Who am I kidding? It’s not about the taste.
The last couple of months I’ve been inching myself toward full-blown sobriety. It’s been scary and exhilarating. But mostly it’s pushed me to really look at what I need to bring into my life to fill the hole that alcohol will leave in my heart when it’s gone. I thought I knew what it was. I thought if I stocked my fridge with club soda, kombucha, ginger ale, all the liquids, I could think of, I’d be fine. I’d go to a bar and order a mocktail. I’d have the bartender make something special for this sober girl. Hahahhahaha. I was very wrong.
Last week, I had a mocktail at a fancy restaurant and I might as well been chewing paper. It reminded me of the time I took Matt to a vegan restaurant. He ordered the bacon bits. 20 minutes later they brought him toasted coconut. I thought he was going to cry.
Starting down this path has made me face a real hard truth. I don’t drink bad wine because I’m down to earth. I’m not drinking to fit in in a crowded bar. Or because of habit. Or because I’m bored. I genuinely like, desire, dare I say crave, the effect alcohol has on my body. That quick neck numb. All of sudden brain quiet. A shot of joy. Shower of happiness that can happen on every corner on every street in every town I’ve ever been to. In order to fill that hole I’ve had to take a hard look at alternative ways to bring joy, happiness, and relaxation into my life. I’ve implemented a 60 minute relaxtion routine that begins the moment I walk through the door at night. I light a candle. I put the kettle on. I draw a warm bath and I close my eyes. I stretch. All of that and it barely just barely is as comforting as a half of glass of wine.