Without fail, in my past, whenever I celebrated, I did so with champagne.
Birthdays, weddings, graduations, promotions, good news -- pop went the cork. Celebrations meant drinking, and I did.
I had this fantasy. As a writer, one of my greatest goals was to be published in a national magazine. Not a rinky-dink local newspaper or a regional magazine, but a real magazine, like "O" or "Real Simple" or "Sports Illustrated." When I did, I would purchase one of those fancy bottles of Champagne with the flowers carved in the bottle. They cost about $60-$70, but I was worth it. And I would celebrate.
That hasn't happened yet. It may never. But I did get some great professional news this week, as my writing was honored with first place in a national contest. I was thrilled. And my first reaction was...I wanted a steak. I wanted to go out to dinner with my family at the local steakhouse, and celebrate with Shirley Temples, onion rings and a $24 slice of prime rib. The idea of drinking to celebrate this news never entered my mind.
And that is the real reason to celebrate.
Friday, March 6, 2009
Wednesday, February 25, 2009
Hump Day
It's already Wednesday! I have had a tough couple of days lately -- must be the rain. But whatever the reason, I've been spending a lot of time lately on the pity pot. Someone close to me mentioned that with nearly 16 months sobriety, I should be over the "Poor me" stage, and I shouldn't be craving. Is that true? Am I a remedial drunk, falling behind in my sobriety development? Are there special AA classes for those of us who can't keep up with the rest of AA? It's probably the fault of that new federal law, "No Drunk Left Behind," which states that by 2012 all recovering alcoholics will have met the standard of 100 percent serenity and constant joy.
At this rate, I'd take 50 percent serenity and occasional joy. But I did see a rainbow this morning, and I wasn't hungover, so I could appreciate it. That's got to be worth something.
At this rate, I'd take 50 percent serenity and occasional joy. But I did see a rainbow this morning, and I wasn't hungover, so I could appreciate it. That's got to be worth something.
Thursday, February 19, 2009
The Wednesday Women Winos Club
Many of us women alcoholics are veterans of the "Bunco culture." Or as I prefer to call it, "Drunco." Bunco is a sort of suburban phenomenon that revolves around a dozen or so ladies playing an inane dice game. The game is a lot more fun when wine, cosmos, apple-tinis or even tequila is served. I never lied to myself -- my Bunco nights were about getting together with other women, letting down our hair, and HAVING FUN.
The group I belonged to was made up of moms from the elementary school. Most of us had kids around the same age -- in fact, the group started when our oldests were Kindergarten-age. They are now juniors in high school. A few years ago, we all sort of got bored with Bunco, and tried "Ladies Night Out" instead. Then, we morphed into a book group. We are supposed to read a book each month, then the hostess cooks a dinner based on the book. Wine and other alcohol is served, but the tone is much more sedate than those Bunco days. I never feel uncomfortable NOT drinking at these evenings as much as I did on those rare occasions when I did not drink at Bunco.
Still, I am feeling like I don't have as much in common with these old friends as I used to. People change and grow apart, but I realize what I felt was that strange affliction of being lonely even when you are in a crowd. None of these ladies -- no matter how long we'd known each other -- truly understood what I was going through.
So, last fall I had an inspiration. Why not get together a group of ladies who are in recovery to do a book club? To my astonishment, people thought it was a good idea, too. Last month, about eight of us ladies from the Friday meeting at St. John Vianney started our own book club. The idea was not to read "sanctioned" AA literature, but books that somehow dealt with recovery and spiritual growth. I got to pick the first book: "Drinking: A Love Story," by Caroline Knapp. Last night, we met at Stephanie's to "talk" about the book. As is typical in most book clubs, we did a lot of talking, and about 25 percent of it was about the book.
But that's okay. That was the intention. It's great to get together socially, and I am realizing that I might not need booze after all to have a good time with other women -- or people in general. When I started playing Bunco 10 years ago, not only did I need alcohol, but I needed that community of other moms. We were navigating parenthood together, and the support we received from each other as our children grew up was invaluable. Now, my needs have changed, and I am so grateful that I seemed to have found another community that is helping ME grow up.
Next book: "Traveling Mercies," by Anne Lamott.
The group I belonged to was made up of moms from the elementary school. Most of us had kids around the same age -- in fact, the group started when our oldests were Kindergarten-age. They are now juniors in high school. A few years ago, we all sort of got bored with Bunco, and tried "Ladies Night Out" instead. Then, we morphed into a book group. We are supposed to read a book each month, then the hostess cooks a dinner based on the book. Wine and other alcohol is served, but the tone is much more sedate than those Bunco days. I never feel uncomfortable NOT drinking at these evenings as much as I did on those rare occasions when I did not drink at Bunco.
Still, I am feeling like I don't have as much in common with these old friends as I used to. People change and grow apart, but I realize what I felt was that strange affliction of being lonely even when you are in a crowd. None of these ladies -- no matter how long we'd known each other -- truly understood what I was going through.
So, last fall I had an inspiration. Why not get together a group of ladies who are in recovery to do a book club? To my astonishment, people thought it was a good idea, too. Last month, about eight of us ladies from the Friday meeting at St. John Vianney started our own book club. The idea was not to read "sanctioned" AA literature, but books that somehow dealt with recovery and spiritual growth. I got to pick the first book: "Drinking: A Love Story," by Caroline Knapp. Last night, we met at Stephanie's to "talk" about the book. As is typical in most book clubs, we did a lot of talking, and about 25 percent of it was about the book.
But that's okay. That was the intention. It's great to get together socially, and I am realizing that I might not need booze after all to have a good time with other women -- or people in general. When I started playing Bunco 10 years ago, not only did I need alcohol, but I needed that community of other moms. We were navigating parenthood together, and the support we received from each other as our children grew up was invaluable. Now, my needs have changed, and I am so grateful that I seemed to have found another community that is helping ME grow up.
Next book: "Traveling Mercies," by Anne Lamott.
Wednesday, February 18, 2009
"Househunters International, Cocktail Edition"
When my husband was off work in December after a hernia operation, he lured me into a destructive hobby: Watching "Househunters" and "Househunters International" on HGTV. He even deigned to wake me up one night to announce "Honey, we're moving to Costa Rica."
I love the show, but there is one aspect of it that bothers me. It seems as if every couple who looks at one of the featured homes strolls out onto a deck or patio and announces, "This will be great to hang out on and have a glass of wine or cocktail."
What -- do you have to drink wine to own a patio or deck? Why is drinking symbolic of relaxing and having fun? Certainly I never learned to relax or have fun without drinking, which I guess is why this aspect of human nature bothers me. And it is the hardest to overcome.
My world glorifies drinking. How many times have I heard "Let's get together -- and I'll bring the wine"? Or, "What a hard day -- is it time for a glass of wine?" Every single invitation my husband and I receive is to an occasion to which copious drinking will occur. These guys are 40-50 years old! Why do they have to get drunk every weekend?
It's not that I begrudge people who drink, it's just that I hate how important drinking is in my world. It makes it a lot tougher when you choose not to.
I love the show, but there is one aspect of it that bothers me. It seems as if every couple who looks at one of the featured homes strolls out onto a deck or patio and announces, "This will be great to hang out on and have a glass of wine or cocktail."
What -- do you have to drink wine to own a patio or deck? Why is drinking symbolic of relaxing and having fun? Certainly I never learned to relax or have fun without drinking, which I guess is why this aspect of human nature bothers me. And it is the hardest to overcome.
My world glorifies drinking. How many times have I heard "Let's get together -- and I'll bring the wine"? Or, "What a hard day -- is it time for a glass of wine?" Every single invitation my husband and I receive is to an occasion to which copious drinking will occur. These guys are 40-50 years old! Why do they have to get drunk every weekend?
It's not that I begrudge people who drink, it's just that I hate how important drinking is in my world. It makes it a lot tougher when you choose not to.
So it Begins
About eight years ago, I came to the realization that I had a problem with drinking. So started a nearly decade-long struggle to quit drinking -- which didn't work. Every time I quit I got bored, and it didn't fit my lifestyle. Or so I thought. But then, neither did throwing up at PTA fundraisers, passing out at my own parties, and driving impaired with my kids in the car. So I've battled, and 15 months ago I embarrassed myself in front of my kids -- scared them silly, actually -- and had my Come to Jesus moment (thanks to my next door neighbor Amy for that allusion). So far, so good, but I must say that living as a non-drinker in a drinking world is extremely difficult. And it makes me really pissed off sometimes. So even though I am a card-carrying member of Alcoholics Anonymous, I still need to work on that serenity business sometimes.
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