It's a Damn Good Morning!

The contractors that our homeowner’s association hired are now replacing a roof on top of a nearby building. By law, you’re allowed to start working at 7am, as far as high noise decibel levels go. I understand while you’re hitting a nail into a surface that you may get about 5-10 whacks in at a time, but these fellas are hitting the suckers at 50 whacks per nail. It’s almost comparable to having ten pileated woodpeckers right outside of your window.

Good morning.

Can you imagine if this was happening while having a hangover? Which is one of my favorite reasons about quitting booze. I may be a little high strung off the java brew, but I tell ya, I haven’t felt this great in so long for such a long span of consecutive days. Last night after coming home from dinner, I went to bed at 9pm and woke up at 7am (to the wood pecking construction crew of course), without waking up once. It’s a miracle.

There had been countless mornings a couple of years back, where I’d wake up to numerous amounts of empty beer bottles and shot glasses all over my huge squared shaped coffee table. During that period I was staying in the apartment above from my parents. Madelene and I were going through a rough patch and I had many people walking in and out of my door. From the years of 2006-2008 my life was absolutely torturous. I numbed myself by drinking through it all. My stress levels and anxiety were through the roof and the company I kept was even more anxiety provoking. I was severely depressed and often contemplated suicide cowardly, thank God.

There were many demands put upon me. I was relied on too much. I felt it was my responsibility for everything. I had a friend who move from AZ to NY with no means of anything. She temporarily slept on a yoga pad with a blanket on the cold floor in her small apartment for a few months before I found a way to get her a nice king size bed from a man who was selling it for cheap because he had to move asap. Soon enough, with the help of my sister, we were able to get her the couch and finally everything else that a person can need for their kitchen & dining room areas. It was my responsibility. It was my fault for programming my brain that way, but I wanted the best for her.

To make a long story short: the rough patch Madelene and I were going through was assumed to be an official breakup on my friend’s part. Without going into too many details, my friend and I got ourselves caught in many webs that couldn’t be untangled. The friendship / relationship eventually became messy and unruly. We ended up arguing all the time. I drank through it all. She drank through it all. We both enabled one another to drink through this thick foggy mess we put ourselves in. I didn’t know what I wanted and everyone knew that I was uncertain about my entire life. I knew what type of martini I wanted though.

The pressures that I was being put under were enough to bring me over the edge. I felt guilt, resentment, anger, bitterness and depression. To remove these negative emotions, I would make myself a drink. It would temporarily remove these thoughts and make me happy for the time being. While still be separated from Madelene, Easter quickly approached and I brought my friend with me to my family’s home to celebrate. I must have consumed 10 fishbowl size goblets of red wine. In fact, there is a write up about "the morning after" on this post. I was a mess. I woke up and I literally thought I was going to die. I had the DTs and I couldn’t put words together. I was unable to speak clearly or even think for that matter. I thought I was literally brain dead. It scared me so much that I seriously asked my friend if she could take me to the emergency room.

“It’s just a hangover, Deb.”

I knew that, but I felt my liver screaming bloody murder. Staying in the company of the same people, I had found myself in seedy bars on my birthday no less, watching my friend throw her brains up and then having the audacity to say that I should have been watching her alcohol intake and that I had a problem with drinking. Well, if I’m drinking and you’re drinking, isn’t it a given that both are unaware of each other’s well being and safety? In fact, wouldn’t it be a grand idea if one of us decided to be the designated driver?

“Oh we’re just down the road.”

Most accidents happen closest to home. The irresponsibility on both our parts was soon coming to a head and finally, the arguments and fights broke out. Being in the company of toxic people will soon match up to the toxicity levels in your liver. It never ends. I found myself pouring drinks just to be in the company of my “friend” who stressed me out on many levels.

I’m grateful that my future now holds many positive things for me: a world of sobriety, friends that are made consciously and decisions made clearly. I’ve never had that much stability in my life before. I never want to go back to that old time of being tanked just to maintain life. But, hindsight 20/20 ; it wasn’t “maintaining” life, it was placing a band aid on it until help arrived, or when I finally decided that I, myself needed help.

So let the construction crew bang all they want, let the woodpeckers peck at their hearts’ content…because it’s a damn good morning!