Damn, I Know For Sure Alcohol Isn’t The Solution
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Damn, I Know For Sure Alcohol Isn’t The Solution

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Damn, I Know For Sure Alcohol Isn’t The SolutionBefore my drinking ever became really problematic, red wine and a frozen pizza were my go-to solutions in times of great discomfort or stress. If I had a long day at my old agency job or had a less than stellar stand-up experience, I would be sure to hit the grocery or liquor store on the way home. The promise of Cabernet and processed food beckoning me to safety and relief.

Then, eventually, the thing I used to ease my troubles started to become a trouble in itself. But it wasn’t until I had a significant amount of sobriety that it became fully internalized: alcohol will only worsen whatever problem or uncomfortable emotion I’m having. There were many years that I just couldn’t comprehend that concept. Now, it feels as intuitive as breathing or eating. I know pouring wine down my gullet will only make whatever unpleasant circumstances I’m experiencing worse in the same way I know touching a hot stove will burn my hand. How did I get here and will I be able to stay? The gut instincts I’ve developed around my alcohol habits truly shock me. Although I wasn’t a daily drinker, but more of a binge drinker, it still feels like alcohol used to be my solution for all occasions.

Bored at the airport? Drink. Feeling awkward at a party? Drink. Trying to feel relaxed on a first date? Drink. Have a good stand-up set? Drink. Have a bad stand-up set? Drink. At a restaurant that serves alcohol? You best drink, girl!

I’d like to think I made this phrase up but I’m pretty sure I heard someone else say, “Sobriety is just learning how to be uncomfortable.” I do say, “Yes to that, times one thousand.” That’s copyright, yours truly. I used to be obsessed with always feeling great. If I didn’t feel great, I was doomed. Discomfort was a horrifying. Now, when I’m feeling tense at work and see people tapping the keg in our office (yes, there is a keg in our office; G-O-D really has a sense of humor) I think, “That would be nice. I wish I could have some keg beer right about now.” Then almost immediately my next thought is, “But you know it wouldn’t be just a beer or two at work for you, right? You would insist on keeping the party going elsewhere and if no one else was game for that, you’d continue the party by yourself at home? Remember, how you don’t know how to drink in moderation? Oh man, you were bad at it!” Dammit, me! You’re right and I know you’re right. How did you get so wise?

A glass of red wine is what I think I miss the most but I now fully understand, the aftermath of “a glass of red wine” (okay, let’s get real, it was usually more like a bottle) is interrupted sleep, nausea, a brutal headache and inability to fully function the following day. And maybe that would be okay from time to time, if it didn’t set off a pattern of never just being “from time to time.” I guess you could say I’ve gotten really good at playing the tape forward. When it comes to alcohol, at least right now, I seem to have established the ability to deny myself instant gratification for the promise of long-term satisfaction. It feels like a miracle ‘cause, you know, change is hard, y’all.

I still numb feelings with processed food though. The frozen pizza aisle at the supermarket is like my new liquor store. If I feel like keeping it clean, I go Newman’s Own Thin & Crispy, multi-grain crust with flax seed. That’s like the vodka soda of frozen pizza. But if I am seriously upset? DiGiorno five cheese stuffed crust. That’s like my new beer night. And if I’m seriously desperate to zip out of my own skin, I get gelato, too. Eating all that while watching HBO feels like getting drunk to me now. It’s an escape. I am not condoning this behavior. But I will remember all of it in the morning so it feels like a better choice than alcohol.

I don’t get hammered on cheese, bread and Game of Thrones every night of course. Some days, I am so mindful, I don’t even turn to food or TV. Considering the person I used to be, it’s like insanity, being able to recognize my own insanity. I’ll actually ask myself, “Do you really want Chick-Fil-A right now? It’s 12:30 am. What’s so wrong with going home and getting in bed? I think you’re just bored or perhaps anxious about that one weird interaction you had with another comic tonight. Let’s pack it up, sister. You can eat again tomorrow.” Ugh, have I really evolved enough to acknowledge when I’m just trying to stuff my feelings? This progress is impressive and infuriating at the same time!

Getting into this acceptance about the gritty truth of my behavior while actively drinking has made it easier to stay sober. The more I just acknowledge that I can’t drink like other people, the easier it is to accept that it’s no longer an option. Taking it off the table completely removes any opportunity for me to start second-guessing if it will help or hurt whatever discomfort I’m experiencing.

My family took a trip to New Orleans recently and I got a twinge of jealousy knowing they’d be drinking and having fun. Why can’t I do that? Knowing that it’s not really a choice for me to “just drink and have fun” without severe consequences eases my envy somewhat. The last time I was still drinking and in New Orleans, I was bloated or hungover the entire time. And I made out with a less than savory character (who I later found out was married) in the bathroom of my friend’s parents’ hotel room at 5 am. Oh yeah, that’s what my weekend in New Orleans looks like when I’m consuming alcohol. I think I’d rather romance it for a minute then get back to my reality. The one where it’s officially not the way I live today.

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AfterParty Magazine is the editorial division of RehabReviews.com. It showcases writers in recovery, some of whom choose to remain anonymous. Other stories by AfterParty Magazine are the collective effort of the AfterParty staff.