Onward.

Today, I poured a whole bottle of red wine and a good amount of tequila down the drain. I felt like a character out of a movie or tv show. Am I really doing this? I can’t succumb to the pressure of thinking ahead, all I know is, right now; yes, I’m doing this. 

I keep having to guide myself back to me. I think about people I look up to. Podcasters and things. People who I have heard or read about their sometimes toxic relationship with alcohol. I see now that they’re older, and they’ve healed, they have a better grip on it, from what I can see. But that’s their journeys. Mine has to be mine, so I have to stop thinking “if she can, so can I.” I have to give myself a chance to really learn what I can do. 

I had my first drink when I was 14. Tanqueray gin. What a way to start. We all hated it, it was disgusting. So, I’m not really sure how I came to continue drinking throughout my teen years. The first time I blacked out, I was 17. Listening to all of my friends recall the story was really embarrassing, and I felt like complete shit the next morning, but that didn’t make me want to stop either. 

Throughout my early twenties, I would have more blackout stories. I even drove my Mother to giving me an intervention when I was 22. After every blackout, and certainly after the intervention, I would always go on a fast. At least 30 days. It always helped me prove to myself that I wasn’t dependent, I didn’t need it, I didn’t have a problem. As soon as the fast was over though, I would celebrate with a drink. 

So, here I am now. 30. I don’t know how many blackouts later. And I think I’m ready to not drink. I’ve been getting subtle tugs to stop for a couple of years now. Those gentle tugs vary up to shoves sometimes. But I’m all about freedom, you see, so I never wanted to stifle myself. Never wanted to declare myself as something, because what if I change my mind? Should I be blocking my natural urges? 

I still feel connected to these thoughts, but I know now what they really are. Deep down, I don’t believe I can do it. Deep down, I can’t see myself, a year or more ahead and not having had a drunk night with my friends, let alone a drink. I’ve been trying so hard to adjust. “Instead of being a person who ‘doesn’t drink’, what if I’m just a person who doesn’t get very drunk? What if I learn to cap it?” 

I binge, you know. Alcohol and food really, but food hasn’t been as present lately. I just noticed that. It’s as if there’s a spotlight now, just on the drinking thing. I’ve tried these little rules so many times. Giving myself a limit, and it would work, but it wouldn’t stick. If I have to keep reminding myself to, I’m not going to. I’ve even tried check ins to try to ensure that I only drink when I’m feeling good, when I’m in high spirits, since I figured the binging came from a sense of lack. 

It’s not enough. I have to let it go. 

I just had to fight the urge to type “for now” after that. It feels a little like a breakup. I want to be hopeful. I want to believe that the separation can be temporary. That I can do the work and grow, and come back to it better equipped to have control. But that’s obviously my dependency talking. Sheesh. All of my subconscious knowings are coming to the forefront. 

With tears in my eyes now, I’m finally letting the acceptance kick in. Drinking, especially the way I tend to drink, violates one of my main values - presence. How can I be present if I’m blacked out? I know who I want to be in spaces with the people I Love. I want to be there. I want to experience being there always. 

Hopefully that helps motivate me. I really do want to learn who I am in all spaces. I want to practice what I’ve been teaching myself, and I never think of those things when I’m drunk. I want to feel my body respond to the spaces I’m in. I want to hear myself. I don’t want to ignore any of my inner guidance anymore. 

So, here we are. Hoping and praying that I can do this. And hoping some other things too, if I’m being honest, but that’s just where I am. That is hoping that this is not a journey of letting go forever, but of truly healing my connection to it. I can Love and accept the parts of me that don’t want to let it go, but we’re still going. 

Onward. 

*orders more kombucha*