Need some sober answers

Does anyone else out there that is trying to get sober have a spouse that is hell-bent on being NOT sober? Like it seems like they make it their mission to get drunk every day in your face? Or am I the only one?

Would love to hear from you. Regardless of your answer.


Day 18 and the world didn’t stop turning


As I said before, the longest I have been sober in the past ten years has been 18 days. So my sobriety app is telling me that I made it to 18 days and have saved $90. Well… maybe when I started this app, I was lying to myself about how much money I spent on alcohol each day. $5 a day? Yeah, maybe if I lived in Mexico where $5 is worth 94 pesos. Whatever. This new and improved sober Ray knows that is crap, so I’m gonna try to fix that part of the app. In all honesty, it would have been closer to $10 a day. At least.

So day 18. Now what? That was my goal. I did it. Now, my mind and my heart tell me 30 days is my next target. Seems reasonable. I think with that, I will be able to feel like I am moving in the right direction for good. Then, six months. Then, a year. I don’t have to drink to be happy. It’s actually the opposite. I am happier when I don’t drink.

Every day feels easier, but I’m not going to get cocky. The last time I did that, I literally guzzled an entire bottle of vodka and wound up blackout drunk and buck naked on the fourth of July. Our founding fathers would not have been impressed.

This sober momma is sticking to her soda water. I’m way less likely to wind up naked in a lake that way.


Seven things…

One Lovely Blog Award?

Really? You read the rantings I post? Wow. Thank you, sophie12hours! Love your blog, Sophie! Even though we all know that isn’t your real name.

So I’m going to try this, too. Apparently… there are rules to this.


  • Thank the person who nominated you for the award.
  • Share seven things about yourself.
  • Nominate 7 other bloggers.

Seven things about me:

  1. My real name isn’t Ray, but like Sophie, I’m protecting the people I love. This writing is mostly for me, certainly not for my family, and I would rather it stay that way.
  2. I have gone back to school to get my degree in business management. Apparently, I didn’t have enough to do during the day.
  3. I love football. I miss it when it isn’t football season. I love spring and summer, but find myself wishing it away just so I can get my football fix.
  4. My sister passed away recently of a heart attack. She was 30. Left behind three small children. I’m still not ready to discuss that yet.
  5. I am a sexual abuse survivor. The #metoo movement has recently brought up some old feelings and I am considering therapy for the first time.
  6. My children are my life. I never felt like a whole person until I had them. They make life worth living and the main reason I quit drinking.
  7. I am an alcoholic. I have struggled for 10 years with being a drunk on a daily basis. I am on day 18 of living sober. See #6 for the main reason I quit.

So, that was that. All that is left for me to do is nominate seven other blogs, so here are seven writers who inspire me and whose blogs I regularly read:



There are so many more of you I would like to add, but seven was the number.

Thank you all for writing.




17 Days Sober and 38 Special

An app on my phone reminds me that I have been sober for 17 days. I know that the longest I have been sober in the past 10 years is 18 days, so the 17 blaring at me on my phone screen today was concerning. Can I make it one more day? Well… God help me, I am trying, in spite of everything going on in my head.

This is the anniversary of my dad finding out he had brain cancer. I remember that day so clearly. I drove him to the hospital. He was there for his esophagus cancer checkup. He was doing better. Looked like the cancer was shrinking. We sat in the waiting room until the nurse called his name. When she called him, he stood up and walked forward a few steps and then started to drift sideways like a car out of control. He just kept going to the left. I tried to catch him. That did not work. At all. He fell. They rushed him to the ER. Did a scan from head to toe. His cancer had spread. To his brain. 6 months at best. He suffered for 3 months and 3 days after. Then, he was gone.

I was upset about dad from the second I opened my eyes, but then, I looked over at my husband. Don’t get me wrong. He’s an ok guy. I could have done way worse, but at best, our marriage is a joke. He sent me a song today, 38 Special’s Second Chance. The lyrics in the middle of the song explains exactly what is wrong with our marriage.

I never loved her.
I never needed her.
She was willing and that’s all there is to say.

He cheated on me at some point in our relationship. He won’t say who with or when, but he knows I am aware. It is the one thing that I can’t get over. But there is some good in it because it is also one of the reasons I quit drinking. When I’m sober, I can deal with the fact that he cheated. Like I have been perfect in our marriage? Meh. Not as perfect as I would like, no. But when I’m not sober, I cuss him. We fight. I say things I don’t mean. While I hate his actions and what he has done to me, to the kids and to himself, the part I hate the most is that he proved my mother right. Ugh.

I just don’t know how to move forward with this, but I can’t go backward either. The lyrics in the song also say:

All I made was one mistake
How much more will I have to pay
Why can’t you think it over
Why can’t you forget about the past

I want to forgive him. I want to forget the past. We have kids. We will have grandkids together one day. I don’t want to put any of them through the hell that I went through as a child of divorced parents. And you know what, it was hell being an adult of divorced parents. Nothing was sacred. My parents and their spouses could never be in the same room together without some dramatic bullshit. It is even in my wedding video, my mother and stepmother having one of their famous petty bitch dramas. Whatever. I’m not doing that to my kids. So how do I deal with it?

Stay sober.

You too, Mommas. Just stay sober.

You can’t fix the past with a drink.

Forget about the past.




Sober Momma Blame Game

I do have the tendency to look for who to blame in my life. Why am I this way? Why is every freaking day a struggle? Alcoholic, blame dear ole Dad. Bitchy wife, blame dear ole Mom. Hysterical, paranoid and borderline psychotic lunatic, blame genetics (my mother’s side of the family. Yes, I mean you, Grandma. Bless your heart.) and alcohol (my dad’s side of the family. Yes, I mean you Grandpa.)

Couldn’t possibly be my fault. Nah. Not me. Or could it? If I can see all of the problems of others and point fingers and blame them for my problems, isn’t the real problem that I didn’t do differently?

My dad was a raging alcoholic, although I was unaware of it until I was in my 30’s. He was always a happy guy when he was around me. He left my mother when I was very small (I don’t blame him. She’s nuts. Sorry, Mother. It’s true.) and I always felt like he was trying to compensate for that. Once I had kids in my early 20’s, he was the best grandfather to them. I never saw anything negative from him. If his grandbabies wanted to swing on the swings, he was there. If they wanted to get in the pool, he got their towels, sunscreen and pool floats for them and sat quietly in the sun and watched them. If they wanted to play a game of ball, he was the first to be ready. He was good to them. He was good to me. He got cancer and died a very slow and agonizing death, but that’s a story for another day. Today, I’m choosing the good thoughts or I might find a bottle and just say, “F— it.”

My mother. Always the victim. Dad left her for another woman and that made every man a lying, cheating piece of trash. Her negative, slanderous attitude was so ingrained into me that it nearly cost me my marriage. She had me convinced all men were slime and all were cheating, lying assholes. And thanks to the ability to drown all that shit in alcohol, when I was drunk, I was convinced my husband was cheating on me. She told me that he had moved me away from home so that he could cheat on me and leave me like she had been left. I believed that horrid bullshit for years. I’m mostly over it now, but the damage was done. I trust no one. Good job, Mother. Oh, and did I mention she gets plastered drunk at every holiday gathering and only talks of how great my dad was and how in love she was with him? Right in front of her husband of thirty years? Thanksgiving is forever a pain in my ass and a solid reason to drink.

Now, it’s after 5. I’m doing that thing where I contemplate drinking. I know my husband isn’t where he should be and my mind wanders to “Where is he? Why isn’t he home? Who’s he with?” Drinking would help me forget that. Drinking would solve all the problems. For a minute. For an hour. Maybe two. But as I read earlier today, I would rather eat shit and die. Thanks for the priceless words, Girl. You know who you are. It’s the only thing keeping me sober right this minute. So, to all those women and men out there that wonder if their writing is doing any good… it is. Don’t quit.

Thank y’all for the encouragement. I will sit here and sip my soda water and God Help Me… not drink.




When you’re trying to be a sober mom, some days suck less than others.

Walking through the grocery store with my son after school, I didn’t even look in the direction of the wine aisle. As we passed it, my son said, “Don’t look to the left.” Why would a 13-year-old boy say that? Because his mom has been drunk for the majority of his life and he is fully aware that she is trying to get clean. I wish he didn’t know how flawed his mother is. But alas, all of my children are aware that I am not June Cleaver and that my love for all things involving alcohol nearly ruined all of our lives.

But… Today, I am in awe of how far I have come in 16 days and today just sucks less.

I haven’t bought a Monster and chugged half of it and filled the rest with Chardonnay on my way home from the grocery store. I haven’t hidden a bottle of whiskey in the bottom of my closet and guzzled it until I passed out. I haven’t hidden a bottle of vodka or rum or tequila in the laundry room in over two weeks. To me, that’s progress. To most of humanity, I’m sure that just sounds freaking insane. I don’t care about that anymore.

Today sucks less because I realize I am not the only one like this. I read these blogs and see other people have the same issues. They are just like me.

Today sucks less because I am not alone.





Just doin’ my mom job… sober

As a stay at home mom, I rarely ever share my goings on during the day. If I am asked how my day went or how my day is going I usually say, “Just doin’ my mom job.” When I was asked how my day went yesterday, I said, as usual, “Just doin’ my mom job.” And I finished the sentence in my head with the word “sober”. Just doin’ my mom job…sober. That thought hit me hard. Wow. I really am doing this sober and doing it a freaking million times better sober. In my opinion.

I see the bottom of the laundry pile finally. Sober.

I see the counter clean and the dishes put away from the dishwasher. Sober.

I see the beds made and the floors swept. Sober.

I see my kids happier. Sober.

I put puzzles together, take walks, play games, have long talks. All with my children. Sober.

I see my husband happier with me. Sober.

We don’t argue. Sober.

I’m not paranoid. Sober.

Ok. You get the idea. But this is a revelation to someone who hasn’t been sober for ten years. I thought I was fine. I thought I was fooling everyone. I thought I was a good mom and wife.

My mother’s mother used to say “Southern women can do anything. Even with a kid on their hip.” Not true. Sadly. Sorry, Gramma. I believed it when I was a kid. But it ain’t true. We can’t do all things when we are drunk, holding that kid on our hip and praying we don’t fall down and hurt us both. But, I still love you, Gramma. Forever. Bless your heart. I am trying to prove you right though… Sober.

Every single sentence that comes out of my mouth now, I secretly say sober after it. It’s annoying and I love it at the same time. I was drugging myself and lying to myself. If you’re reading this… Mom or not… Don’t do that. Don’t waste ten years of your life like me. Wake up! It’s not worth it. Learn from someone who has already been there and done that.

Ok. Now… Back to doin’ my mom job… sober. 🙂