So, first up, THANK YOU, friends, for talking me down from the ledge. This afternoon, I got over myself and poured it out. The bottle of red that I hurriedly picked up on my way home from a frustrating AA meeting last night, that is.
I poured it down the kitchen sink, but I was going to do it over the toilet. However, I don’t hold grudges (Yellow Tail didn’t intentionally hurt me, so I have to show her (it’s a her) some respect.).
The funny thing is, I video recorded it on my phone! Haha. Me. I was going to post it here for all to see and laugh at, but I can’t seem to upload it via WordPress’s media library. Oh, well. In short, it was of me, tipping the bottle over the sink and saying, “Buh-bye.” Twice. “Buh-bye.” Don’t let the door hit your ass on the way out!
Whew. I’m over it. Like many people said in their comments to my post last night, getting drunk is simply not worth it. I’ve got 5 weeks as of today, and damn it, it just doesn’t help to drink. It doesn’t work. And, it’s not going to change anything — except to make it worse, because one glass leads to one bottle leads to two bottles leads to…you get the gist. Most importantly, in order to get past this obsession, I need to learn to sit with it. “It” being my bad feelings, my frustration, my cravings/desire to drink. My want. That is what I’m working on simply accepting. And, like I shared in a meeting tonight, paradoxically, when I accept my wanting to drink, it’s easier to deal with it.
Work the muscle. Practice makes perfect.
A strange concept hit me when I was pouring the wine down the drain, strange in that it was the first time I actually conceptualized the fact that wine is not what I want! It is a substance, like any other. And, that it is ONLY that, a substance — external and separate. As I watched my hand through the camera, I realized just how separate wine is from me. How impersonal. It holds my projections, but alone, it means nothing. It could have been red paint, or red gasoline, or red hydrochloric acid.
At that moment, having dramatically separated myself from the bottle, I realized that I didn’t want to DRINK the wine, I wanted to INGEST it. Like, I wanted to bring it toward my heart, cradle it on the inside. It’s interesting to me that our physical hunger and our emotions are tied up in the same neurons in our brain, the same place. Ancient structures control basic needs and essential feelings. So, does my heart hurt, or does my stomach feel empty? It’s quite hard to tell, and maybe it’s both. Do I drink wine, especially, because it fills my empty stomach or my aching heart — or, my aching stomach and my empty heart?
I have known this emotional hunger; Caroline Knapp wrote a must-read book that floored me when I first read it. Drinking: A Love Story hits the nail on the head — and is written with so much eloquence. Booze is a friend, a lover to some. The attachment to your substance of choice is not simply physical, it is emotional. I think what makes it even harder to detach — cut the cord, as one of my friends used to say — from booze is that you’re consuming it. You’re drinking wine and swallowing beer. You’re not inhaling it, or putting it into your veins.
So, anyway, I dumped the wine. A split second moment of sadness and then, relief. Moving on…
I had a great day today, which started at 7 with a swim at the beach! My boyfriend gave me flowers, and I got assigned a bunch of work, which is a direct result of me proactively seeking it out (from my current editors and “co-workers”). Which makes me realize, again, how I need to be more proactive in a LOT of areas in my life.
So, it’s obviously not all bad. I can breathe, and I have four limbs and a healthy fear of aliens. Duh, life is pretty amazing. Still, I can get caught up in my own head and lose perspective. I’ll leave you with one big reason I have to be grateful: my location. I have to keep reminding myself that yes, I deserve this…