at my friend J's since I stopped drinking. J and I have been friends for a very long time, and we are very close. She was at the birth of both of my children. We have an assortment of memories together - vacations, parties, bbqs, birthdays, holidays, etc. Most of them include alcohol. J is a friend I met when I met my husband, about 13 years ago. We don't have many memories together of not drinking, like I do with some of my other friends (even friends who I also have memories of with alcohol). In other words, I may have lots of memories of Sheil and I drinking together (or at list dim recollections, if not exactly memories), but I also have a million memories of Sheil and I NOT drinking together. There aren't too many memories I have of J where alcohol wasn't involved.
Not that we drank constantly or necessarily in huge amounts. But, most things that we did included alcohol, in at least small amounts, on some level. Vacationing on the Vineyard with the kids? Beer on the beach. Wine at dinner. Beer while playing cards after the kids went to sleep.
Dinner at their house? Wine with dinner. Beer by the pool watching the kids run around. Game night at our house? Margarita night. Everything we did included alcohol. Summer bbqs wouldn't be complete without a large amount of alcohol. When we were younger, it was in kegs. As we matured and had children, we switched to bottles. Holiday parties always include a well stocked bar, tons of beer, and gallons of wine.
So, I skipped the Holiday party at J's this past Christmas. I couldn't face all that alcohol so soon. But, we were invited to the Memorial Day party tonight and I wanted to go.
It was odd. Not bad, necessarily. It is weird to be home and not drunk. I watched everyone else drink - not a ton, but my friend drinks kind of a lot. It might be what attracted me to her in the first place. I felt a little out of it - not quite a part of the scene, but I also felt much more in control of myself. I never considered myself a loud or obnoxious drunk - but being there and not wondering if I was talking too loud or saying something stupid was a nice feeling. I think I may have been way more out of control than I let myself believe.
Plus, as an aside, I was able to participate much more with the kids. Not that I hovered around them - one of the best things about our friends is that our kids can play together well and not need us to hover, but I was able to join in with some of the games and help the kids get their plates made (all the kids, not just mine).
I respect myself more right now. I think what is so tragic is that I didn't realize I didn't respect myself when I was in the throes of it.
It did feel odd sitting around the fire without a drink and that familiar anesthetic. The feeling of NOT feeling. I missed it - but I realized I also liked the respect and dignity I felt. I loved the laughter that came from my gut, not from a bottle. I guess everything is a give and take. I gave something up, but I truly think I am on the verge of something better.
1 comment:
You have a way of putting shocking perspective on the simplest things. I have given up alcohol in doses on a number of occasions, and I, too, like the control I gained when I did it. (And that says something coming from one of the world's biggest control freaks!) Glad you can see beyond that maybe "weird" feeling of not holding a beer while sitting around the campfire nad instead, you see the bigger picture.
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