And now it's been fourteen years, not eleven.
On January 1st it reminded me that I've been eleven years sober. Eleven. I thought that it had been ten years. Math is hard. I mentioned it to Kevin and he was also surprised that it had been that long.
So, what precipitated the whole sober thing, you ask. Well, a series of not great choices that culminated in overdrinking at a New Year's Eve party. Not tipsy, not drunk but D.R.U.N.K. Made myself sick drunk. Embarrassed myself drunk.
Luckily for me, it was just with family and friends and not publicly. And this is where I say I was over-served and I can't figure out how that happened exactly. I was over-served by someone I trusted so that's just...fantastic. This fact scares me almost more than the overdrinking. So, I quit. Full stop. That was my one and only warning shot.
I am lucky as it's not a struggle. I think about it sometimes, miss it sometimes. But it's not the battle that many people wage on the daily. For that I am very grateful. Mostly it's the social part and the relaxation aspect of it that I miss. Or when the parents are being difficult, whew, I do miss it then.
Because my alcoholic parents were raised by alcoholics, I had decided many, many years ago that I was not going to continue that cycle. I was usually very careful and aware of what and where I drank. I usually had an inner barometer that would tell me "That's enough". Kevin also said once that I didn't have to worry about it. I asked him how he knew and he said in his most Kevin-like way "Because all of your sh*t will be in the yard." Okay, then. Good talk.
Recently during a chat with a younger family member, the subject of parenting, alcohol, and relationships arose. I explained that the person they knew and loved was not the person that raised me. While they have good memories, I don't have that enjoyment. Mostly. Also, everyone in that household is going to have a different set of memories and different parents, even though we sort of lived in the same house. (the "sort of" is too long to explain in this bloggity)
There is a meme about being the black sheep in the family and I so, so, so feel that meme when I am at family gatherings. I am the black sheep that doesn't drink. I am the black sheep with differing values and morals. I am the black sheep who said "Yeah, this isn't continuing with me."
So, yeah. Fourteen years. I have had sip of champagne at a wedding and a sip of wine at a memorial service and a few sips of beer when I left a job. All within about five years and each with a "hmmm, is this a good idea?" accompanying it. My logic was I knew it wasn't going to be capital-D drinking and the opportunity was very limited. My logic was also I knew my history and it wasn't going to end up with me in a gutter. And each time was a "Oh, I miss this" accompanied with a "That's why you don't drink anymore."
Luckily for me, it was just with family and friends and not publicly. And this is where I say I was over-served and I can't figure out how that happened exactly. I was over-served by someone I trusted so that's just...fantastic. This fact scares me almost more than the overdrinking. So, I quit. Full stop. That was my one and only warning shot.
I am lucky as it's not a struggle. I think about it sometimes, miss it sometimes. But it's not the battle that many people wage on the daily. For that I am very grateful. Mostly it's the social part and the relaxation aspect of it that I miss. Or when the parents are being difficult, whew, I do miss it then.
Oh wait, did I tell that story? Real quick: during the Medicine Debacle of 2022, Kevin had just returned from talking to the parents. He marched right to the refrigerator and pulled it open. He looked and sighed then shut the door. "You didn't drink what's in there" (indicating our celebratory drink that is waiting for cheeto hitler goes to jail) I laughed and said "No but you can have it." He shook his head and said "I should. You should. Omg."
Because my alcoholic parents were raised by alcoholics, I had decided many, many years ago that I was not going to continue that cycle. I was usually very careful and aware of what and where I drank. I usually had an inner barometer that would tell me "That's enough". Kevin also said once that I didn't have to worry about it. I asked him how he knew and he said in his most Kevin-like way "Because all of your sh*t will be in the yard." Okay, then. Good talk.
As I didn't have children, parenting wasn't an issue so that cycle was broken for me. But unhealthy relationships were still a thing. I started to figure out patterns in friendships and let those fall away. I recognized traits that I had developed and am always working on those. Finally, my family. I've said eleventy times that the pandemic has given me freedom from my family. (and I'm meaning bio-family, not Kevin's family)
Recently during a chat with a younger family member, the subject of parenting, alcohol, and relationships arose. I explained that the person they knew and loved was not the person that raised me. While they have good memories, I don't have that enjoyment. Mostly. Also, everyone in that household is going to have a different set of memories and different parents, even though we sort of lived in the same house. (the "sort of" is too long to explain in this bloggity)
They did acknowledge that it can be frustrating and how they wished that the drinking "wasn't their whole personality." It came up later in the conversation that one of the brothers has multiple DUI's. They didn't know - suspected, but didn't know - and were properly horrified. Secrets are a thing when there is alcoholism.
There is a meme about being the black sheep in the family and I so, so, so feel that meme when I am at family gatherings. I am the black sheep that doesn't drink. I am the black sheep with differing values and morals. I am the black sheep who said "Yeah, this isn't continuing with me."
So, yeah. Fourteen years. I have had sip of champagne at a wedding and a sip of wine at a memorial service and a few sips of beer when I left a job. All within about five years and each with a "hmmm, is this a good idea?" accompanying it. My logic was I knew it wasn't going to be capital-D drinking and the opportunity was very limited. My logic was also I knew my history and it wasn't going to end up with me in a gutter. And each time was a "Oh, I miss this" accompanied with a "That's why you don't drink anymore."
Also, it can be a little weird to say "I don't drink" in social settings. People make assumptions and that can be frustrating. Just because I don't drink doesn't mean I'm all the stereotypes that immeidately jump to mind. People have stories and reasons and it's not all Lifetime Made for Television Movies.
Where it gets a little weird is if we're in a bar and grille and there's always that hesitation when I decline alcohol. I mean I get it, look around where I am. It's just an good example of how it's complicated for some people.
I think I once wrote about my friend who offered me a drink when we were in Vegas. I will tell it again because it's exactly how a friend should be:
As I said, we were in Vegas and everyone was getting drinks. He offered to buy me one and I told him "No thanks, I don't drink." He looked me in the eye very seriously for moment then simply said "Okay. I get it." and that was the end of it. That's how it should be.
~ ~ ~ ~ ~
This post was three years old and waiting in the drafts folder. It kept moving under my feet as I came back to write it each time. You can probably tell still, the direction kept changing. So to sum up: 14 years of not drinking. Distance from unhealthy family dynamics is a good but difficult thing. Just be cool if the person says that they don't drink.
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