People in Moderation Management share experiences of naltrexone use

Diana, took naltrexone for about 4 months; now drinking moderately off the drug - mm@lists.moderation.org - 10/10/2001

G1 wrote:

Okay - for KHook and because this post inspires me, I'm giving the
straight dirt on how I moderate now and how I got here. It is a
complicated process so bear with me. A lot of seemingly unconnected
things went into this. This is really free association and if I edit
I won't send it. This will make my third try. Caution, this method is
for radical extremists such as myself, not recommended for the normal,
for anyone whose life is NOT going down in flames or for anyone who
likes to keep records:

First - I think you guys know I was losing a job with my best friends,
the biz was going belly up and it was as ugly as it gets. I have been
a balls-to-the-walls high performance woman for over 20 years. I
drank harder than ever (and that's a lot) and constantly for at least
a month, more - December? January? March? I barely recall them
except for that miserable Christmas. Then I got naltrexone. Next, I
took naltrexone. The naltrexone worked every day for me from the
start. No physical cravings and I was lucky enough to have few ill
side effects. I was also lucky enough to be able to stay home at that
time, which made a huge difference for me. Naltrexone and the combination of
events acted like magic - for me. Once my brain/body figured out that
it wasn't going to get high, it stopped desiring the stuff. I kept
nipping each night because I was afraid of the DTs, I was living alone
and very, very isolated. (I was on that hill, in the middle of a
green, scary and dark forest, estranged from just about everyone
except for Cannon and Ana. Sometimes a week or 2 passed without
seeing another living human. Just the dog and the cats and thinking,
thinking, thinking in that dark place.) I don't recall how long I
kept drinking - maybe for a week? But just nips. A glass of wine
took all night to finish off.

Then the weight started to melt. I didn't believe it at first, but
when my clothes started falling off, I believed. In typically
fanatical manner, I went a little nuts after that. "If I can lose
this much weight only drinking that much, how much can I lose by not
drinking (or eating) anything at all??" So losing weight took
supremacy. I dropped a ton. Too much.

Then, late during that 45 day period, I started eating like a pig, got
a wild idea to move to the coast (in April), moved, lost my health
insurance and ran out of naltrexone and except for the kindness of a good
friend, all of my psyche drugs. No anti depressants, no xanax, no
nothing. (I saved 3 naltrexone for emergencies, and I still have them.) The
big move helped, but being broke and alone started to get to me. I
was afraid to drink, so I didn't. I spent May here at the coast
without phone or TV, running my dog and eating and pacing, somehow
completing or furthering this process of getting comfortable inside my
body and with myself. Getting soft. My townsfolk thought I was a
rich crazy lady who probably had unnatural relations with her big
black dog. I tossed out all of my self help books and stopped
therapy. I broke (finally) with my mother. I was very alone, but
alone in nature, by the ocean, in the light, maybe even happy?

So, in June, just as I was getting into things like re-reading
Tolkien, re-wiring the house, training that damn dog (I was covered in
bruises and bites - no wonder the townies thought I was nuts) I met
this guy... possibly the weirdest character to come down the pipe. A
loser in every sense of the word at first glance. And 10 years older
than me, his harsh life experiences put mine to shame. He started
coming over to the house every day to help with things. (Right.)
Meeting and getting to know him helped finish the process. He is not
what he seems, and he is not what he seems for all the right reasons.

Anyway, a-hem, I rediscovered sex. Big time. (Sorry for the candor,
but sex made and makes a huge difference.) Then I rediscovered love.
With this completely unsuitable person. Oh, well, you know even
Mozart had a wife who loved him. He was also a big drinker and was in
the habit of frequenting the local bars every night. So I went out
with him one night in June and was faced with the decision to drink or
not to drink. (I also got to have a second flowering of a sort -
being the newest meat in town makes you very popular here.) So, I
drank, but never got drunk because I was afraid of embarrassing myself
or letting these people know what I was _really_ like. Anyway, that
started a whole new cycle of going out every night, but still never
getting drunk. Too risky with the police, the horny men, the gossip.
I danced like a fool, met tons of people and had a blast. A blast and
a half. Then this fellow decided that I was too flirty and easily
distracted by the attentions of other men, seduced by worldly ways, so
he broke it off. He stopped going to the bars, but I did not.
Drinking started to creep up in August, but not by much. Two
embarrassing incidents.

Long long story even longer: I don't go to the bars often now, it's
boring. I do love these freaks and these soldiers, these weirdo
friends of mine, so I do get with them from time to time. The bars
are places where I get to socialize (which I never did before), hear
the stories, meet up with a completely different world and, hell, I'm
liked there. Being liked is better to me now than being powerful or
in control or rich. These are funny, funny people. I'd miss it.

I got back with this character who really is the most fascinating
person I know. For instance, as a kid he thought that the coolest
thing in the world was to do a mixture of highly illegal drugs and
jump out of airplanes. He's been to pretty much every country I've
been to and more. Between the two of us we've seen and experienced
just about everything. How's that for a perfect match? He's
difficult and bossy, but devoted to sex, food and talking. (Am I
lucky or what?)

I digress. Here's my moderation method: Unless I go out I do not
drink until bedtime. When I go out to the bars once a week I'm stuck
with beer. (I'm poor and Wednesday night is Ladies' night.) Beer's
filling and I don't particularly care for it, so I drink very little,
usually one, perhaps two. I still have an absolute blast. Now the
nightly ritual: At bedtime, no matter what has occurred, I take a
large scotch and soda up with me, the same glass each night, and set
it on the night stand. Sometimes I drink some of it, sometimes I
don't, I never finish it. I always have something to pour out each
morning - which drives my frugal guy insane, but it's none of his
business. Yes, it's a waste of good scotch, but pouring it out every
morning makes me feel very good. And the permission, the freedom of
knowing that I 'can if I want to' - that's the ticket. And it doesn't
piss me off.

Anyway - the keys for me are: Get laid and often. (If it turns into
a relationship, keep it light and easy. We were not looking for a
'relationship', our genitalia led us into it.) Socialize, socialize,
socialize. Have a group who likes you and lets you 'act out', but
keep some objectivity, some distance. Accept yourself. If you're
obsessive, you're obsessive - obsess on something harmless. Get soft.
Never ever do anything to risk a DUI. Cry. Laugh. Dance. Make more
love. Don't work too hard, it's not worth it. Be romantic. Play
very hard. Stop thinking. Listen to the ocean. Burn your regrets.
Play with the dog (or in my case, defend yourself from the dog with a
heavy coat, a large towel for drool and a brick in your pocket). Play
with another person. Write a story. Pet the cats. Bury the dead.
Help the community (a different story later). Get interested in
something or somebody else. Stop thinking again. Comb some wool.
Take long bubble baths. Eat. A lot. Anything you want. Read a
little spiritual stuff you haven't yet explored. Read Douglas Adams'
Hitch Hiker's Guide. Read the Tolkien trilogy. Watch Thelma and
Louise until you know the dialogue. Watch The Fight Club for light
entertainment. Talk to your kids. Listen to music of all kinds. No
thinking for at least an hour. Turn off the damned news. Expect
nothing.

How's that?

(Laughing at my own self-indulgence) Diana