Another year of sobriety is in the books. January 2022 marks the 17th anniversary of my liberation from alcohol. You can read about my bottle kicking story in the Cranial Circus entry Twelve , which I wrote in 2017. Five years after sharing my journey, I find myself in a very different frame of mind. While I have maintained my sobriety, I find myself questioning why I continue to commit to my teetotaling lifestyle.
Being a Role Model
Being a strong role model for my children was one the main reasons I reached out to God for his infinite mercy and assistance in delivering me from alcohol. Not only did I want to be a good role model, I also wanted to be sure I was making decisions with a clear head. Being able to react with a clear mind was important, especially if an emergency occurred.
I cherish memories. Remembering every little moment of my children’s lives wasn’t going to be possible with the mind wiping powers of whisky and gin. My kids deserved better. It’s hard to wear the “Super Dad” cape when you’re stumbling over the shag carpet.
Just a Man
Now my children have grown older. The older they get, the more mortal I have become. The days of them seeing their dad as a superhero are long gone. Now they know the truth. I’m just a flawed and fractured human being with a heap of sorrow and flaws mixed in with some good ideas and a few chuckles here and there. I’m incredibly imperfect and maybe I’m not always correct either.
Well, hell, the secrets out. I’ve just been winging this parenting thing like everybody else. I can’t even think of the last time my input was even needed for anything.
Mr. Collins & the Wagon
Would a nip here or there really alter things drastically? A little late night Tom Collins with a few comedy clips on television might be just the ticket for me to adjust to this next chapter.
Certainly my marriage wouldn’t be helped or hindered by a few drinks. At this stage in the game, a lot of ships have sailed. There ‘t aren’t a whole lot of unchartered waters left to explore. In reality, my wife and I are two battleships are firmly anchored in the our respective ports.
Jumping off this wagon is something that keeps running through my head. The biggest problem I’m finding is it seems like the only thing stopping me is that I don’t want to be a failure or a fraud.
I have been overjoyed every time January comes around because it means I made it another year. I have shared my experiences with several people over the years in order to help them know that I was an ally in their own booze battle.
Slipping Away
I have been sober so long that I have rarely thought about grabbing another drink until recently. There are too many times where I have felt like I could just slip away, grab that buzz and no one would notice. Why am I trying so hard to avoid a simple drink? What am I currently fighting for?
I made the mistake of bringing up my current dilemma to a loved one who, historically, has always been there for me. This person has slayed a million monsters with me over the years. We’ve wiped away oceans of tears and shared a billion wonderful moments.
Unfortunately, instead of talking me off the ledge with an empathetic heart to heart conversation, I was met with stock religious recitation that had all the warmth and originality of the brochure wavers that used to shout at us when we were standing in line at a Bon Jovi concert back in 1986.
Not My Goth
Seventeen years ago Jesus lead me into sobriety. Skull rings, vampire stories and Vincent Price movies never kept the Lord from working a million miracles in my lifetime. No, The Munsters and Bela Lugosi aren’t the heavies here. They aren’t the reason why my hand fondly remembers the cold beads of water rolling down the side of a highball glass.
Some folks try to find deep meaning in the shallow water. That’s a whole different topic for another time. When I do write that Cranial Circus entry, it will probably bend some folks out of shape, but heck, some people need to get bent.
Friend-Hab
A dear friend of mine recently came out of rehab. I’ve always been worried that he was spiraling out of control with his alcohol abuse. He lived a very private hell. I really feared that he would have to be near death in order to find his, “rock bottom”, “wake up call” “final straw” or whatever cliché fits. So now he’s been kicking ass and staying sober. He’s really turned his life around. I pray he will continue to keep it together.
Here I am, thinking about stepping out of 17 years of not drinking, when my friend is in the infancy of the new awakening we call “sobriety”. Man that’s some messed up stuff isn’t it? One dude is fighting for a new chapter, and the other guy is thinking about copying a couple of lines from previous pages and disguising them as new plot twists.
When I committed to a sober lifestyle I stopped doing a lot of things in order to be more focused. I avoided scenarios that might cause me to drink. I haven’t been to a live music club in 16 of my 17 sober years. That’s really odd considering I am part of the music community in my town. I miss live music clubs. Yes, I’m the friend that always wants to “check out your band” but my commitment to sobriety keeps me from going to your show. Thank you for inviting me.
I don’t have any regrets about giving up socializing. The experiences I gained were far better than any bar room. I really just wanted to be home. That’s where everything was focused. Things were clearer. It was my refuge. Home was the place where I mattered the most. Everyone depended on me in some manner.
Sunday
Sunday Mass was the pinnacle of my week. Any lingering brain rattling echoes of the corporate grind were silenced when I celebrated Mass with my family. I was trying to provide guidance and direction for my family, while gaining strength from being in the presence of the Lord. They needed to know that God’s love is real and present in their lives.
After Mass we’d either go on some sort of family excursion or come back to the house for anything from movie marathons, football games, Sunday dinner, gaming or a myriad of other things. Sure, every weekend wasn’t “Family Fun Night”. There were homework assignments, projects, and house cleaning.
There were plenty of wasted opportunities along the way. Big families have a way of providing everyone plenty of chances to ruin “family time” for everyone else. Regrettably, I blew my fair share of those days. We lived, we learned and we moved on.
?
Now things are so much different. That’s part of the natural order when the years roll by. Things change. People age. It’s all askew. There used to be a reason and a purpose behind everything I did or didn’t do.
When I ask myself, “What is your reason for not having a drink?” I don’t have an answer. The answer I would have given just a couple of years ago, is no longer valid. Therein lies the problem. I don’t have an answer.
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