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Stumbling Toward the Light

I honestly hope this post helps someone, here ya go:

I love to hear from all of you and figured a nice chat about alcoholism might stir the pot a little.  Wait, wha…?!?! Formerly a personal Catastrophe, now it’s a primary source of inspiration and peace.

I remember my first drink at 14 like it was yesterday. The neighbor kid stole a case of booze out of the back of a car at Christmas time. A bunch of us drank it at his house even though he was older and creepy. That first drink was the ANSWER! My skin FIT! My “Something is Wrong” brain flipped to “This is the Answer to Life” brain. Booze was “Fun”, then “Fun + Problems” (like when I dove into four feet of water and nearly broke my neck after Quervo Gold shots… still pretty fun), then straight up “Problems”. The line is invisible. At some point I crossed it and come to find out there’s no going back.

Steve and I both Quit Drinking for Jesus in about 1997. Folks saw us coming and jumped into a lot of bushes back then. My mentor-lady said “…nothing good ever comes from alcohol!” so out it went. Plus, Steve has a penis, so he could be on the church board and they mandated that board guys be “above reproach”. They said he couldn’t drink even though he has no problem with alcohol whatsoever, trust me. That first length of sobriety was a sweet season for us, when the kids were little.

In 2003 my idea of sin changed, which kind of jacked our whole religion. It flipped from “Sin is Something You Do, You Should Totally Stop” to “It Hurts, How Do We Navigate?”  Please be tolerantsin in Spanish just means without. No more finger-wagging from me, basically ever unless I’m tired + hungry at the same time, then it’s about leaving dishes in the sink, not about THE LORD. I told Steve, “…if this is Christianity, I’m out.” and started to drink in earnest.

Problem is, alcohol makes my thoughts spin in three ruthless categories, the most pervasive – obsession and craving. My brain used those to keep the day focused on booze, even when I washed dishes or smiled knowingly during a conversation. Obsessive thoughts are sneaky, from “I’m not going to drink today!” to “Hmmm, how can I drink without consequence today?” to “I’m for sure going to drink a lot right NOW!” Obsessobsessobsess. I tried to overcome my obsession with a hearty commitment to perfectionism, looking to Tinkly Glasses, Sparkly Bars and dinner parties to decorate our successful looking life. As long as it looked good on the outside I could drink, so, no infidelity or DUIs here! My drinking depended on it. There was the “Everyone on the PLANET drinks more than me!” category of obsession …a curated collection of drinkers I watched v.e.r.y.  c.l.o.s.e.l.y. who really needed help, jeez, look at them. And of course, “I can’t be alcoholic, my life would be ruined by now!” I had perfectly-crafted excuses around my drinking, too, like “Oh, I only drink when I’m bored!”  Bored in Boringtown. Or, “I only ever have two glasses of wine after 5 and never hard alcohol!” …secretly hitting on the wine bottle after dinner while the family watched TV. By the way if you put the bottle in the plastic door shelf it won’t clink when you move it like on the glass shelf, just sayin’. Outwardly it was kinda fine, but inwardly obsession = insanity.

Try as I did with God and friends, a great family and sparkles, I couldn’t stop the flow of Category #2 Thoughts: “I resent so-and-so-person-organization-idea-fee-structure-magazine-Tuesdays so much!” The “I can’t stop ruminating about —–!” set. The product of Perfectionism is disappointment and failure. Constantly disappointed, I drank it away. This may come as a surprise to those of you whoM I tricked into believing our life was utterly fine (much of it was, true enough). But the energy it takes, the mental anguish and anxious despair that go with trying to hold it together is equivalent to two full-time jobs. It takes a nutty amount of energy to hide the pain, especially when the rest of your thoughts travel the deep-rooted grooves of Category #3, Self Loathing.

ALERT: (Seriously, JUST this minute my son asked what I was writing about. I told him a blog about my alcoholism, he said, “Mom, seriously, you’re not a REAL alcoholic.” Yaasssss!).

Self Loathing! Thoughts that pursued every third moment. Maybe you understand the stress of trying to be perfect and the reality of a head-splitting hangover. My heart was CONSTANTLY broken. When I couldn’t listen to my head any more I blamed it on others. “Poor me! Poor me! Pour me another drink…!”…  As long as life looked good, I could drink.  Not good enough? “I hate so-and-such”, another reason to drink, second or third only to “It hurts to be despicable me!” All reasons to drink, plus they feed each other and picked up a decent amount of momentum by the time I turned 45. Note also how utterly self-focused all those thoughts are… “I’m morally solid if it serves ME!” Alcoholics truly suffer under the weight of their self-centered anxiety, as gross as that sounds.

In 2009 I went to my 38-years sober friend’s house and told him I kinda wondered if I might be a little alcoholic. Braced for heavy condemnation (YAY! I can hate you and me both, let’s drink!), here’s how it unfolded:

Me: “I’m kind of afraid I might be alcoholic.” (feel like I’ll explode, no biggy I can drink);

Him: “Oh. Well.   (arms crossed. pause. eyebrow up. looks annoyed or surprised, I can’t tell, either = drink).  How much do you drink?”

Me: “Not very much.”  …every day …without fail, but neverhardalcoholneverbeforefivenotasmuchasTHEM.

Him: “Hmmm.  (pause. blink).   Do you wake up and wonder if you’re a lesbian?”

Me: “Super don’t.” (…wait..what?)

Him: “Well, how would I know if you’re alcoholic?” pause. blink. (I’m suspicious, but…YAY! Pro’ drunk doesn’t think so!!)  “…but I guess people who aren’t alcoholic don’t wake up and wonder if they are. I mean, I like Caesar salads and all but I don’t wake up thinking about them.”

After the shock, my first moment of honest reflection. Could I be addicted? Why doesn’t this feel like a catastrophe? The first honest moment in years, I felt a most monumental relief, a relief BONANZA, because I knew there’s just SO much help and hope for this, I could.finally.let.go.

A lot of unexpected things have changed in the last 11 years. The obsession goes away with the cravings but it takes a lot of honesty and personal work, no doubt. Come to find out the actual intake of alcohol is a symptom of addiction, the illness takes up residence in our brain (more about that in private, if you want). There is a lot of help! And I launched a new scent, it’s called “I Awoke One Day As If Changed”, because, you know, in 2009 I picked a day to change and started on that day. I awoke. The only trick is to pick a day.

(you can click here for a free sample)

Merry Christmas, thanks for listening! Your comments – in any vein, public or private – are most welcomed.

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