It has been four years since I quit drinking. I almost forgot about the date, which says something.
The first year was about getting through it. I was incredibly busy during this time: moving, getting ready to sell the old house, selling it, new work issues. I thought about it a lot during this time, but with so much else going on my mind was preoccupied, and it helped.
Year two was about it becoming more normal. I went on my first vacations without it and found them more enjoyable than I could have imagined. I tested myself a few times and found I didn't crave it, but felt totally out of place in social situations where most people were enjoying it. The upside to those situations was much less in the way of social blunders, and those that I did make were likely remembered by nobody but myself. Two years felt like a real milestone.
In year three, things were becoming more normal. I still often thought about it on hot summer days or boring winter afternoons. But there was no reason to really look back.
And, now it is four years and at times I'm forgetting about it. Things are so normal without it that I can't imagine restarting life in that trajectory.
There are two vignettes from well-written books I often recall. The first is from Neil Steinberg's Drunkard. He recalls terrible traffic on his way to an AA meeting and giving up on getting there. Instead, he turns into a liquor store and buys a bottle of Jack. What is telling about this is that this isn't a compulsion, but a necessity. It was as if he was preordained to do this. When I think about this, I know life's events are uncontrollable enough to push things in any direction. A while back I was driving a route that I have taken for years and thought that if it was five years ago, I undoubtedly would have taken a slightly different route to a store with a sizable selection of great off-shore and micro brews, likely dropping quite a bit of money for an extended weekend. I laughed at the thought, and never even considered not pointing my vehicle toward home.
The other bit comes from Pete Hammil's A Drinking Life. At the end of the book, he briefly examines his new reality with the poet Joel Oppenheimer who had also recently quit. Oppenheimer is quoted as saying, "You won't have as much fun, but the fun will really be fun." (emphasis added - I think). I originally read the word really as in the adverb very, the fun will be much more extreme fun. I now see this as word as the adjective "not artificial" which has a completely different but much more lasting meaning. The fun will be true. I may not be as interesting without it, and I know sometimes things can be more boring without it. But, I have more time in my life than ever before for things that are really interesting. It is too easy with several beers to sit in front of the TV for a couple hours. It is much more possible to do things that make life truly interesting without imbibing first.
More recently on a cross-country trip in a four-wheeled vehicle I listened to David Sedaris' When you are Engulfed in Flames on CD. In this book he talks about going to the extreme of moving to Japan for a few months so as to quit smoking. Simultaneously, he quits drinking as for him the two went together. He describes one conversation where someone talks not about quitting, but finishing.
I related to this analogy. With apologies to Joel Oppenheimer, I had lots of fun while drinking. But, perhaps there was a set quantity I should have in my life, and maybe, hopefully I've reached it. It is time to move on.
The second half of the title of this blog post is "Taking a Break." No, this doesn't mean I'm taking a break from not drinking. I have some ideas I want to look toward which may consume most of the time I often spend at the keyboard. This may last a few weeks, or potentially much longer. Taking a cue from Poet Oppenheimer, I want to pursue something which has the potential to be really interesting. It may not be and there is every chance that it will only last a few weeks, meaning that the nobody who never reads this will never not notice.
At least I can now take the chance to try. We'll see...
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