"Do you think you have an addiction? To Alcohol?"
I pulled off my headband and backcombed my hair from the crown to my forehead to ease the itch the wool created. Now slightly matted, my hair was slick with sweat from breaking trail up the continuous hill. We were half way done our cross country ski which was a refuge from packing and cleaning: After two frantic months, we finally found a family to rent our place in Vanderhoof. Mike was confident they would be reliable to pay the bills, so we didn’t have to pay our own and someone else’s mortgage in Smithers, and I was content that they would treat our house like a home so we didn’t come back to a dumpster fire in two or so years.
Mike brushed the snow off a fallen down log and we sat down with our feet still clipped into our skies; I felt a bit like a penguin. I took off the day pack slung over my shoulder and reached for the water, hungrily swallowing the icy liquid. My headache had finally receded, a result of either too much or not enough caffeine.
“I feel better now that we went for a ski” Mike admitted. Finally, the cravings had subsided. Mike quite smoking a couple of weeks ago and although his easy going personality has returned after transforming into a very syndical and bitter human for the first three days of being smoke free, he was still easily agitated and his nicotine cravings appeared in the mornings and were triggered when he was stressed
He hadn't touched a smoke since and i couldn'tbe more proud. Getting a six month lease signed was a huge relief for all parties involved.
“I haven’t had cheesies in quite a few days” I responded. He looked at me and smirked. “Do you really think you’re addicted to cheesies?” they were my top five junk food favs.
“No, but I am addicted to caffeine.” and then mentioned the headache. And this is when he asked me about alcohol.
Our justification for not drinking in November stemmed from Mike quitting smoking. He thought his self control with cigarettes would falter if he were drinking. But, judging by the question he threw my way on that day we went skiing, I’m not sure if that’s the only reason.
In the past, we’ve openly spoke about close family members having an addiction to alcohol, weather it being a high functioning habit or an all encasing addiction, we would speak about it and tell the stories of how this influenced and impacted our very own childhoods and adult lives.
The majority of mine and Mike’s flights are when we are drinking. In fact, our very first fight was a blowout on a street in Vanderhoof surrounded by friends and liquor. Not my finest moment to say the least. I believe that when you are inebriated you are simply an enhanced version of yourself. To say that you did what you did because you were drunk, isn’t an excuse, but I do think I am less reasonable and have a tendency to lose my verbal filter, to the point of being cruel, when there is significant amounts of alcohol in my system. Mike and I have learned serious conversations cannot be had when beer is in hand. Talk of lifestyles, babies and beliefs are forbidden after a shot of fireball.
I have very addictive personally. we don’t have Netflix (or internet) because I would hermit away at home all weekend, binge watching episodes of Call the Midwife and Outlander (currently blogging at Tim Hortins)
I’ve learned quite a bit about myself and my relationship with alcohol in the last thirty days.
I was surprised how upfront and honest Mike was with his close friends and family about our sober November. He told them nonchalantly before we even started that weren’t partaking in any boozy affairs. I didn’t really mention it my friends until the conversation needed to be had, and this post is the most public and honest I’ve been. Alcohol is socially acceptable and so appropriate, if not encouraged, in public functions, I suppose I was expecting to be slighted or even ridiculed about taking a break and admitting that this has become a bit of a problem in my life and I need a reset. When we told Mike’s sister about our month long project, she nodded her head understandably and responded that she’s dislikes the mom-wine culture that is the latest trend in parenting. This isn’t something I want to be a part of when the time comes, and it was nice to hear her response in that she too is getting farther away from it. Other people responded with support and encouraging comments, often joking that they would drink on our behalf. When I admitted to friends that I wasn’t drinking in November, often they smiled knowingly and perhaps this was from their own relationship with liquor. I think my fear of vocalizing why I was taking a break from the beverages was simply me projecting my own judgement on how people perceived my sobriety.
Everyone says when you stop drinking you’re face gets less puffy, but mine actually filled out more. I looked less gaunt, even when my eyes were ringed with blue from a serious lack of sleep. It was a relief not to wake up lethargic and groggy with the remains of a messy night left sticky on the coffee table. New habits filled old habits and we drank more water, and Mike’s been working out with me quite regularly so in turn I’ve been even more active.
Hard conversations happened without the need of a liquid lubricant, and Mike and I proved this as we discussed the concept of moving to Smithers versus the actuality of following through on this. It wasn’t Mike’s idea or even on his life list, but he said he was game when I said Smithers was on mine. By design I placed a burden on my shoulders when I talked him into moving to Smithers, or I felt I did. As we had this conversation, tearful of course (us McNeil cry all the time) but completely sober, I revealed my fear that I talked him into this and felt like if this life choice was a fail, it was my failure alone. By ending my career at the mine and renting out the house, I made a huge leap of faith that impacted my life path, which isn’t something new, but for the first time ever I brought someone else along for the journey, and so I could potentially be fucking both of our lives. Mike countered that he felt this way with conversations and decisions that were being made in terms of our future beyond Smithers and Australia, plans that I had never desired prior to choosing him. And for the first time I understood this. Both of us are very stubborn and opinionated; so I am letting go of the idea that I as responsible for his happiness just as he had to be reminded he is not responsible for mine, if Smithers doesn’t make us happy, we will simply move on or move back.
I never directly answered Mike’s question. I know alcohol has been an aid to cope with stress, specifically work related stress these past few months, but also life stress, which in turn creates more problems specifically related to liquor and creates more stress. Alcohol will only commence when I’m in a state of celebratory bliss, or not at all. Also, as an incredibly sensitive person with heightened emotion, less is always more. I know the reset has allowed me a new perspective, in that not every occasion needs beverages, coffee or tea will suffice. I’ve learned conversations are harder to clarify when liquor is involved and often require further details the following morning. I’m also rarely taken seriously when I’m slurring. And as November transitions into December and snowboard season begins, surly a flask of fireball will appear and nothing tasted so good after splitting firewood than a cool Budweiser (unless it’s craft beer from a local brewery). For now, we are very aware that there is a fine line between high on life and hot mess in terms of want and need.
I love drunk me, but I don't trust her
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