Rock Bottom or Launching Pad?



Was this weekend my rock bottom?  I don't know and I honestly don't think it matters.  For all I know, it was a launching pad into my beautiful future.  An ugly, messy, painful, and hurtful launching pad, but a solid step in the right direction.  It was a weekend where I ran away.  I saw, with such clarity, the chaos I was causing my family, particularly my 16-year-old son.  So I booked a local hotel room, grabbed an Uber, and disappeared for about 20 hours.  Not a very dignified Mom move.  I couldn't stand the anger and maybe fear in my son's eyes on Friday.  The disgust I felt for myself.  His words: "You're a fucking drunk."  Those words right there; they aren't me, they are alcohol.  Alcohol is the fucking drunk.  I know, it doesn't make much sense, but I'm not a fucking drunk.  I am a mother who is struggling, a woman who wants to return to herself, to nurture my children through their adolescent years, to love my husband authentically, regardless of how much he drinks.  I am my mother and father's daughter (god, I miss you, Papa), my sister's best friend.  I am a woman who loves deeply and probably feels a bit too much.  But this is who I am; an artist, a writer, a thinker and lover.  Maybe that's what this is all about.  Spending the majority of my life living too deep, surrounded by people that love me dearly but live more at the surface.  That's not a bad thing; I sometimes wish I could live more at the surface.  

I had plenty of time to think about alcohol yesterday.  I was laying in bed watching one bad movie after another, sipping teas and water and trying to keep the hangxiety at bay (yes, I did have a few beers to take the edge off).  This is what I've come to realize; booze is neutral.  It's not good nor bad.  It's a toxic substance that is highly addictive.  It's the stories I attach to it.  Stories I have developed over the years; it's evil if you drink too much, it's lovely when you are responsible, etc.  You know the stories.  We all have been fed these beliefs through families and friends, media, and movies.  But what it truly comes down to is that alcohol is simply a substance that has the power to make us sick, change our brain chemistry, or hate ourselves so much that we run away from our family for the night.    

What did I learn this weekend?  Well, I like being alone sometimes.  I will probably take myself away for a night or two again.  I just won't leave in such a dramatic way and hurt the ones I love the most.  I also learned that just because it feels like the rest of the world drinks (or maybe it's just my little world), doesn't mean that I'm broken if I choose not to.  I miss the bad-ass rebel I was when I quit for nearly 15 months a couple years ago.  I like her.  I miss her.  

Moving forward and moving on.  I may not have an alcohol free day under my belt yet, but man am I revving up!  

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