Buy Me a Drank

#Addiction #Alcohol #Alcoholic #Choices #Divorce #SingleMom #Stress

So where do I start? Stress. We’ll start there, because I’m under a tremendous amount of it. There is something nudging inside of me. Now for the 3rd time over 2 decades I have this very strong desire to pick up a little something. How do I  eloquently put this? I need T-Pain to buy me a drank. Or at least that is the feeling that is subtly speaking to me from some inward place.


The reason that this is so strange for me is that I have never had a drink in my life. Ever. Not a real one that is. I can count on only two hands how many times I’ve had some fruity slushy thing with a pineapple slice on the top, and I would have fingers to spare. Yes it was laced with some special spirits but I have never had a hard drink. Never had anything over ice. Never had a shot of anything that would take misery away. Now before I go and sound all extra righteous or as if I operate with superpowers, let me say that the reason is not quite that noble. It’s truly out of fear of the unknown. Well maybe part fear, part wisdom.

You see my mother use to rely on a little something-something to get her through the day. She didn’t drink the heavy stuff, it was usually just beer, or every now and then there would be some pink cheap stuff sitting on the bottom shelf of the fridge. But she drank everyday, all day. Her father before her had a full bar built into his basement. It was the best hide and seek place. No one could find me if I nudged just right between the bottles as big as I, filled with bourbon and scotch. It’s funny how even then without having the words of what I was experiencing, I knew that I didn’t like that stuff. I didn’t like how the volume of voices grew as the drinks poured during those Spade and Bidwiz parties. I didn’t like attempting to sleep while breathing thick nicotine clouds in the air.  They always sent me to the ER with yet another Asthma attack. The parallel of alcohol and cigarettes would serve as the demise of the one who gave birth to me. It wasn’t until I was older, a bit into adulthood when I realized the negative effects that growing up with alcoholics had on me. That might be an obvious observance to some, for me it was less evident.

The alkies in my family weren’t raging lunatics. They were what Psychology 101 would call Functional  Alcoholics. I would guess that most who knew my mother and biological grandfather would be surprised that alcohol was even a factor. But there was always this undercurrent, always this restlessness. Finally admitting to myself that my mother had a drinking problem gave me a kind of liberation. All those times she was super mean to me wasn’t because of me, I can blame the beer, at least in part, and I’m off the hook. Now the key is communicating that logic to space in the center of my chest, still working on that one.

Fast forward to that drink I’ve been recently craving. It’s a desire, a real one… to something I’ve never really had. Now why is that? The first time I felt this way was about a year and a half ago. I had to pull over on the side of the road during a blurry drive as I approached my home. I couldn’t see through wells of water filling my eyes. The realities and pressures of single-mom-dum-to-special-needs-child, post-divorceness, and no-financial-emotional-supportsville hit me like a tidal wave. As I sat behind that steering wheel, as clear as day I heard these words in my head, “I need a drink!” In that flash of a moment I could smell alcohol. I mean I could actually smell it! Keep in mind I don’t drink, so what was up with this? I sat up, wiped my tears, realizing the turn of events before me. It’s funny to me know, I uttered these words out loud,

Oh no! You really are gonna be that obvious? You don’t want to be subtle or something? Devil if you’re going to tempt me, be more sly with it!

I started to denounce this desire, this craving I was having. I may not know alot of things but I do know what will not help a situation. Nancy Regan did a number on me, I dont want my brain on drugs, and in my case, that includes liquor. To this, I simply choose to just say no.

Today although I do feel the desire, I just choose not to go there.  Not that this choice is for every one but I must give credence to a struggle with something I never experienced myself. Imagine if I really started drinking for real. Who I could become, what bad decisions I could make. No thanks. No matter the pain I’m in I will not walk into something that will make that pain worse, even if there is some momentary relief from that pain.  I don’t want to walk through a door simply because those that went before me opened it. I cant escape from my problems but I do need to be sober to fight them. Almost really does count. Dodging a bullet is very effective, just ask the person who got hit by one.


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