But get on with what? My other life... the one after the alcohol. I could also add the one after the smoking (did that for 20 years) or the one after the bulimia (did that for 6 years, 30 years ago). I could add those things because they are variations on the same theme as the binge-drinking, my most recent penchant while on this planet. I decide to look up the definition of penchant on google and I see instantly on my phone, "a strong or habitual liking for something or tendency to do something". Yep, that about sums it up. I had a strong habitual liking for wine. And cigarettes. And food. I definitely had a tendency to drink, smoke and binge. But what did I also like? What did I also have a tendency to do?
I liked escaping, avoiding, numbing my emotions and distracting myself. I liked to do that a lot. And I had a tendency to do those things, sometimes more, sometimes less, but pretty much consistently. I didn't like feeling discomfort of any kind, so I told myself I didn't have to. I found solutions in various behaviors over the years- 35 years to be exact. I arrived at this number recently after realizing that I started engaging in numbing behaviors (as I will fondly refer to them now) around the age of 17, when the eating disorder began. I found a way to temporarily take away the emotional, mental and spiritual discomfort of where I was at in life, and so I immersed myself in those behaviors. Six years later, and the eating disorder behind me, I found another trick- smoking- and proceeded to do that for the next 20 years. After I quit that (almost 6 years ago), I fell more in love with wine than ever. The alcohol has been with me through it all, regularly enough since the age of 18. I'm 52 years old now, so I guess that is a long time for a penchant.
The booze was my long-time pal, but it really didn't become my lover until I quit smoking. I still had a dislike, evidently, for discomfort of any kind, so I began uncorking the wine bottles more frequently in order to address that. It worked, until it didn't, of course.
Then 320 days ago, I decided to quit drinking wine for a year, I did that to see if I could do it and to see if other things in my life would change for me as a result of not drinking. I did that without AA (that is another blog topic, or 10) and without other real-life supports of any kind, mostly because those supports are hard to find (another blog topic for sure). I did have other supports in the form of books. I read and continue to read many things related to quitting drinking and addictions in general (more blog topics). These authors are my lifeline; they've helped to keep me on this path. But lately, the path is a bit blurry. The road I'm walking on doesn't have the clarity I'd like it to have, sometimes it's hard to see even a few inches in front of me to where I am heading.
I'm heading of course to My Other Life. I know this. And I am terrified. I know also that I am in that place between there and not yet there, and it is a tough place to be. I spend a lot of time wondering why it is taking me so long to get to my other life. I have visions of what that other life is (again, another blog topic) and the fact that I can't touch it frustrates me to the core. On the other hand, I also seem to be turning around a lot lately to look back on That Other Life, the one I left behind. It reaches out to me with it's warm, comforting embrace, reminding me of the fuzzy glow of lounge booths, reminding me of that particular solution, reminding me of the wine. I know by now that this isn't about the wine really, but for some reason, that is what I still see when I look back.
I have an inner knowing somehow of how easy it would be to just go back to that world. I can taste the effortlessness of it. It lures me with its promise of the familiar, the known, the comfortable. It tells me that I'm too old to start again, to build something new, to find another tribe. It whispers in my ear, too regularly it seems, "Just come back. Stop this ridiculous quest you are on. What are you even doing anyway? What's the point?" It wants me there. I want me there. But then I don't.
Then I look down at my feet and remember where I am standing. Then I feel myself, anchored in this moment, to this spot, solidly, this spot between there and not yet there, and I know I am okay. I am between two worlds and I am okay. I know that I will hear the whispers again, will turn my head back to look, but I also know that looking doesn't have to mean returning. I begin to understand that looking back is probably necessary sometimes. But the beauty is that I can then turn and look forward, to that place I am heading, and as scared as I am, for all the reasons I am scared, I also feel a surge of excitement, and I decide to go with that.
HI TwoWorlds. I followed your link here from Living Sober. I found there was a distinct step; a change of emphasis part way through my longer term recovery. What I found was that my first focus was on stopping drinking, but then I had to shift attention to finding a fulfilling life that didn't leave me feeling that I was missing out by not drinking. It is a totally different challenge and it takes a while to find our way through this patch but at the end of that second phase I found I had an entirely different outlook on life and of my place in the world. I think you are starting to embrace this now and my guess is that you are in for a few surprises. You will probably change your life quite dramatically and in ways that will seem unlike you to those that know you but will feel to you like achieving an authenticity that you may not have had before. Enjoy it. It's fun finally finding out who you really are. (DaveH on Living Sober)
ReplyDeleteThanks for the comment DaveH... I really appreciate it! It's encouraging to hear from someone who has been there that it might not only get better, but a lot better!
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