Mind the cliches

Today I had a complete and utter meltdown - one of the many I've had in the past month. Perhaps I was naive or just plain stupid but I was under the assumption that once I stopped drinking all I had to deal with was the constant cravings, and the effects of withdrawal. Boy, was I wrong.

Being an alcoholic consists of drinking and figuring out how you're going to get your next drink. Paying bills, meeting deadlines, treating others with respect and integrity, going to work, cleaning, eating, seeing your friends and family, not drinking and driving, going to appointments, putting on makeup, doing your hair, wearing nice clothes, all of those go right out the window. So when you ignore all of those you end up with a huge mess to clean up.

Some days I see the light at the end of the tunnel (excuse the cliche but it seemed most appropriate) and then others, like today, are so overwhelming it's hard to ignore the urge to climb into bed and pull the covers over my head.

I had finally been paid, a very small portion of what is owed to me, but none the less it was enough to pay the over due bills and keep my head above water until the rest of the funds came in. I also had a new bank card as my old one was fraudulent. I went to the corner store to buy my mandatory pack of smokes. Don't judge, I can only deal with one addiction at a time. I inserted my debit card, entered my pin and learned that my bank account was closed. I rooted through my purse, came up with enough change to cover the cost and then went home. Once home, I took off all my clothes (temper tantrums are always more satisfying when done in the buff), closed all the windows - lest my neighbours think that someone was being murdered when I started screaming, and let forth my rage which included the throwing of couch cushions, angry tweets and texts, and of course screaming/hysterical sobbing.

Once finished, I realized my tantrum, although thoroughly satisfying was completely unnecessary. I've had a lot of days like this and I got through them with the help of my friends and family. Perhaps the freak outs and tears weren't needed? All I was doing was venting my frustration and anger in an unhealthy way. Most children grow out of this stage and learn to cope in a healthier, more mature way. Why was I regressing? Or had I never developed adult coping skills?

There are going to be a lot more days like this. I can't behave like a child any longer. I don't need to add any more stress to the pile I already have. Instead of bitching and moaning I'm going to take the hand I'm dealt and use it to my advantage. Enough of letting life control my emotions, I'm going to take charge and control my life. It's time to dust off the heels, pull out the red lipstick and not only live my life but enjoy it. I might as well, I could end up as a dung beetle in the next life. I've got to take advantage of this one. I've got more than most. I have a support system, a great job, a roof over my head (albeit a crappy one that leaks in my living room), a car that is mostly reliable and a closet full of really great clothes that I haven't worn in months.

Watch out world, I'm back with a vengeance.