The Reason Why I Drink

 

This is a messy answer, and one that I could spend weeks, months, even years trying to understand.  The funny thing is, the answer to this question changes as we grow, as our needs evolve, as life's challenges appear and disappear.  For now, the reason I drink is because I have no reason not to.  I have no job or passion to get up for in the morning.  I have no career to be proud of.  I have no purpose.  I used to.  Teaching was my passion, my drive, my source of excitement.  It was my identity until I crashed and burned last Fall.  Burn out is real and it's a bitch.  I'm sure I do have a purpose, its just buried under booze.  Annie Grace talks about guardrails keeping people on track with their drinking.  Maybe that's true, but I don't like the sound of that.  Guardrails sound like safety nets or protectors against a great evil.  Or like the bumpers for beginners in a bowling alley.  But alcohol isn't a great evil; it's simply an addictive substance behaving like addictive substances do.  End of story.  Having something to get up for in the morning is not the same as metal fences along the edge of a highway protecting you from going over the edge.  There are too many people who have plenty of reasons not to go over the edge but do so anyway.  Ever hear of a functioning alcoholic?  A person who "looks like she has it all together on the outside?'  I will say, I love the idea of building a life I no longer want to escape from.  That sounds bigger and bolder than the dented metal fences on the highway.

Which brings me to the reason why I drink.  Fear.  I'm afraid of seeing the truth.  I'm afraid of realizing I'm an unemployed, no-insurance, asking-for-a-weekly-allowance-from-my-husband, 47 year old woman.  This is just part of it; this is just a facet of my reason why.  Back to fear.  I'm afraid this is it; this is life and you have kids, they grow up and move out and on and you hope they come and visit from time-to-time.  It's a life where you work to retire and hope you can live comfortably and you don't get terminally sick before you can retire and at least have a good decade of travel in you because there's a whole world out there to explore.  It's a life where my god, I have to work hard to see the little pieces of good, the glimmers, between the news of wars, dying children and heinous politicians, racism, ignorance, arrogance, and greed.  Of trying so hard to see the good in people because that's a hell of a lot more comfortable than recognizing all the bad.  Of feeling other people's feels and absorbing it all, the energy, good and bad, the negativity.  And waking up one day with the crushing weight of the question, "Do I love him?"  I don't know, maybe I'm PMSing or maybe I'm having a bad day while adjusting to the antidepressant.  (I really look forward to seeing how well this little happy pill makes me feel when I'm not flushing it out with beer.)

Humans have two motivations, to seek pleasure and avoid pain.  Alcohol does both.  It gives us pleasure and it helps us avoid pain.  The funny thing is that it is also the main source of that pain.  It's like the skeevy salesman who creates a problem and sells the solution.  It's like big pharma or politics.  Oh my god, alcohol is a politician.  Hah!  Or the mastermind marketer who conditions you into believing you have a sleep problem then sells you a $1500 mattress.  You have a sleep problem because you're up all night watching TikTok.  Or if you're like me, playing Yahtzee on your phone stimulating your brain with every colorful roll hoping the word YAHTZEE blazes across your screen.  Who cares that it's 2am.  

I like to keep things simple.  I believe the truth lies in the simplest form of any issue/problem/obstacle.  And here's the simple truth:  I started drinking to fit in back in the 90s.  Alcohol fixed everything until it didn't and now I use it as a crutch.  I'm going through a major transition in my life so I've amped up my consumption because it's comfortable, even when I have horrendous anxiety, it's familiar.  I know exactly what to expect.  The simple truth: it's what I know.

I stayed on track with my tapering schedule last night, plus an extra 4oz or wine.  My face turned bright red and my eyes were extra gritty this morning.  I know I have a slight allergy to wine and most of the time I don't like the taste, but my brain is in a flurry knowing that this is coming to an end soon.  It's stuck in a scarcity mindset.  My brain is a hoarder and it's time to clean house or let the whole thing burn.  

Let's make it a Yahtzee kind of day.