This weekend we will be on a lake.
I heard an interview by the band Old Dominion about their new song titled,
“I Was On A Boat That Day”.
It’s a super fun song and I love Old Dominion’s music.
They said they were drinking when they recorded it because they wanted it to sound free and loose, like the meaning of the song.
I totally get that.
I love that too.
It gives me a jolt.
I want that kind of two beer buzz they talk about in the country songs.
This could give me a strong craving because...
I want that all summer long, but let me tell you…
...alcohol didn’t do this for me.
Maybe for one second I felt the loose, free feeling...
...but it was always followed by heart palpitations, worry, and insecurity.
I wasn’t really loose.
I was acting loose and inhibited because I had something to blame it on = alcohol.
What do you do on the weekends when you are sober?
Isn’t it boring?
It’s relaxing, productive, and fulfilling.
I had no idea how to spend my time when I first quit drinking.
I was antsy, irritated, and annoyed.
Alcohol had removed my ability to find pleasure in anything but alcohol.
For the first time in a long time, this weekend I had few plans and obligations.
I thought this would be a perfect example of what a “normal” weekend looks like.
Saturday I woke up early and had coffee with my husband,
in our quiet living room, while the kids sleep in.
I welcome the spring sun and the bird song, in the morning these days.
I had gotten in a habit of sleeping in during the dark, winter season.
I prefer an earlier rising, so I am happy to wake up early without an alarm, even on a weekend.
It starts my day off right.
I welcome the day, instead of curse the day, because (Hallelujah!) I am not hungover.
One of the greatest gifts of sobriety, for me, has been the ability to feel joy.
This may sound silly, as alcohol is sold as a rip roaring good time.
I had some good times in my drinking days.
The good times, however, were often clouded by my own shame and fear.
Now that I am sober, I have re-learned how to feel childlike joy in everyday moments.
While drinking, I grew to be afraid of joy.
It was like if I acknowledged feeling joy, then it would be taken away.
If I looked at my kids sleeping and felt overwhelming gratitude and love for them, it was immediately replaced with “what could go wrong?”
I was afraid to be ok, happy, content.
It was easier to complain, than to recognize that in this moment, all is well.
We aren’t supposed to feel happiness.
Who do we think we are?
It felt like bragging to say,
“things are good, I am happy, healthy, lucky...hashtag blessed!”
It was as if there is only so much of...