On October 1 of last year, I decided to quit drinking. I’m not sure if you could call my relationship with alcohol alcoholism, but there was quite a bit of alcohol in my ‘ism and it wasn’t easy to walk away. I didn’t get the shakes, or any other detox effects, but I have struggled with some pretty massive cravings over the past 12 months.
I’m trying to decide if I’ll go another year, or drink just a little bit here and there, or declare it quits forever, or somewhere in the middle, which I’m not sure is possible.
On the upside, I’ve made some interesting discoveries – as anyone who moves into a place they’ve never been. One in particular stands out on this anniversary.
When I think about a non-alcoholic future, especially with regards to the approaching holidays, it makes me sad. I have friends and family that drink on a regular basis (some on a more-than-regular basis), and we spend a fair amount of time together in the latter parts of the year. I don’t look forward to someone pulling out a nice bottle of whiskey, or the temptations that come along during tree-trimming time when the egg-nog comes out. One can only drink so many NA beers.
However, when I think about the past, I feel good, happy, a bit proud. I struggled in those moments when I had to sit and watch everyone drink, but the memory of it isn’t that bad. I feel no different thinking back on it than I would if I had drank.
Aside from the frustration when the restaurant bill is evenly divided and I have to contribute to everyone else’s booze fest, I have OK memories of the moments when everyone else was drinking and I wasn’t.
In general, my NA past life has been fine – maybe more than fine.
But when I think about an NA future, it seems sad, like I just broke up with a girlfriend who’s going to be at every party from here to eternity.
The way I think about past and future is interesting. It’s helpful to allow past experiences to shape my perspective on whether or not the future will be good.
It’s super helpful when I think of parenting. When I consider the future, what comes to mind are the very real sacrifices that are required, while the past is full of wonderful memories that keep me going. I would trade them for nothing. I remember the bad times, but they’re a small part of something much more powerful and easily worth the pain.
Forgive me, I’ve said this before, but all good pursuits are difficult. That’s been my experience. All the good that I’ve tried to do in this life has been attended by multiple ass kickings. There’s no way around it.
These days, when future trials, sacrifices, and heartaches (that haven’t happened) get me depressed, I try to sit down with an old photo album or some other reminder of how good things have been, and find a little hope for how they will be.
That’s helpful as I think about what this next year will look like, and whether or not alcohol will have a place in it.
Photo by mostafa meraji on Unsplash
