Today is my 75th day without alcohol. That’s an amazing triumph for me. Prior to this period of sobriety the longest I can remember ever going without alcohol in my adult life was 10 days. I’ll get into the details of my alcohol story at a later time. For now I want to talk about my Saturday morning brunch.
We spontaneously decided to try out a fancy restaurant in our neighborhood that we’ve been meaning to try for years. There were a lot of open seats in the dining room, but the hostess advised there was only available seating in the bar. I scanned the room of empty tables feeling a bit annoyed, but agreed to sitting at the bar. So there I sat and ate my fancy brunch staring at bottles of hard liquor and wine on this 75th alcohol free day. My desire for alcohol has seriously diminished and it’s not too difficult to be around it, but I still wasn’t pleased to be staring at a booze wall for brunch. There are still moments I want to drink, but I think of it as poison now. Since I’ve had this time to distance myself from alcohol, my overall anxiety has dropped and I feel so much better about life even on the hard days. While I looked at the bottles, I thought of poison and high anxiety which made me happy to be sipping my tea instead.
I mentioned this being my 75th alcohol free day to my partner and there was silence. Umm…. Then he said he doesn’t count days, but couldn’t remember the last time he drank. He has always been someone that can take or leave alcohol, he has never drank much and doesn’t mind going without. That is the opposite of my story. Although I have definitely noticed that he drinks much less since I’ve quit.
He knows I am taking a break from alcohol, but I haven’t talked in depth to him about my journey. Mainly because he has told me I didn’t really have a problem, but in the past he had also told me I was on the edge of having a problem. A little frustrating contradiction there. While my problem was not devastating or enormous, it certainly wasn’t good and the path I was going down was leading toward a bad end.
I am glad he accepts that I am not drinking, but I wish he understood more of my challenges. I want him to be my cheerleader. But I know ultimately the work I need to do is personal and he can only cheerlead me as much as I will share with him. So it’s not all on him. It’s on me, too.