I quit drinking 40 days
ago, though at the time I didn’t know it. A month or so earlier, I had started to see a counselor, not
because of the drinking, but because I was feeling crazy. I didn't think I
could go on as I was. While I was at it--more or less in the spirit of
expecting a medal for my honesty--I mentioned that I was drinking too much, and
that I should probably try to get a handle on that. No mention of quitting
there. Just needing some help, that's all. But after a few weeks talking to the
new counsellor, I was getting decidedly uncomfortable. I was talking about the
same things, having the same problems, making no changes. Simply by telling
this woman what was going on, I could see it differently. I needed to make a
change.
Even though I didn’t think
booze was my biggest problem, I decided to give it up for a week, which
extended to a month, then 100 days, and finally for good. It's still only 40
days, but I am not really looking at end times anymore. I don't want to go
back. Ever. But because I was going to meet my counsellor again today, after a long break, I thought about what
had changed over the 40 days.
One big thing is perspective. (I mentioned before that I'm
studying psychology, and I'm especially interested in theoretical work dealing
with the dialogical self and perspective exchange. If anyone wants academic
refs, ask and I'll send them along. I won’t use them here, and I'll do my best
to stay away from the academic jargon.)
Stepping outside the immediate moment and seeing yourself from
a different point of view is one of the keys to human agency. Being able to see
things from multiple perspectives allows people to think about
things--problems, ideas, habits, whatever--from more than one angle.
Integrating those perspectives into new thinking is part of how we form identity.
Whether we are aware of that happening or not, it’s how we become who we are. You
become you by integrating the voices of the surrounding culture--parents,
teachers, friends, ads, the whole kit. That’s the theory.
Part of the work that needs doing is to be aware, to really hear those
voices, separate them out from each other, and question each one. As in, is
what I’m thinking is what I really think, or is just something I’ve accepted
unthinkingly because that’s what we do as people? And that’s what I’ve been
doing.
The first thing I noticed was that I looked forward to
drinking a lot more than I enjoyed drinking. That was a revelation! I might
spend a good part of the day really keen on the wine I planned to have that
evening, but almost all the pleasure was in the anticipation, and the rest was
in that first few minutes. (No use denying that there was some. There was.) I
didn’t know what to do with that right away, but I noticed it.
Second thing was, I actually enjoyed the no-booze drinks I
was making more than I enjoyed wine. It’s true! I tried lots of different
things, usually with sparkling water in there somewhere, and they really did
taste better. Also, I felt better.
I read lots and thought lots, and before too long I started
to wonder, what if I was wrong about wine? What if it’s overrated? Now that’s
not a familiar line of thinking for me. It was a point of view I’d never
considered, I guess. After a while, there was no mistaking it. I didn’t miss
drinking all that much. I liked the rituals of eating, and drinking something
special along with that, but I still had all that. Mostly, I missed looking
forward to drinking. Is that messed up or what? It was like the old Tom Waits
line:
“the obsession’s in
the chasing,
not the apprehending,
the pursuit, you see, and never the arrest.”
OK, where am I going here? Perspective. Stepping outside
the moment to see what is going on behind the scenes. I used to think
mindfulness meant paying endless attention to myself, gazing fondly at my
navel, if I could find it in the soft folds of belly. That never seemed like it
was going to solve anything, and I’m far too curious about the world for my
belly fat to hold my attention for all that much time. But now I see it
differently. Mindfulness is about perspective. Living in the moment, yes, but
also questioning that moment. Stepping
outside the moment to try and see what cultural or family scripts I’m acting
out. Then asking, do they even make sense anymore?
Sometimes I’m wary of the way our culture talks about the
self. Introspection can go badly wrong if it doesn’t include a healthy dose of
getting outside the self and bringing some new stuff in, seeing if that works
any better than the old stuff. There must be some me in all this, but I think
it’s probably not some isolated, inner self trying to get away from the world. Maybe
the self is more like an active process, living and breathing and taking up
stories and casting off others, saying yes to this and no to that and seeing
how things go, then changing what’s not working. I’m not sure about any of
this. I’m just thinking here.
Anyway, that’s what I’ve been up to for 40 days. So far so
good. I feel a lot less like a messy pile of confusion and more like a whole
person. I’m a work in progress, like everyone else. But I’m working on it.
LOVING it!! what a wickedly positive, informative and thought provoking post. you a star xxx
ReplyDeleteThanks, Mrs D!
DeleteThat's just what I've been thinking about comfort: why we reach for what we do, and what voices are we listening to? I was obviously listening to the ones that didn't always have my best interests at heart. And it's still hard to clear the rubble to find my heart me: the one that really loves me. But I'm learnin' dangit! :)
ReplyDeleteGreat post. :)
Thanks, Amy. I've been thinking a lot about your recent posts. Trying to separate the real comfort from the fake, find out what's behind that "GIVE ME MORE" voice, it's not so easy, but it has to be done. I think you're onto something there, and I'm following in your footsteps.
Delete