Slipping Through The Pink Cloud
Definition: Pink clouding, or pink cloud syndrome, describes a stage of early addiction recovery that involves feelings of euphoria and elation. When you’re in this phase, you feel confident and excited about recovery.
My fluffy pink cloud floated by and parked up above around day 14 and stayed just under two months. Not long enough in my book. I’m not bitter or anything. Wink Wink.
Overnight I was getting amazing sleep. As in: I’m nine years old and just swam in the lake under the sun with my sister all day, sleep. No more 3 am potty runs that culminated in insomnia while anxiously going over how much I drank, overthinking everything I’ve said in the last twenty years and who I offended. I woke with a smile on my face and a positive outlook—without having to pray for an attitude adjustment before I even opened my eyes. I had a ridiculous amount of energy and was exercising. Like—EVERY DAY. And enjoying it. Gasp. The eye rolls I threw at my husband were replaced with good natured chuckles. I had house projects I was looking forward to— and not just looking forward to getting done, but looking forward to the actual doing. Weird.I wanted to do All. The. Things. And was HAPPY about it! I was a dang ray of sunshine!
This sobriety thing is working! I feel incredible! The cat litter sprinkled across the floor isn’t annoying me to the point of ruining the entire day! Telemarketers aren’t inducing rage! Rude drivers are getting “bless their hearts” rather than something much, much worse (that might’ve involved use of my fingers, one in particular, and some quarters fed to the oopsie jar)! Everything is so pretty, and clear, and April showers really do bring May flowers!
I fancied myself a sober rockstar that would skate through this life changing choice like Olivia Newton John did in Xanadu!
I was a regular Mary Freakin Poppins!
WINNNING!
UGH…
When I first heard the term Pink Cloud I could picture it. Soft baby pink, cumulous, slowly moving through the sky blue sky. It sounds so innocuous and sweet right? Some call it the “honeymoon phase” of sobriety. Others use the words: euphoric, exhilarating, confident, positive, optimistic. In general, a peaceful, happy, state of mind.
All those are intrinsically wonderful ways to be, something we all strive to have. A way to live our life. So why the warning?
Simply: Beware the pride before the fall.
I am extremely grateful that so many blogs, books and podcasts feature pink cloud-ism in their conversations. I would be in a deep dark depression, and most likely hitting some gin and juice, if I wasn’t forewarned.
Going into anything new, wether it is exciting or terrifying, I think it is very important to have realistic expectations. To prepare yourself for the good, the bad, and the ugly.
If I pick up a guitar and learn Row Row Row Your Boat after 20 minutes of a Youtube tutorial it’s not even crossing my mind that I’ll be playing like Clapton and Prince next week. I would have an expectation of the learning curve. Baby steps. New chords. Practice. Practice. Practice. And knowing my musical capabilities, beyond shredding my eardrums at every concert and car ride, I would set the bar fairly low. Lower. Lower. Say…the next twelve years of daily practice may get me to the level of middle school garage band quality. Realistic. Expectations.
It’s the same with sobriety. I may be proud of my preschool diddy about boats, or say, the first month of abstaining, but I know I am in my infancy. But the kicker is, there’s a difference between a new hobby and putting down the potato juice. It’s a bait and switch, tricky Dick move. Most people, myself included, get this high after a few days, weeks, or months of being sober (Pink Cloud) and those expectations go out the window. We know giving up the drink is going to be brutal—but then, miraculously, it’s not! We know we’ll get cravings—and then we don’t! We know we’ll be sad and anxious—but we’re gregarious and confident and oh so Happy! We’re exercising. DAILY! for goodness sake. It’s amazing and fabulous and why oh why isn’t everyone doing this??? It’s not hard AT ALL!!
Then the slow slip begins.
I can see my little cartoon self sinking.
Feet
Legs
Torso
Chest
Neck
Head
Floating down back to earth.
I could feel the decline. Of everything. My confidence. My joy (egads am I annoying. Joy? really?) My energy. My sleep. My desire to conquer the world and share all the benefits of my newfound sparkly mindset was mist-ing away.
Have you seen the video of raccoons trying desperately to wash cotton candy? Say what you will about those little trash pandas but they are down with clean food! It’s hilarious and pitiful as their excitement withers into confusion and the morsels of sugary goodness dissolve until there’s nothing left. I tried to hold on and grab at the edges. To hoist myself back up—but you can’t hold a cloud. It’s an exercise in futility.
And so it begins.
Reality has reared its ugly head.
My sleep is back to being sporadic at best. No more deep slumber and refreshed mornings, waking like an Ambien sleeping beauty. It’s punctuated with frequent jolts of waking. And though I’m not obsessing about what a horrible person I am nearly as much as I was, pre-nondrinking, I am having a hard time shutting my brain off from the long list of things I need to do, but do not do. Because I’m not doing anything.
And this is why…
The last few weeks I have felt lost. That feeling of forgetting something really important but not being able to put my finger on it. I wander from room to room, in my home and in my head. Seeing what needs to be done and knowing what I should be doing and being completely unmotivated to do it. It all seems very overwhelming. So I take a “few minutes” (quickly becoming hours—how does this time warp even happen?) to unwind with a quick peek at social media, or catch up on one of my “murder shows” (Olivia Benson I love you). I get lost in nothingness. Until it is so late in the day that I convince myself it is not worthwhile to even start that project, throw a load of laundry in, meal prep, text a friend back, call my dad, or anything else on the long list of to-dos. I can start fresh tomorrow. After all, tomorrow is another day (thank you Scarlet O’Hara).
My therapist told me, and then I read it like seven times in different articles for months to follow, that there is another reaction to stress beyond fight or flight. I give you: Freeze. Even when we are not being chased by a lion, this can kick in. If I understand it correctly (once again, I have absolutely no basis for being an expert on anything. Like. Ever.) it can manifest itself when you are overwhelmed or stressed. It brings up trauma from the past, and those good old coping mechanisms that served you well at some point in your life, and most likely no longer do, are going to take over. This was my strategy starting in my teens: freeze and focus on the problem, usually having to do with my moms mental health or lack there of, and let everything else fall to the wayside because I just couldn’t. Literally couldn’t. I was the fixer. So I focused all my attention on this one thing. How to solve this latest problem. Get over this hump. Then get back to all the other stuff.
And…
I also have depression and anxiety and they both can contribute or mimic the behaviors I tend to exhibit during my freeze phases. So I’m not always super clear on what the trigger is, and even less sure which one of the multiple foibles in my mental health and coping mechanisms is taking over—but I am aware it’s going on. Not right away, but sooner or later I can look at my deer in the headlights response and snap out of it. It is a slow awakening most of the time, but eventually I get there.
And…
We are coming out of a worldwide pandemic, which, do any of us really know what to do and how to feel after this traumatizing year plus? As a newly sober, socially awkward without a drink in my hand, introvert, with generalized anxiety and depression, is it any wonder I’m feeling…uncomfortable? I have a constant low buzzing, like there is eminent danger, and yet all I want is to lay down and read a book with my cat under a fuzzy blanket for…I don’t know…a few more months?
I’ve been tucked away in my own little comfort zone cocoon and not confronted with parties, people, functions and social engagements for 114 days of sobriety. So in response to news of the world re-opening I’m anxious and hard core ostrich-ing. (Head. In. The. Sand.)
So I’ve been sinking. The energizer bunny is winding down and there’s a big chance Eeyore is trudging up.
I feel disjointed. Depressed. Melancholy. Languishing.
(Read This: https://www.nytimes.com/2021/04/19/well/mind/covid-mental-health-languishing.html it’s brilliant)
Thankfully this is not a surprise. I was warned about the Pink Cloud, and everyone knows the honeymoon phase of anything ends sooner or later. Then the work begins. And I will do the work. But I’m a bit chapped about it. So don’t expect me to do it with a smile right now.
But I have not had a drink. (There’s that.)
It kinda sucks and I’m feeling pretty blah right now.
So I’m just gonna hang in.
Thaw the freeze.
And stay sober.
This too shall pass
Jennifer