drink of the day, drinking a whole bottle of wine before I even finished
dinner, and so on. I was also sloppy with my new found friend naltrexone. I would take it in the morning; I would wash it down with a glass of wine at sunset (not waiting the sacred hour before the first drink). One night I stayed up watching movies until 4am, drinking champagne and eating potato chips at every commercial break; concerned that my naltrexone had warn off, I popped another one as I wondered if taking 2 tablets within a 24 hour period would be bad? Panicked, I emailed Dr. E and told him of my wanton ways, he said "stick to the protocol, take your naltrexone 1 hour before you drink." He wasn't mean about it, but he was serious. It scared me which was a good thing. He also said much to my relief that some individuals will have a very positive reaction in the very beginning (like I did my first week) and then it will level off. He logically says in his book that it took you a long time to get this way and it will take you a long time to change it. It is a very gradual and subtle process. That is why he encourages you to keep a diary, so you can chart your progress through the shades
of grey process. I went back to the protocol like a well behaved honor student. He also said that being on vacation (did I mention I vacationed with my mother AND my mother-in-law?) sets off a whole new set of triggers (firecrackers for me) and I need to pass through these on naltrexone while drinking so I can extinguish them—Naltrexone + drinking=cure. I need to put this on a t-shirt, I thought.