Happy Thanksgiving, friends.
Needless to say–but I’ll say it anyway–I’m so very grateful to have found this community, and to be a part of it. Just last night, I was feeling low, wondering things like, What’s the point of being festive without wine? Silly, and almost ridiculous after nearly 18 months of getting sober (and on Day 255 today of continuous sobriety), isn’t it? Maybe not.
I got some great insight from so many of your blogs, but the main thing I took away was to simply own my holiday. So what, I didn’t feel like going out last night to the first party of the season? I accepted it (after feeling bad about not wanting to go), didn’t overly dwell on how it related or not to my being sober, and prepared for today: friends in town, a new dress, a green bean salad, and homemade sorrel tea (my beverage contribution to the dinner we’re going to). I mean, I have SO many things that I didn’t have, let’s say, two years ago, it’s almost funny. Come on, at least I HAVE a dinner to go to, a dress to wear, and a body to put it on that isn’t being dragged around by my big, hung over head full of self-hatred. Yeah, there’s that.
I don’t know, I guess just owning my holiday is how I’m going to approach this season. I own my fun, my desire to socialize or not, my choice as to how I perceive all the “should’s” that go along with the holidays. I GET to own it, is the thing; now that I’m sober, I have a choice in everything. I don’t have to do what I don’t want, or what seems fishy or makes me feel weird. When I was drinking, nothing ever really felt right–especially my choices. Now, it feels like getting to choose what really makes me feel OK is what I can’t wait for, not the wine that made this all impossible to see clearly.
I can’t wait to see my old friends at the airport today–for many, many years, it was me going to them, and I’m glad that someone is actually coming to me this year.
I can’t wait to eat a HUGE fucking feast, and not feel too full because of all the wine I drank.
I can’t wait to watch others–yeah, I’m still in that place, but hey, it helps–get drunk and be out of control, compelled to drink more; and have it NOT BE ME. I am in control of my choice, and I choose freedom. At least for tonight, and the rest of the weekend. Whew, isn’t that a relief, too, to already have made the decision to remain sober? Now, I have the luxury of worrying about other stuff, like *everything worth worrying about.*
I can’t wait to put on my new red dress, and I don’t know, appreciate the color, the feel, and the fact that it’ll look almost as pristine after going out as before. I can’t wait to be that girl in the red dress who doesn’t “over-share,” or get sloppy, or get sweaty-headed (you know, that red, sweaty look you get when you’re drinking?). For so many years, I worried about people judging me for being too uptight (I was, I am, I own this now; I am guarded, and shy-ish), and so I drank and the pendulum swung HUGELY back in the opposite direction. I can’t wait to be controlled, to be direct, to stare at someone who is drinking and not flinch, apologetically look away, or make excuses for not imbibing. You can be you, but I’m gonna be me, mmkay? Here. Solid. Steadfast. Sober. And, fucking FUN to talk to for once–because I can carry on a coherent conversation. Shit, I can’t wait to be the “mom” to your 13-year-old tween. HA!
I can’t wait to wake up tomorrow and not have taken the security elevator in a blackout, not to have vomited on the “vomit shirt” that I won, not to have said or done something horrible to a stranger, not to have a blurred recollection of the yummy food I just devoured, literally mindlessly.
I could go on, but you get the picture.
Own it, people.