Sobriety in One Act

Family reunions.  Office Christmas parties.  Blind dates.  Middle School talent shows.  Outdoor events with Porta Potties.  Thanksgiving.  Conventions of a tedious nature.  Road trips.  Business trips.  Acid trips.  Acid flashbacks.  Visiting Grandma at the home.  Baby showers.  Lonely Friday nights.  Concerts. Tuesdays.  Look, I get it, there are some things you just don’t want to be sober for- even if you aren’t someone who struggles with addiction.  There are events that you know will be uncomfortable and drinking makes it bearable.  There are events you know will be a good time and drinking amps that pleasure up a notch.  There is nothing wrong with that.  Believe me, if you can get through things like OAR concerts and traffic court without blacking out and busting your kneecap, then you are not my intended audience right now.  Feel free to keep reading, though.

There is a strange shift in the sober community at the end of the year, being that drug addict recovery programs gain members, but alcohol recovery programs attendance dwindles.  It no mathematical or politically correct explanation, but drug addicts don’t want to be living on the street when it gets cold and drunks don’t want to (or think that they can’t) be sober through the holidays.   While most thoughts of an active alcoholic are irrational, the most popular (and least reasonable) has to be that: the best way to deal with the embarrassment of what you did while you were drinking, is to drink about it.  So, if last year at Thanksgiving you drank two bottles of wine then nearly burned down the house with a brulee torch, changed into a political t-shirt just to start a fight with Grandpa, broke three pieces of the good china, made sexual advances toward more than one cousin, and topped it off by awkwardly passing out at the table- you have to get drunk again this year to avoid thinking about how humiliated you are about last year. 

Remember when you were a child learning how to ride a bike, and your parent said, “Ok, this is the part where you peddle backward!” No? Me neither.  Because it doesn’t make any damn sense.  Yet, we find ourselves sneaking into the kitchen to chug cooking sherry then returning to the table to push our food around our plates like an anorexic because two bites of green bean casserole might make the alcohol metabolize eeeeevvveerrrr so slightly slower.  Why do we peddle backwards?  Because we feel a storm coming.  At any minute someone could talk about Grandpa, who you adored, who passed away last year.  That hurts.  You don’t want to feel hurt.  Your Aunt could brag about how your cousin just bought a new Mercedes after getting a promotion.  You don’t have a Mercedes.  You have a scooter- not even a nice model- because you have 3 DUIs.  That’s humiliating.  You don’t want to feel humiliated.  Without fail, someone is going to say something along the lines of “such and such last year,” then look at you and say, “oh, you probably don’t remember much about last year.” 

Hole. In. One.  That is, if they were aiming for your weakest link.

This is your moment- the moment where the women are separated from the girls.  The moment when the weak sneak into the kitchen for another smackeral of sherry and the strong take a bite of the bullet along with their pecan pie.  Some things hurt to hear, but those are usually the things that YOU NEED TO HEAR.  They aren’t telling you that you ruined last Thanksgiving because they think it’s a charming anecdote, they want to bring it to your attention so you won’t ruin this Thanksgiving.  Your family may not even be that hard on you, they might not even expect you to be sober, they are just hoping you’ll be conscious.  Harsh reality: conscious isn’t good enough.  Harsh reality: the humiliation you are drinking away is the humiliation that you made for yourself.  Harsh reality: you can’t drive that scooter on freeways and Grandpa is too dead to come and smack that closet vodka out of your shitty hands.  The reality is that you are going to be uncomfortable for a while.  Alcohol is an escape.  Plain and simple.  That need for escape will have you peddling backwards until your tires are bald, your streamers are frayed, and there is a family of squirrels living in the handlebar basket, snacking on the plastic clip-on flowers.  You have to change the trajectory of your life somewhere, and a table full of pie and people who only want the best for you seems like a good place to start.  My simple, humble advice- just give it a try.  Be sober.  Make it through one meal.  Even if it feels impossible.  Your family may not understand this, but I do.  I’m an alcoholic too.  I know exactly what its like to be in that place where the idea of not drinking for a few hours feels like the idea of not breathing for a few hours.  I’m not saying it will be easy.  I am saying that it will be worth it.   The laughs will be genuine.  The love will be real.  The feelings of hurt and humiliation will come, but they will go.  The relief will be extraordinary.  Remember, all that anyone really wants from you, is you.  Conscious.  They will find their own ways to show their delight at seeing a glimpse of that.  It may not seem like the good feelings will be enough to overcome the bad feelings, but come on.  When was the last time you had a legitimate good feeling?  Not a cheap, false, manipulative third drink feeling.  Your Mom hugging you, telling you “you look great!” and really meaning it, good feeling.  Hot cider hitting a stomach that’s only been fed liquor and peanut butter crackers in weeks, good feeling.  The sound of your nephew laughing hysterically while you blow raspberries on his tummy- that’s more than a good feeling.  That’s life.