Ridiculous Thought #1

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“I’ll never be able to enjoy listening to jazz again if I stop drinking.”

Conclusion: Case dismissed with prejudice.

Started sketching again late into the night. WBGO* online radio and my two cats as company. First time I have listened to WBGO while sketching sober. It felt good. In the groove again. It felt familiar and even better sober. Concentration was present. Small steps. My fingers cramped up. It has been so long. I’m out of practice. A good cramp. It will get easier day by day as I return to sketching and painting. Creative pursuits with a clear head.

“Oh, the Places You’ll Go!”**

Mini habits are having a positive impact already. The evening breeze is coming in the window with the occasional moth. The neighbourhood is quiet. I can hear from far, far away the hum of the motorway. No morepork (owls) hooting in the night. No planes, no helicopters. Admittedly it is already morning and a peaceful time to think and create. The stars might be out but I’m occupied. My eyes are staring straight ahead, following the pen strokes. The pen stroke following my brain. Or maybe my brain is following the pen. Who knows what my hand will draw next? Until tomorrow.

*WBGO is a jazz public radio station “Jazz 88”, 88.3FM from a studio in Newark, New Jersey, USA.

**Dr Seuss quote

Can’t Help Myself

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Pre-school children sit in a room. They are told they can have a marshmallow now, or if they can wait 15 minutes they can have 2 marshmallows. The marshmallow in placed in front of the children. The instructor walks out of the room and observes the children.

Are you a 1 or a 2 marshmallow kind of person? The Stanford “Marshmallow Experiment” was carried out in 1960 by Walter Mischel and Ebbe B. Ebbesen. They wanted to observe delayed gratification.

In that case I would easily be a 2.

In real life can we be 2s always? I don’t think we can. I think we fluctuate between the two, the instant versus delayed gratification, like a tug of war. Or is it just in our heads the Devil’s advocate whispering, take it now, why wait? We know to wait gives a better outcome but we also know it is more difficult to wait.

Those of us that are able to wait, or to delay gratification, have a better chance of succeeding in life or that’s what the experiment was supposed to show. Years later it was proven that the results depended on the socioeconomic background of the child. It wasn’t based on will power at all; it depended on the affluence of the household. A biased experiment.

Why am I talking about this? It kind of relates. In my previous blog Care, I mention the mini-habits and that there should be a limit on 4, otherwise it is harder to achieve. Well I did mention I had 6 mini-habits. That’s right. More than recommended. Did I read the label and the instructions? Yes. Do I know better? It would appear so.

Does assembling more mini-habits than recommended mean that I am stuffing my pockets with marshmallows now so that I can achieve my goals earlier? Am I trying to accumulate the habits quicker? Am I rushing the process? Does that mean that I might just end up with a sticky gooey mess and no mini-habits at the end of it? Am I trying to get instant gratification on too many goals as apposed to if I took it slow, I would delay the goals but end up with properly formed habits?

Here are my 6 mini-habits:

  1. Eat a whole food daily.
  2. Open Morning Pages Journal
  3. Put on Gym Gear or Sit on Exercise Bike or Sit in Sauna
  4. Do 1 Duolingo lesson
  5. Open Sketchbook
  6. 2 pages of Reading

This is beginning to sound like the Spanish Inquisition…

These are my 7 mini-habits:

  1. Eat a whole food daily.
  2. Open Morning Pages Journal
  3. Put on Gym Gear or Sit on Exercise Bike or Sit in Sauna
  4. Do 1 Duolingo lesson
  5. Open Sketchbook
  6. 2 pages of Reading
  7. Stand Outside in the Garden

We shall just have to wait and see. I am going to continue with my 7 mini-habits and monitor how I go. So far so good. This is my experiment. After a month of these mini-habit they should evolve into proper habits. The habits will be on autopilot. Wish me luck.

Care

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My word is CARE. This year, 2019, the year of care. It might also be the year of the pig but that is for another post.

Care is providing and protecting what is necessary for health and welfare. Looking after, having an interest or concern for something that is important.

Care is my umbrella word for this year. It will shade me when I step too close to the sun, it will provide shelter when I leave myself out in the rain, it will protect me from side winds when gusts appear out of nowhere.

Choosing care is choosing kindness to oneself. It is making a choice to be kind. It is enveloping oneself carefully in the inclusion of the world. It is not excluding, it is not barring or deterring oneself from the world. It is opening one’s arms and embracing the world from a safe distance. That distance is up to you. It’s your world after all.

Listen for the voice of kindness deep within yourself. Ignore the obnoxious loud whining of the one you would rather dump off the edge of a cliff but its a part of you and you can’t shake it off. The whining will stop or become so quiet that you will stop noticing it. Your voice of kindness will be all that you hear. You need to listen for it. It is there. It has always been there waiting patiently for you.

I am not depriving myself of alcohol I am choosing freedom. I feel like I have another start at life. The new sober me is great to be. I am embracing this sober life. It is the right choice for me. I’ve been dreaming of this off and on for so long, it seemed unobtainable. I thought I needed willpower. Turns out I didn’t need it. I chose to stop poisoning my body, mind and soul. That is all.

38 days in and I am starting to feel stronger about my decision. Insomnia is still with me but I am not wrestling with it. I accept it is with me for now. It is summer and the nights are cool and it doesn’t really matter what time I go to bed. 4am is my new normal. This morning it was 5am. Insomnia won’t be with me forever. I have plans to shock it out of my system. But all in good time. Slowly, slowly does it. The turtle wins the race, not with speed but with consistency.

I am trying Mini Habits, the idea from Stephen Guise. Ridiculously small actions done daily to form habits.

Open my Morning Pages Journal.

The above is one of my mini habits. That is all I have to do. It doesn’t say write three pages. It doesn’t say write anything. It doesn’t even say sit down in front of your Morning Pages journal. It doesn’t even say pick up a fountain pen. It is just a ridiculously simple action to open a journal, nothing more, nothing less.

If I happen to be sitting down and open my journal and I have a fountain pen in my hand, I might feel inclined to write something. A line, a sentence, the date, three pages. There is no obligation to do anything except open a journal. It I choose to do more that is a bonus.

See how it works. The concept encourages you rather than making you feel bad if you didn’t do your mini habit. And it you don’t even manage to do your habit, it is no big deal either.

It is suggested that you don’t introduce more than 4 mini habits into your life. Anymore and you are overdoing it.

Addictive personalities, a myth if ever there was such a thing, makes one go all out or do nothing. It is all on or all off. There is no in between. The tap is either on or off, there is no low pressure there is only high pressure or off. There is no trickle, there is no moderate pressure. If one has the steering towards an addiction towards alcohol, then there is most likely a tendency to overindulge in other areas too, food, gambling,…

The first sip, the first bite, the first bet gives a thrill but how about the third or the tenth? Why is there a need for a first anything anyway?

I had my first sober pizza yesterday and that tasted better than my first drunken pizza. To be honest, I can’t remember it. Is that so surprising?

I went off on a tangent when I had no intention. Forgive me. Back to mini habits and limiting oneself to 4 habits. If you are like me you have 6 written down and you are trying to be an overachiever, pushing yourself to the limit. All for what? It’s just opening a book. The deflated feeling when you don’t meet a goal is because your goal was too vague, too big or too many, completely unmanageable. It wasn’t because you aren’t able. It’s just worded it wrong. You wanted instant gratification. You wanted it all now. Life isn’t like that. It is a journey. If you run all the way you will be exhausted. It is better to walk and rest, take things slow. What’s the rush. The journey is the process and you are meant to enjoy it.

Another of my mini habits is:

Put on your Gym Gear or Sit on the Exercycle Machine or Sit in Sauna

There is no actual exercise required. No 100 sprints, no push ups just get dressed or sit somewhere. This is an alternative mini habit. A habit with a choice. We like choices as long as there aren’t too many of them. If there are too many of them we freeze up and make no choice. Yesterday to pick up my pizza I put on my gym gear. That was me. I walked to the car. Drove to the pizza place and collected my pizza and walked quickly back to the car and home. That was my Exercise mini habit done. No shame that I didn’t go to the gym, didn’t walk so many steps, just satisfaction of doing something towards the idea of the thought of exercise. That’s half of it, isn’t it. The thinking about something. The intention is there. I checked off my Exercise as done. I don’t usually go to the gym on Saturday anyway so I don’t feel guilty.

These mini habits are so stupidly simple that there is no guilt for not doing them and no shame if you do do them. If so inclined you happen to drive to the gym and start exercising then great, that’s a bonus. If you happen to pick up and pen and write a line or a page or a few, again it’s a bonus.

The point of the mini habits is to create habits. Habits are things you do daily. They become something you do so often they are something you don’t without thinking. It’s the lazy way to form habits. I’m all for it.

The goal and the action cannot be the same. The action is a smaller part of the goal. Let’s look at my “Exercise” mini habit, my action is tiny. It involves either putting on clothes or sitting on something. Even on a bad day I think I could manage this. On a good day I could be on the treadmill for 40 minutes, followed by weights and stretching. It’s an idea. The goal is a weight goal. It is generous. As in I have given myself plenty of time to achieve my goal. A year, with my first mini goal after three months. I’m after a lifestyle change here. My “Exercise” mini habit is linked to my “Food” habit, Eat a whole food daily. Combining the two mini habits improves my diet (my eating habits) and makes me move my body more. It improves what I eat and my overall well being.

Take care of yourself. What would your mini habit be?

37 days

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I can feel a shift occurring. It’s a positive one. I had pizza last night. I had a tug of war with myself whether or not to get it delivered or pick it up. I decided to treat myself and get it delivered and then checked the difference in price of delivered versus pick up and my frugalness bone twitched rapidly. I promptly changed my mind and opted for pick up. I picked up the pizza and had a bonus of 2 Pokemon Stops. It got me dressed. I got to play Pokemon Go and I got pizza. Altogether a great combo. The pizza was piping hot. I didn’t have to wait anxiously for the pizza. I was delivering my own pizza.

I do find that having a pizza delivered is more stressful than picking up. Laugh all you like. But I don’t like waiting for things. Once I have ordered I watch the progress of the pizza being made and then once it is ready in store I then wait some more wondering why it hasn’t left yet. What is the traffic? Why hasn’t the GPS tracking locator app found my pizza delivery person? I have no control of the pizza after it is ordered. I actually prefer to pick up. I know what I have ordered. When I ordered it. I have time to get presentable and hop in the car and pick it up. The pizza is not sitting for a long time in traffic or waiting to be taken away. I have control. It’s anxiety free. I am occupied mentally and physically while the pizza is being made and I’m saving money at the same time. I’d call that a win-win. Wouldn’t you?

Stupid I know, but I take Pick Up over Delivery any day.

I ordered a Pepperoni.
I ate every piece.
It was hot and delicious.
I didn’t mindfully eat it.
I didn’t wait for a plate.
Sober free pizza.
A first for me.
It was sublime.

Blemishes

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Summertime and horror go together. Was watching Kaidan, Japanese Ghost Story, a few days ago, a story of revenge, then the next day I was reading Allen Carr’s book, “The Easy Way For Women to Stop Drinking” and found the similarity between the blemish/cut on the face stories to be fascinating.

The samurai fails to pay back his loan to the money-lender upon request and in return the samurai kills him and dumps his body. The samurai then suffers bad fortune and ends up killing his wife and himself in a murder suicide. The daughters of the money-lender never know the fate of their father and grow up, meanwhile the son of the samurai is raised by relatives and becomes a tobacco traveling salesman. One daughter meets the son and they fall in love. Their love is tainted because of their fathers so their love is doomed. The longer they stay together the more they ruin each others lives. The daughter gets a cut over her eye. She is tended to by the son but instead of getting better she becomes worse, the infection spreads and she eventually dies. The story doesn’t end there but that part, the cut or the blemish is the point.

The cut/blemish on the face if left alone would have healed by itself. The daughter should never have been with the son. But fate was cruel and they both suffered.

In Allen Carr’s book, “The Easy Way For Women to Stop Drinking”, someone had a spot on their face and kept using ointment to try and heal the spot. Instead it kept getting worse. So they applied more and more ointment. Turns out the ointment was poison. In the film the son was poison. And in life alcohol is poison. I found it interesting the horror story and a book to quit alcohol both had the same poison scenarios. Revenge and addiction served as one.

Sometimes it’s best to leave something well alone.

Moderately Sober

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The title of my blog: Moderately sober made sense the day I became sober. I had just drawn the last straw with drinking. I made the decision to abstain from drinking. This time I was serious. I have had a few dry months in my life and a dry holiday trip to Thailand. That was all.

Abstain? Formally decline a wine? The declaration can not be taken seriously. Moderately sober? Not possible. It’s like saying “I’m moderately pregnant.” You cannot be moderately sober, you are either sober, a drinker, an alcoholic, or a normal drinker. A normal drinker is just an alcoholic in waiting.

I did honestly think that I would go back to having a drink once a week, controlling myself, after a break from alcohol for a couple of months. I now realise that this is a flawed idea. One cannot control alcohol, the alcohol controls you. I was holding out on the desire to have a drink again one day sometime in the future, hence, the title, moderately sober.

Foolish thoughts enter the head. They can be heeded and/or observed as they float past and away. Moderately sober is one of those foolish ideas. It is now a reminder to myself that “drinking in moderation” is a myth. Cannot be done. The person you are before your first drink becomes a different person after the first drink. The logic and decision making changes. What was considered foolish before now becomes a brilliant idea.

No one plans to drink and drive at the start of the evening. No one plans to argue with their spouse/partner/friend. It happens when the foolish becomes sensible. Logic disappears and demented thought rules supreme.

We are not the wisest when we drink. We are not the smartest when we drink. We might becomes the loudest and the most obnoxious but that is all. Poets, artists, writers, sculptors don’t do their best work when they drink. That is a myth.

“Moderately” is a reminder that moderation is a myth.
I will continue to be sober from here on in.

DH suggested I make a video for myself, declaring to be sober. I did that. For just in case I get the urge to drink again, I can play it to myself. I don’t think I will need it. It’s insurance.

January: A Calm Start

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2019, 34 days sober

After the Party writes about a calm start to the new year.
Couldn’t have said it better myself.
I feel hopeful for the coming new year. I don’t have any regrets for things I didn’t get around to doing the previous year. I’m not beating myself up about it. It didn’t get done, so what! It didn’t get done.
Breathe.
Forget about it.
Breathe.

I feel calm. I feel peace. There is no guilt. There is no anxiety. I feel content.

At the same time there are dishes piled in the sink, the dining table is half covered in stuff not put away. There is dust on the surfaces. The bathroom sink plug hole needs cleaning. I am living in chaos. The bed is made and I had a bath yesterday and washed my hair. The toilet is clean. A load of washing was done yesterday. There are clean sheets on the bed. Small steps to being better organised. I am still in my pyjamas.

I used to be better organised on the surface but was chaos underneath. Now I am calm underneath and chaos on the surface.

I don’t plan to have our home perfect. I want it to look lived in. It certainly does look lived in. it looks like everyone left in a hurry and were frantically looking for things and bolted out the door.

I am not on top of the laundry pile. It is high. I have made a start. One load at a time. The house didn’t become chaotic overnight. I shouldn’t expect it to become clean and tidy overnight either.

Blame the depression. I was watching a film the other night, The Quake*, and was seeing the lead actor living through a breakdown. I saw the piles of mail unopened on the table. I saw the piles of plates in the sink. I saw the untidy room and thought that looks spookily familiar. I can see what has happened. I am through the other side but it feels hard to pick up the pieces.

I used to feel shame and embarrassment. Now I feel calm and accepting. I’m not saying I’m not bothered by the mess. I accept it as it is. It is what it is. A mess. I plan to move on from it. Improve the chaos, one dish, one T-shirt, one wipe at a time. My life is a work in progress.

I really want to get back to sketching and painting. I want to make time and space for this. This is a priority this year.

*The Wave and The Quake are Norwegian films on Netflix. Watch The Wave first. The Quake is the sequel.

Happy Sober Year!

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Christmas 2018 was my first sober Christmas ever. It was relaxing and enjoyable. I say that because I estranged myself from my family. Best decision ever. Toxic family is the reason I drank. Noticing the reason why and dealing with that first was accidental. Followed by knocking alcohol on the head was the right way around. Wasn’t planned at all but that’s the way it happened.

I had a nice hot bath. Too hot in fact. My glasses steamed up plenty and made it hard to read my book. I washed my hair and feel all clean for the New Year.

I didn’t put the Christmas tree up this Christmas just gone. Didn’t buy Christmas cake or Christmas mince pies. No Christmas crackers in sight, much to the relief of DH. I did listen to Christmas music though. And I lit candles on Christmas day for dinner. I think I was feeling cautiously optimistic that I would be sober but didn’t feel too festive. I get that now. Next year will be festive with decorations. The absence of alcohol was nothing at all. It was the dread of giving up rather than realising what I was gaining. I flipped that on its head.

I didn’t send any cards or presents. I didn’t write emails at Christmas. I have hermit-ed myself away and indulged in the luxury of self-reflection, films and reading. Some might call that selfish but I call it necessary self care.

I have scribbled with Sharpies on a large sheet of paper ideas, thoughts, ramblings for the future. I feel hopeful and optimistic. Will put them into a more manageable form this week.

Happy Sober Year!

Discounted marshmallows

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Sweet tooth did the supermarket run today. She bought 10 bags of Christmas marshmallows. They were NZ$1.40 down from $NZ$2.00. I knew they would be there. I had a feeling they’d be discounted. I restrained myself to limiting myself to ten bags.

Wow. The self-control she must have, you might be thinking? Hardly. As soon as I parked the car at home, I placed nine bags into the locker and shut the door. As I write this I can report that the contents of one bag is already missing. I won’t be filing a report. It’s the casualties of life.

The logic behind storing the marshmallows in the garage is laziness. Sure there is a sweet tooth that lives inside of me but she is lazy. There is no way she would bother to go down to the garage and get another bag. The marshmallows are safe where they are. For now at least.

The plan is to ration the sweet tooth to one bag a week. Realistically speaking, it means sweet tooth wolfs down one bag in one sitting but writing as one bag a week makes her sounds like she has her sweet tooth under control.

Day 32 Sober. Reading Allen Carr’s “The Easy Way for Women to Stop Drinking.” It has put the spotlight on my sweet addiction. Substitution is not the answer. Half way through and finding it very helpful.

Happy New Year! Here’s to a wonderful sober 2019!


On a hot summer’s day

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All I could think about yesterday evening was how a glass of wine would be nice. I watched a film and they were drinking on that too. Cocktails and glasses of wine. I went on YouTube and the videos I watched people were drinking wine there too. I couldn’t get away from it.

It infuriated me. I ate instead of drinking wine. I didn’t need to eat. I wasn’t hungry. It was comfort eating. It was a habit. A bad one. The one good thing in all, I didn’t have any alcohol. I am still sober. Day 28.

Going strong with a wobbly day yesterday. I haven’t felt that I was missing anything. Okay the first week I felt and convinced myself I was giving up fun and joy. By week two I realised I was thinking stupid thoughts and I was gaining freedom and control of my life. Yesterday I slipped up with thoughts of what I am missing, instead of all the positive gains I have so far.

My skin looks better.
I feel proud of my self control.
I am SAVING money.
I sleep more soundly.

Insomnia is still with me. I cannot get to sleep before 2am. I am leaning into it. I am not getting upset with it. With my lifestyle I can manage. I don’t have a 9-5 job and so don’t have to get up early. But I am having brunch at 3pm and so my eating habits and sleeping habits are on European time. I’m living in the wrong time zone. Probably I need to set my alarm clock and get up early one day, regardless of the desire to stay in bed and sleep some more. Bite the bullet.