My personal relationship with alcohol lasted 36 years. I got drunk for the first time when I was eleven. I had a hangover on the day after Thanksgiving in 1982. My parents had no idea why I was sick and sluggish during Black Friday shopping. It continued off and on into middle school, with me getting drunk in the morning before typing class. High school started and I earned the name Hangover Helen.
By the time I was 21 and could drink legally, the novelty was well worn off and I didn't drink much anymore. I could go years without more than a drink or two with dinner, or a glass of wine now and then. But every now and then I would take things a little too far and have 2 martinis, which would lead to another, because why not?
Like all of those who like to party, I would do foolish things that I could barely remember the next morning, if I remembered at all. There were catastrophic consequences and damages to personal relationships. But then I would lay off the booze for awhile and eventually resume my 2 drink maximum in social situations. That's fine and all, until it isn't.
Stress is a good excuse for drinking, right? Last fall my dad was diagnosed with terminal throat cancer. That news was particularly difficult for me. My world had just been rocked by a seismic event. My dad has everything to do with who I am. Facing the prospect of losing him wasn't something I could cope with easily. So I had a glass of wine, then another, then another. I don't remember anything after that. The next morning I was faced with the news of how poorly I behaved. I felt a shame like no other binge before. Not only was my slovenly drinking a bad decision, but alcohol was the main cause of my dad's throat cancer. I felt like such an idiot.
Then I made a decision that has always eluded me before. I would never drink again. That was 365 days ago today. I have been sober for a full calendar year. That is something that I've never done. I didn't make a plan or attend any meetings, even though I know those things are helpful to a lot of people. I simply didn't want my daughter to ever see me like that again. And I felt it was a poor way to honor my father who is suffering from years of drinking.
Those two things alone were a solid base. But what helped me the most was my spiritual practice of self-healing through shamanism. Later that month, I participated a shamanic workshop in Death and Dying. One of the shamanic journeys we did was a shamanic dismemberment. In this journey you ask your power animal to take you apart down to the bone, then put you back together leaving out that which no longer serves you. I asked my power animal to rebuild me, and leave out the desire for alcohol. He most certainly did.
I've made it through holidays, birthdays, celebrations of all kinds, and certainly some of the most stressful trials of my life. And I've made it through with no alcohol. My power animal and my guides have helped, but the truth is that I've done the work. I've chosen healthier coping skills, and healthier expressions of celebration.
I can still be present when others are having a drink and that's totally fine with me. I really thought it would be harder than it is, but I've realized that I've gained so much more than I've lost.
Happy sobriety to me! <lifts a glass of Pellegrino> Here's to the rest of my life!
(For more information on shamanism and the shamanic journey, see previous posts)
