Mama knows best.....

There goes that. My hopeful nicotine recovery has died an early death basically crushing my soul and mutilating my addict ego. I promised my sponsor on no uncertain terms that if it came to it, I would pick up a cigarette before I picked up a drink. Last night, closing out my 7th day w/o a smoke, it came to that. I was faced with the unthinkable. I folded. I smoked.

My company had a HUGE conference last night where we all had a chance to hear where the company is going, where we've been, and why we are all bright shining stars in the construction cosmos. It was cool, but I was totally twitchy from my nicfits. I also was having pretty extreme blood sugar swings as I've been acting out with all manners of chemically processed sweetness. I am a severe hypoglycemic and my blood sugar is fucked Six Ways from Sunday on a good day. Sugar is not just a no no, it is the root biological cause of my alcoholism. Eating, say, a Little Debbie does basically the same thing to my blood sugar and related emotional stability as drinking a Jamesons and Diet. Of course the J&D will get me drunk, beligerent, and blacked out so that is very bad news, I fully admit this. But the point is Sugar (also known as Satan's Semen) can lead me down the same Rabbit Hole.

But I digress. The conference came complete with an open wine bar. And as I was air kissing a female account executive I got a strong whiff of her Merlot and it unglued me. Shit. I never even drank Merlot. If I had to drink wine it was always Riesling. I'm a whiskey girl first, but white wine would do in a pinch. Red always seemed too cloying, drying somehow. The same way beer would fill me up far before I was as drunk as I wanted to be, red wine would dry me out before my thirst was quenched. My cottonmouth would force me onto water and that was never what I wanted during a bender.

So here I am with wildly fluxuating blood sugar levels, nictotine cravings that have re-doubled, and a merlot aromatherapy session to boot. My mind couldn't keep up with all the simultaneous yearnings, so my body took over and I went outside, bummed a ciggie, and smoked that bastard like my life depended on it. I finished politicking at the conference and headed out to Perry Street to try and catch the tail end of the 6:00. I picked up a pack of Parliament Lights from the Deli around the corner.

I got home and called GSBF, left him a message. Same with the BabyGirl. Finally I broke down and called....wait for it....Mom. My mother is not an alcoholic but she's becoming a black-belt in Alanon since I dried out. She's known this was a long time coming, however, so she's been psychically preparing her Recovery Arsenal for eons. Also, she speaks my language. Like GSBF she's spiritually centered in compassion and awareness and the healing power they bring. I understand what my Mom says, I may not always like it, but I get it at the deepest levels of my being.

It all poured out of me, as it is wont to do when one is sobbing hysterically to one's Mother. I told her how overwhelmed I felt with the magnitude of my addictions, how desperately I wanted to be healthy and free. How far away that felt. I told her about my filthy apartment and how I felt incapable of maintaining a normal and ordered life. How much I loved Yoga but couldn't seem to get my shit together in the morning (clean yoga clothes, yoga mat, and shaved armpits) to be able to do it during the workweek (when I really FUCKING need it). How quitting smoking made me binge on sugar and caffiene and now I feel comatose and despondent. I took a really deep breath and was just getting ready deliver the second onslaught of my self-pity when my mother interrupted me.

"I have two things to say Darling and then, if you must, feel free to continue. Firstly, I have never in my life known anyone as sensitive to sugar as you are. If you've been binging you're going to have to accept that your mind and body are still reeling from that. You're going to feel depressed, there's nothing you can do about it until your blood sugar straightens out."

"I know that Mama, but...."

"SECONDLY, the only way to prove to yourself that you are capable of doing the dishes is to do the dishes."

"Excuse me?"

"You are absolutely right that you were completely incapable of maintaining an ordered life while you were drinking. But you aren't drinking anymore baby! You have no idea what you're capable of now and you'll never know if you don't try out new habits and patterns. Honor yourself for the six days without cigarettes. That's amazing. Take a deep breath, hang up this phone, and do your dishes. It'll change your life. And you can call me back after that if you need to. I love you."

"I love you too Mama." We hung up and I looked at the clock. 9:15. I'm supposed to be getting to sleep now. But I know that's not going to happen, I'm too upset. But I NEVER clean after work! My days are too long! I clean on the weekends, when I have the time. Except I don't do that anymore either, I usually don't feel like it. And then it hit me, that's her point. Take the feelings out of it and do it.

I turned up my ipod and slowly went about the business of de-funking my kitchen. I sang, I scrubbed, I danced a little. Before I knew it the kitchen was clean and my heart was noticeably lighter. I cleaned into the living area and got all the trash up, put my dirty clothes in the hamper, and changed the sheets on my bed. I swept the floors. I burned incense. I stood on my head for a little bit and then climbed into my bed to survey my work.

My apartment looked and smelled gorgeous. And it was 10:00 on the dot. For all of my excuses about not having time and even as nasty as my apartment was it only took me 45 minutes to do a fairly sizable overhaul. Hmmm! And Mom was right, cleaning is a brilliant place to put nervous energy.

You get the result after the action not before. The only way for me to know what I'm capable of is to keep pushing my boundaries. And it's the little actions in a day that are going to keep me happy and sober. No grandiose sweeping declarations of miraculous turnaround needed. Don't drink. Go to meetings. Do your dishes. Love your yoga.

Keep. It. Simple. Sweetie.
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