NOT GONNA DO IT NO MORE

Anne Lamott is one of my very favorite writers.  She posted another great essay to Facebook today.  As usual, she was both funny and wise and I love that about her.  The part that I thought about the most is the part where she muses what she would do if the world was coming to an end.  I identified with throwing dietary caution to the wind, for sure!  And I agreed that there have been times when I, too, would have taken up smoking again and knocked back a few glasses of wine if humanity was on its way out.  And I agree with her now I wouldn't do either of those things either, no matter that the holocaust was about to befall us.

I "quit smoking" (regularly, habitually) in 1982 after 12 years of thinking smoking made me look cool and expressed some external solidarity with feminism, since I only smoked Virginia Slims.  (Pawn to advertisers, I.)  I grew up with smokers -- everyone except my mom, who never smoked but inhaled enough second-hand smoke over her 87 year lifetime that her neurologist said her brain looked like that of a smoker -- as her gray matter shrunk and dementia settled in.  But even that didn't get my attention; I continued to buy a pack about once or twice a year and over a few days time would sit on my view deck with a glass or two of wine and a cigarette for old time's sake.

Then in 2010 my brother was diagnosed with bladder cancer and now lives without a bladder.  (Tricky, but possible -- modern medicine is a miracle!).  His smoking likely contributed to this reality….all those decades of carcinogens being flushed away through the bladder.  I was stunned (cancer doesn't really run in our family, so it was shocking to me to hear he had it) and I swore, "never again" and I haven't.  I'm through with even the occasional "naughty girl" drag on a Slim.  It's been 4-1/2 years and my only regret is that I can't say it's been 32 years, given my "official" quit date in 1982.  I guess I have to use the "this time I really mean it" date.

And the drinking thing…on July 31st it'll be 3 years since a drop of alcohol has passed through my lips.  I can't tell you how happy this makes me.  Surprisingly happy, actually.  Because of course I was not an alcoholic.  No, of course not.  I quit cold turkey (due to a health issue that could be made worse by using alcohol even a little bit) and I have rarely had a moment of regret or temptation.  But looking back…. I may not have had a physical addiction, but certainly I had maybe a teeny, tiny little problem with alcohol.  

Yet, I told myself I was fine.  I didn't drink every day.  I mostly only drank at night -- night being 5:00 on the dot.  Unless I was out to lunch with a friend (noon or after) or we went to Happy Hour (3:00).  And I only drank Chardonnay.  Classy wine, not cheap stuff.  Rarely hard alcohol, except a Gin and Tonic now and then.  No beer (yuk!)  I did get frustrated with restaurant pours -- 4-6 ounces is NOT a glass of wine.  Why, at home I filled those glasses up -- 8-10 ounces is a glass of wine!  C'mon!

It always amused me to hear people say they would have only one glass.  Really?  The first glass was just a thirst quencher!  Downed like a shot.  The second glass was sipped more slowly and the little fuzzy, buzzy feeling was so sweet and welcome all I could do was smile.  The third glass brought on that gauzy, I-love-the-world-and-everyone-in-it euphoria, until near the bottom of that glass or into the 4th, when a maudlin, self-pitying, tearful, wreck of a person showed up to throw a damper on the whole party.  Time to go to sleep.

There were times when I knew I'd overindulged:  sick to my stomach (rare, but still…); falling down (only a couple of times, but still….); passing out (hmmm…wasn't I just sleepy?  Of course I ignored the warning not to drink while taking anti-depressants…That's advice made to be ignored!)

On several occasions I took the "Do you have a problem with alcohol?" tests and found I had to check off some of the items.  Like drinking more than I intended to; trying to stop and not being able to (only on weekends…starting Thursday, unless there is a special occasion on Tuesday, or there is still wine in the bottle to finish from Sunday.); occasionally not totally remembering everything about the night before.   

But I didn't have to check off the very worst ones:  I never missed work or neglected my family or spent money we didn't have or drive while completely drunk (note the "completely" qualifier…which absolutely terrifies me today).  

But I was concerned enough one sunny afternoon to stop into a local AA bookstore/meeting place to have a look around.  I bought the Big Book and talked to the clerk, who of course asked me to come to a meeting and I said I would, with no intention in the world of actually doing it.  I ran to my car and sat sobbing for a good 20 minutes before I drove home and had a glass of wine.

I don't know what my friends and family thought of me back then.  My guess is that I looked just like every other social drinker who occasionally went one drink over the line.  Not much in my "public" life would have looked off to anyone.  I was super high functioning and responsible.  Still….inside me there was a void, a shame, a sad and lonely woman trying to muddle though with a little assist from a bit 'o the grape.

I've written briefly about this in a post a couple of years ago, but I've never actually written this detailed account before.   I'm a little hesitant to hit "publish" on this one.   But honesty is part of my promise with this blog and my hope is always that my experiences will resonate with you and be helpful in some way.

So, today I feel blessed by the sudden, unexplained episodes of syncope that landed me in the hospital a few times and made me decide that I wouldn't drink anymore.  I feel a sense of freedom, a sense of strength, a sense of confidence that was never there when I drank.  I feel proud and healthy and whole.  And grateful.  Most of all I am grateful that drinking is not part of my life.  And I've acknowledged that should I decide to "cheat",  I'd be back to the Chardonnay Charade in a heartbeat.  And while I don't work the steps, have not gone to any meetings, only skimmed the Big Book, I still know….

 My name is Donna and I have a problem with alcohol.

At least, that's the view from here… ©