I didn’t choose to be sober, actually. It kinda just happened at first. Save for the one night of wine and pizza with a very good friend, I just wasn’t drinking in the evenings. I was too tired when I got home from play rehearsal to stay up long enough to finish a glass of wine. I was too broke to choose to spend money on drinks out at the bar. So being sober kinda stumbled upon me.
But once I realized I wasn’t drinking, I didn’t feel compelled to start. I felt good most of the time. I was processing things and feeling things, and letting it all wash over me and through me. I wasn’t denying anything, I was accepting the reality and not glossing over it.
When I thought back to previous breakups where I spent evenings drinking with girlfriends and drinking alone. I would have a glass of wine a day, which isn’t really qualifying me to a status that people would worry. But a glass of wine a day is enough to start to feel numb. And you could look forward to that numbness. Or, if you knew you needed a good cry, you could pour a slightly bigger glass of wine and watch Love Actually and have a damn good cry. And I felt like those breakups took forever to get through. I dwelled and fixated, and denied the reality of it all. And I used wine to loosen up enough so I could jump back into dating before I was really ready.
This time, none of that. No nonsense. And I found that when I let myself just feel the feelings, it didn’t last that long. It was bearable. Sure the pain was excruciating for a short while, but then I got to the other side. And it was clear. Like, sun rising across a field of wild, tall grass kind of clear.
I drank tea in the evenings, and coffee all day long. And a lot of water, because I hear that’s really good for you. And I recently started drinking again. I didn’t stay away for long, it wasn’t really my intention to never drink again. And I’m not going to profess amazing changes in the way I notice what alcohol does to my mind and body (except I noticed I actually do have a harder time waking up after having even just one glass of wine).
And it’s funny, because now I am remembering that part of why I got dumped was he wanted to figure things out, one of which was why he was drinking so much again. I hope he figured that out. I genuinely mean that.
I’m not saying I recommend this for everyone as a blanketed cure all for breakups. But for me it was good, it was necessary, it was exactly what I needed. I can talk through things with a clear head and you know what I am NOT doing this time around? I’m not ruminating and whining. And thank god, because I am no fun to be around when I have something stuck on my mind, especially something that makes me weepy and whiny.
Now that I am past that part of the healing process- no whining, no crying- I can have two glasses of wine and keep my wits about me. I can enjoy happy hour with fresh squeezed orange crushes and not mope! So, I’m heading out to the bar for happy hour tomorrow- who’s buying?