New low

Today was not a good day for several reasons.

I woke up and got ready to go to therapy. I go to my parents house after for dinner and to do laundry. Admittedly, it feels weird to be 28 and doing laundry at my parents house, but I do the laundry myself.. it's just cheaper than going to a laundromat. Plus, I am going there anyway.

Therapy was.. awkward. I sat there and just didn't want to be there. She asked what i wanted to talk about, and I said I didn't know because I feel like everything is the same. I talk about the same problems over and over without any progress. She said we could do something different.

This includes either doing some sort of psychodrama.. which can mean many things. I usually hate the whole role playing idea, though I've done some powerful stuff in residential treatment. She wanted me to use props (random crap) to represent my life or my addiction or whatever.

Or this weird color shit. I looked up a link that sort of describes it sort of http://www.goodtherapy.org/emotional-transformation-therapy.html  But it's basically using colors to stimulate certain thoughts or emotions. She either uses a "light box" which is literally staring at a light that can be adjusted to different colors. I HATE the light box, and I did make that clear a few months back. There's also a chart, which is basically a rainbow colored board. She adjusts it to make me stare at certain colors.

I will fully admit that the chart is weird. The colors move, and it irritates me. She has repeatedly tried to make me look at the yellow, and suddenly half the board is red so the yellow disappears. I'm sure this means something, but I told her we've done that and nothing happened.

So I vetoed those ideas. We ended up talking about hopelessness. I guess it was pretty obvious how hopeless I felt. Enough that she asked if I had a suicide plan. I don't.. I told her I just assumed the alcohol would kill me. I cried a lot. She said it made her sad to essentially see a child that didn't feel loved. I don't like when she says that because my parents did their best. It wasn't that they didn't love me, but I just didn't feel it.. I didn't think they heard me but I hid all my emotions. They tried, but in large part due to bullying and loneliness at school, I came to believe that I should keep it all to myself. I came to believe there was something wrong with me. Surely, I did something to make other kids not like me or ignore me or pick on me.

So that was depressing. The real low point though was after that. I told my therapist it really concerned me being around my parents because I can't control how my hands shake. It's not just my hands, my whole leg or arm may twitch. My psychiatrist had given me neurontin (gabapentin) which is an anti-seizure med that can help with alcohol cravings and with tremors. this worked for a while, and it does help some now but not enough to stop the shakes. So today, I took a water bottle with some vodka with me.

I waited until I got to my parents house after therapy. I drank some vodka which was now very warm. I drank maybe equivalent to 2-3 shots and went inside. I started my laundry and after a while thought maybe I needed more. I was shaking a bit. I took the neurontin and then went to my car and drank some more. In between times I tried to get the alcohol smell off my breath. I ate some peanuts and some breath mints hoping one would cancel it out. I did start feeling pretty sleepy with the alcohol and medication, but I think/hope I didn't seem drunk when my parents got home.

So.. how bad is it that I now need to drink to stop the shakes? I took some pride in the fact that I didn't drink during the day and only rarely hid vodka if I was staying overnight at my parents house. Now, I have changed that. I hid vodka and drank it during the afternoon.

Maybe I really am speeding along the path to death. They say in AA that alcoholism leads to jails, institutions, or death if we don't recover. Jail.. seems unlikely since I drink alone at home and have never (even blacked out) left the apartment drunk. Institutions.. possible but really only if someone makes me or someone pays for it. I have always managed to wait until semesters ended and work ended to go into treatment. And then it was for short periods of time because I understand how expensive it can be and how much debt I could be in. Death... quite possible. It could be alcohol poisoning, falling and hitting my head, it could be liver failure or heart problems or whatever, or it could be suicide. Many options there.

So yes.. not a good day. I am (and this is mainly a reminder to myself) supposed to blog about the concept of a safe environment, safe to make recovery seem possible and less hopeless. I'm not sure where to go with that, but that's for another day.

Thank you to those who read this and those who have left comments. It really does help to be heard(read) and understood.