‘It was the best of times, it was the worst of times, it was the age of wisdom, it was the age of foolishness, it was the epoch of belief, it was the epoch of incredulity, it was the season of Light, it was the season of Darkness, it was the spring of hope, it was the winter of despair, we had everything before us, we had nothing before us, we were all going direct to heaven, we were all going direct the other way.’
Rather than being a Tale of Two Cities, this epitomizes my drinking days until they were all drowned in an abyss, oblivion. My sober days too, but only the positive side of my outcome and surrender.
There is no doubt that I had some wonderful times, travelled to fantastic places, but hell was soon to follow. The progression struck without warning.
When clients come to me in despair or perhaps anger, screaming from within why me, chaotic and disbelieving that they could have come to this, one of the first reactions to sobriety is how do I cope? How do I cope with not drinking at celebrations, or console myself when in sorrowful times? Yesterday I heard that a teacher of last year primary school children decided it would be a fabulous idea for these pre-teens to celebrate with a bottle of non-alcoholic Champagne. What is this teaching them? That if it was legal perhaps she would have offered them the real stuff? What happened to giving them a letter of encouragement for big school and some cake? The madness of course is that rather than how we cope without it, is how truly exhausting it was coping with it.
So many Birthday cards have a witty repost about drinking on your Birthday. A couple of examples:
This is the norm. Again, what happened to the Birthday cards that wished you health and happiness, and many more to come?
There is always a fine reason to drink, or a better excuse not to stop. These again are some examples that I hear. Summer is not a good time, school holidays, long light nights that seduce us into drinking the 3 for 2 offer of Pinot of an evening, Autumn, sad because Summer is over and the thought of Winter is just too much to bear. Christmas, no hope with that one, and then New Year which starts with massively good intentions. Only to be thwarted by the second week of January bringing in the credit card bills from the happy Yule tide, which probably had been far from peaceful. Spring, hope, new life, a celebration, light at last.
What are the benefits of this social oil? Do any of us that are sober enjoy life any less? The answer is for me at least, a definitive NO. We also have the added advantage of remembering all of it, good, bad or indifferent. Not a grainy or blank memories, of mishap or embarrassment. Shame and guilt are things of the past, we can tell the truth, always and never be castigated for it. Crystal clear, clean and sober. A perfect picture of our days and better yet no reason to pretend about anything. Scary sometimes, but oh so rewarding for most of it. What does drinking add to the party? I would for once love to hear the benefits of it. Conversation becomes slurred and inept, wit turns into a mush of badly remembered muddled lines, dancing is ungraceful at best, painful at worst, food that perhaps a host has slaved over for days is inconsequenial, and of course the inevitable slip up by someones partner leads to a row that can last for days afterwards. The gossip following isn’t as juicy at sober parties, but the events I go to are amazing, charming, loving and funny.
Drinking is now becoming not only acceptable, but the done thing for all. Not just grown ups, but our children are being taught how to use it for every occasion. It scares the bejesus out of me.
This is so true. My partner, now moved out and on with his alcoholic life with the person he’s been having an affair with, used to have an excuse for his drinking all the time. He drank because he was happy, because he was sad, because it was a celebration, because he was stressed, because he was relaxed, because it was Christmas, because because because because.
He said he was unhappy in our marriage which came as a complete shock as there were no obvious signs. His drinking became unbearable at times and I found myself drinking with him to stop him from drinking too much – not that it ever worked really. Until he can face his alcholism he will never be happy but he can’t see that. He doesn’t believe he has a problem. But when he doesn’t drink he fidgets and is tense and can’t keep still. It’s like withdraw symptoms.
It’s really sad because one day he may wake up, accept he has a problem with alcohol and realise what he’s thrown away. But until then the grass is greener and he’s chasing that elusive butterfly.
on August 29, 2012 at 10:14 am Kate