Amazingly enough the holidays went very well, relatively. No outright fights and less friction than expected from various family members, which is more than I could have hoped for.

Today my parents met with my shrink after months of asking, and that too went rather well, mostly because I'd forbidden him to tell them I was still drinking. I'm sure Thursday we'll have a lot to talk about, but I already had my usual emotional protective wall up when we all were together so no crying. No discussion afterwards either since I had to go to work, so that avoided a lot of awkwardness.

Funnily enough, most of what they talked about was them, and how they've tried to change since my diagnosis and month in the hospital.  It's probably cathartic for them since they don't talk to each other about it, and kept the main focus off of me so that was perfect by my standards. It's always enlightening to see how screwed up they are since it explains a lot of where my neuroses come from, including the alcoholism.

Yes, I'm still pessimistic about the future, but this should get them off my back for a while and maybe allow me to enjoy Christmas without the oppressive unspoken worry cloud that hangs over them whenever I'm around.

There's still work to do in terms of getting them to accept that I'm dying without precipitating that cloud but I suppose that's next. Yay.

I haven't been on Facebook for at least two weeks, and I find that I don't miss it. I was never an obsessive Facebooker, and basically my cell phone is used for texting, calling, and occasionally checking my email, so I'm a dinosaur when it comes to cells. But overall I find that logging into Facebook was the equivalent of face time at work; I hate it and don't really see the point since there are much more efficient and meaningful methods.

If I want to get work done, I don't spend time glad-handing and being the office social butterfly. I chat with those I'm friendly with, but at least 95% of my time is spent either actively working or consulting with colleagues on specific requests to give the best and hopefully correct product to my bankers. Some people spend far more hours at work while getting less done. I'm not there just to be present.

In the same way, on Facebook I see people spend hours making "friends" or updating every hour or so on whatever crosses their mind in hopes of getting likes. I've been making more of an effort to cultivate friendships with those who I know IRL and who I've fallen out of touch with. I still have a tendency to isolate and text instead of call, but I don't miss Facebook at all. It's an artificial construct that serves a few legitimate purposes but is overall unnecessary.

So for this Thanksgiving I'm thankful that I have those people who are much more than Facebook friends. Sometimes I really do think that less technology might be a good thing.

Tomorrow is my last day at work until the following Tuesday, so I'm hoping that I'll be ready to face family with all of its idiosyncrasies and stressors for the next week. There will be a lot to deal with but will in some ways be an enforced sobriety check, so at least there's a positive aspect.

I also need a work break as I'm finding that I'm just lacking motivation to do more than the most basic of tasks or extend my time working on them to give myself a cushion. Don't get me wrong, I still like my job but it's very intense and wears me out, especially in its current configuration of two offices and little satisfaction for it.

Status quo for now, but I'll take it. And see if there are any holiday shit shows.

I'm doing okay, kind of dreading Thanksgiving but still incredibly glad that at least I have others in my life who understand and don't judge me. In fact they're pulling for me to get myself back under control and believe that I can do it. No awkward questions or silences. They understand that wanting to be healthy and extend my life for myself and them can't be forced or guilted into being. It has to come from me.

I get that too, even though I have what is almost like a separate side wanting to torture me. It's the nightmares almost every night where I die or suffer in various ways (burning as I hear people outside screaming in horror, walking on broken glass and having to pick out every piece as blood spurts, being cut open, etc). It's the panic attacks when I can't breathe and am paralyzed until I come out of it while trying to look normal at work. It's the leaden feeling of knowing that I really should make more of an effort to interact with bankers and do my job, but the above reasons keep me barely functioning as is.

I'm trying to break a twelve year habit where drinking was my answer to quell the dreams and the anxiety and all of the recovery meetings in the world won't fix those problems. I'm hoping psychiatry will help since I sincerely doubt this is normal, but there are limits there as well. Most of all I'm depending on some familiarity with, if not this exactly, similar experiences as or with an EDP to know that there is true empathy.

Not sympathy; that implies pity and judgement, but empathy that this can take its toll and we are all doing the best we can against these internal storms. Somewhere along the way I realized that coping doesn't exist in my family. We deny. We hide weaknesses in the hope that they'll magically disappear. We pretend that everything is fine no matter what is actually going on since we need to achieve and be successful.

Any break from that is incredibly welcome, and I'm lucky that I have it. Hopefully I will never take it for granted.

An Arctic chill is in the air and I for one am glad.  I've always hated the heat when you can't sleep, are sweating walking and then dripping in the subway tunnels, the exhaustion that accompanies all of this and just hoping that you get into air conditioning ASAP. There's nothing you can do to wear less without not being in business attire or even casual clothes, but at least with the cold as long as you have somewhere eventually to go with heat you can layer and work with the elements.

I also think part of it was going to undergrad in upstate New York, and having one of the most positive experiences of my life. It was freezing, literally, but it taught me to walk everywhere despite the weather, along with when to take mass transit when it was too extreme. Most importantly it taught me friendship, fun, love, dedication, hope, accomplishment, and a work/life (school/life) balance that was actually balanced.

Maybe that's why the ice cold days when I walk home from the subway leave me more comfortable than when it's what most would consider decent weather. I always think of those earlier years, and while there's pain associated with it in terms of what I've lost since then, I'm learning to live a little better with those memories. Outside of my physical comfort, I've been working on just getting through the weeks a little more emotionally capable.

I know it's a long process, ten plus years in the making, but at least I'm finally making some progress. In the meantime I'll enjoy the cold for now.

Between my blood work and checkup, I've gotten extremely lucky. There are a few values that are slightly out of line, but compared to past numbers, the drinking I've done hasn't made a significant dent in my health.

My MELD score is 6, which is still in the lowest risk band, so for now I'm still well compensated and not in danger. If the score rises to around 15, then they start looking at putting me on the transplant list, which would be another discussion since I'm not sure I would want one. So it's back to wait and see, but if I stop drinking again now I'll emerge relatively unscathed.

Best of all, the NP who I saw was very understanding and didn't lecture or look down on me for my lapse. She also doesn't understand how AA is the preferred method, and understands that I just don't get any benefit from the traditional models.

She also agrees that another inpatient stint would be worthless, and worst of all would jeopardize my job, since if I do eventually need a transplant or get complications from the cirrhosis like jaundice or ascites what's most important is having decent health insurance.  As much as my deductibles suck, employer-provided insurance is still pretty much the best available. Spending at least $5,000 a year along with what they take out of my paycheck for probably the rest of my life is just going to be a reality; any other type of insurance just won't help there.

The situation still isn't great, but it's as good as it can be, and I'm more optimistic than I was after the last appointment. Tomorrow my shrink and I will likely argue about certain things again, primarily the inclusion of support groups in my current life, but on the whole I just need to keep going with life as it is.

My parents may not be here for me like I wish they could be, but over the past 48 hours I've been reminded that there are those who love and care for me, and can be here, not always in person, but a phone call or a text away. That matters more to me than they can possibly know.

It's been so long since I felt that way and it's something I've missed sorely. It's what all of these "recovery activities" are supposed to artificially create, but there is a Grand Canyon of difference between randomly calling people who felt obligated to give you their number due to having addiction in common versus talking to those who know you, your history, and who you have hopefully come to return that connection in a real, meaningful way.

To those I'm writing about, thank you so much, I love you and you have helped immensely! From here I'll face this week with some hope for the future. And I hope that I can return that favor when things get difficult for you.

I have a strange habit of repressing, particularly around my parents. My entire life they haven't really wanted really to know what's wrong or know what to say to just sympathize, so it's nice to know that some things haven't changed.

I'm really scared for my checkup on Wednesday since it's psychologically very difficult for me to face that and all the things I've been doing to prepare (and not prepare) for my new immuno-compromised, compressed life. Somehow seeing medical professionals is worse than facing my financial advisor. With him I was just on the verge of tears. In July I had a panic attack in my doctor's waiting room despite having been clean for 7 months.

Still, I smiled and ate, and went through the motions, and noticed all the times we avoided saying what was in our eyes. God we have a dysfunctional family, and I hate that I know it. I wish I could just be oblivious, or actually (god forbid) feel like they could be there for me, but I know better.

This week will be hard. The week after may be harder, I'm not sure, but last time it didn't get better afterwards and this may be not be any different. Some things never change.

Today was better, but tomorrow it's back to work and the knowledge that I'll be overwhelmed probably within two hours.  I just need to learn to say no and move at my own pace. Try to keep calm, and focus on the positive, even if I don't feel it at all.

As a friend of mine said, I could caption every day with "over it." It's just never over.