Today Marks One Year of Sobriety.
[I always assumed this was a sentiment shared by 40+ year old beer bellied men working in auto shops... but here we are.]
The first time that I saw a professional about my drinking, it wasn't up to me, it was completely forced. She was a really sweet older white woman. I was 19, I'm sure I had papers to write, and all I kept telling myself was do not say too much to this lady. Before we began our mandated session, she let me know that her notes were "confidential", and she would only report something I'd said if it was "concerning". I nodded thinking, Okay then this ain't confidential, girl. She started with simple enough questions - questions that make clients lower their shoulders, feel comfortable and conversational:
How is school? What year are you? What state are you from? What's your major? Oh, cool, what made you get into that?!
Then we slid into:
"What do you like to do for fun?" "How often do you party?" "How much do you drink when you're out on the town?" "Do you drink with your meals?" "Do you drink alone?" "When did you start drinking?" "Who were you with when you had your first drink?" "Any alcoholic relatives? Aunts? Grandpas? No?"
When I tell you I lied to that lady about everything, including the shit I didn't even need to lie about. At the end of our hour, she closed her journal, and she said she'd like to see me for a second session, free of charge. To this day I don't know why she did that. I can only assume it's because she could tell I was lying, and that I was, indeed, a hotass mess. In the second session I lied to her some more (duh). So all I got out of the whole thing was: 1) water and sleep do not cure drunkeness and 2) soda and redbull speed up drunkenness. I put that information in my back pocket and thanked her for her time. After that, I took a month long break from drankin' - I was really proud of myself for that. People with problems don't take month long breaks. Again, I was 19, and at that age over half the people I knew had gotten into some shit behind alcohol. It was like a rite of passage. I just figured I was a statistic. I just drank when situations called for it. I drank on weekends. I was a social drinker.
We all have our own little mental picture of what addiction and dependency look like. Drinking while I got ready to go out, drinking on the way to my destination, drinking some more at my destination - none of that fit inside the frame to me. I wasn't drinking out of sadness or depression - I was only in search of fun. I felt like when I drank I got more fun. You could invite me anywhere, and I'd be down - if it's boring, fuck it, we'll just get drunk. When I drank, I drank to get drunk. Period. I drank to shut my brain off. How can you really have fun if you're internally panicking about the possibility of doing something strange or embarrassing? I didn't think about what I looked like, I didn't worry about saying the wrong thing, I wasn't conscious of whether I was talking too little or too much - I just fucking existed without thought. I didn't have a favorite liquor, I never had a favorite cocktail - all of it was equally disgusting and ultimately did the same job. I never had a personal limit. I never said to myself "you will have this amount, and then you will cease." I seldom counted. My ceiling was completely based on how I was feeling at the time. "Not drunk enough" meant I was still conscious of what people around me might be thinking of me.
There are a lot of nights I don't remember at all. It's glamorized and normalized, but the reality is, it sucks to think about all the memories created with friends and all the sex with romantic partners that I wasn't even present for. I have pictures of myself that I wasn't even present for. I've called a lot of nights fun when, honestly, it could've been a complete snoozer, bitch, I wouldn't know! But I've never in my life gotten drunk alone - and that's what a problem looked like to me. In retrospect, I can admit that a year ago I would never turn a drink down, are you kidding? And once the party started it won't stopping until I fell asleep or the liquor ran out. What else was there to do on the weekend? How else do people celebrate? I didn't drink to change my actions, or to change who I was - I just drank to stop caring about it all so much. And if I could do that? Oh, then I could really have fun! Sadly, thoughtlessness and carefreedom always wore off with intoxication - the next morning would arrive, meaning hangovers and the odd sensation of guilt. I'd wake up wondering who was mad at me this time and what had I done. I would text everybody that I'd hung out with the night before, something simple, like: "good morning" or "hey yawl!" Then, I would anxiously wait for their responses. Sometimes, I'd find out I'd been an unproblematic blast the night before. Sometimes, I'd find out I was acting crazy but my friends would laugh the whole thing off like, "That darn, Desia." Other times, I had to do serious damage control. Regardless, it never felt good waking up and not knowing what I'd done.
It was a confusing space: on one end I wasn't entertaining enough, on the opposite end I was out of control. Rarely was I able to blend it just right. Those occasions where my drinking created issues with the people closest to me were Godawful. I questioned myself. I couldn't believe myself. It felt like I was saying sorry for crimes someone else committed - because more often than not, I didn't remember them. It felt unfair to me. I felt like everyone should just understand that I was drunk. I felt like anyone who knew my true character could vouch that the sober me would never do or say such wild shit. Eventually, I had to accept that choosing to get so belligerent was a statement that I liked the person it turned me into - more than my true self, and certainly more than the relationships it was negatively affecting.
It's been hard to give myself credit because that requires reflection. At this very moment I wonder what people would say if I did this whole transparent thing just to slip up later. Honesty opens a window for ridicule, but honesty also establishes accountability. Some people find my decision to go cold turkey dramatic, but it was the only option for me. (Doing things in moderation isn't really my forte. I'm an all or nothing typa bitch.) I spent years drinking with the intent to get drunk. I can't even wrap my head around the concept of drinking for some baby buzz or for the taste. Bleck. I'm not standing on a soapbox shouting "Corinthians over Courvoisier!" In fact, I firmly believe that alcohol affects us all differently.
Since eliminating it 365 days ago:
Everything Is Intentional
For a long time, I was down to do anything and to go anywhere - "Sure. Why not?" Alcohol could make it fun. Now, I need reasons - good ones - to do anything. Now, I can't just take any crowd or situation, rub some liquor on it, and TADA! make it enjoyable. Now, I'm really learning what genuinely and purely excites me.
I've Learned What To Water
When I stopped drinking, I stopped bumping into people as often as I used to. I don't just run into friends at the bar, unexpectedly. I still hit the streets every once in a blue, but most of my interactions are scheduled, set apart time. I don't mean to project, or to send the message that once you stop drinking you'll lose all your friends - but personally, not drinking has made me a lot less accessible. My actions and interactions are a lot more meaningful.
I'm Accepting Shit for What It Is
If an exchange is awkward, then it's awkward.
If an event is boring, then it's boring.
If I'm sleepy, I'm sleepy.
If I'm bitchy, I'm bitchy.
If I'm nervous and uncomfortable, I'm nervous and uncomfortable.
And it's all been a tremendous adjustment. I do wonder if people miss the drunk me. Showing up at a happy hour, kickback, party or the club and refusing drinks is treated like showing up to dinner and not eating. People constantly ask me if I'm okay when I go out. If I'm having fun. If I'm sure I don't want a drink. People have questions about my decision not to drink, primarily:
"What happened?"
From my second time seeing a professional about my drinking, I learned: contrary to what they may think is effective, badgering someone to explain the grand finale of their alcohol abuse (in the case that there is one) isn't empowering. Not at all. What it does, is it robs that person of something that took strength and determination - and it gives credit to fear, embarrassment, and/or some unfortunate event. Breaking my cycle is my choice. Refusing to revert back is my choice.
And today marks 365 days of consistency.