When I hit rock bottom, I had to decide how I was going to land.
“Lately, I’ve been making an effort to acknowledge all that I have in my life to be grateful for. How fortunate I am, but also how deserving. And more often than not, this takes a grueling effort. I am learning to work through this challenge. Anytime my mind drifts toward criticism or judgment, I remind myself to be gentle and kind. I want to do this with my writing as well.
I want to practice focusing on all that is good in my life and fight the constant temptation to get lost in the negative.”
This is Day 2 of A Week of Joy, where I will be focusing on Intoxication and Sobriety.
I was a self-professed wino. My greatest hobby was drinking but I never considered myself to be an alcoholic. I drank for the pleasure of it as well as the stress-relief it offered, or at least that is what I believed. I worked in the service industry as a server and bartender. My shifts were hectic, guests were constantly unsatisfied and rude, and I couldn’t wait to have that post-shift drink. Hell, sometimes I would drink on the job. Sometimes, I would come to work having already consumed a copious amount of wine. I spent so much time drunk, it was no wonder I grew to rely on my intoxication in order to feel normal and happy. I drank when I was stressed. I drank when I was sad. I even drank when I was happy. I drank to numb and dull the mind. There was always a reason, always an occasion.
“Alcohol erases a bit of you every time you drink it. It can even erase entire nights when you are on a binge. Alcohol does not relieve stress; it erases your senses and your ability to think. Alcohol ultimately erases your self.”
― Annie Grace, This Naked Mind
When I take a curious sip of wine now from a friend I usually wince from the taste of alcohol. It burns and with my displeasure comes with a great wave of relief. Ah, good, I don’t miss that. I never liked the taste of alcohol when I was young, either. I made myself enjoy it by drinking it again and again and tricking my brain into believing it tasted good and that it was good for me.
Since I got sober, many people have come to me asking, incredulously, how did I do it. They say they could never be so strong. Or that they don’t know how to even go about quitting booze.
I tell them all the same thing. Before I made the decision, I had wanted to get sober for at least 4 years. It took me four years to build up the strength, or to reach my breaking point. It was on my mind every day up until that point. Sometimes it was in the back of my mind, weighing on me, but always there.
Sobriety was always the better option. It was the only option where I could be truly happy, so I chose it.