Hey Moms Listen Up
Moms, I hear you and I see you. I know you’re struggling. Your messages tell me you’ve never felt so stressed out. They tell me you’re anxious and depressed. They tell me you’re lost and you no longer remember who you were. They tell me you know that you drink too much but you don’t know what else to do. They tell me your kids are driving you crazy but they need you and you feel sorry for them. I get it.
I was once was the one private messaging a stranger from the internet telling her those very same things. I asked her if she knew of any resources or if she had any books or podcasts that I could listen to. I woke up with a lingering dread that stayed with me as my life seemed to be happening all around me. I was the one 100% positive that I wasn’t an alcoholic but I knew alcohol was contributing to all of the problems. But still, I wasn’t ready to give it up. Anything but that.
The news also tells me that you’re desperate. The stats of women and alcohol are terrifying. The increase in depression and anxiety is heartbreaking. The lack of support for women is appauling.. The demands are too high. Women have held the brunt of this virus, economic crisis, and school disaster all while caring for all of the little people in the world. Mostly alone, behind the closed doors of our private homes thinking we are the only ones who could feel this way. We think the change has to be all or nothing and the “all” is overwhelming and depressing so we opt for “nothing.” The comfort of the known feels so much easier in these crazy unpredictable times.
When I sat out on my journey over three ago I had no idea what was to come. I didn’t know that my shaky hands and suffocating anxiety would lead to me where I am today. I was sure that I would go back to drinking and that someday I would return to “normal.” I had no intentions of leading a forever sober life. I was clueless, not yet ready to receive the gifts, thinking that what I had was better than what I could have. I’m laughing right now that I believed that drinking would be better than not.
But I know you can’t see that. I know exactly what you’re thinking and where you are in your quest. I understand your desperation when you send me a message but I also know that one more thing might break you. I know that the thought of changing makes you sick to your stomach. I know you’re already sick to your stomach. The truth is it doesn’t have to be either (all or nothing) but just an open mind to exploration and curiosity.
I know you’re not an alcoholic. But did you know that in terms of cancer risk, drinking a bottle of wine is the equivalent of smoking ten cigarettes? Did you know that after only a few drinks the chemicals in alcohol alter your brains’ functioning making you think that alcohol is the greatest, most wonderful, and amazing thing. It’s why you can’t, in a billion years, imagine a life without it. You’re under the spell of the addictive chemicals trying to prime you for having “just one more.”
I just finished reading Wild by Cheryl Strayed. It is one of my new favorite books. It’s about a woman who hikes the Pacific Crest Trail alone for months and months. At the beginning of her hike she wrote “At which point, at long last, there was the actual doing it, quickly followed by the grim realization of what it meant to do it, followed by the decision to quit doing it because doing it was absurd and pointless and ridiculously difficult and far more than I expected doing it would be and I was profoundly unprepared to do it. And then there was the real live truly doing it.” It’s as if she wrote this about my journey to becoming alcohol-free because that’s precisely what it felt like. There was no amount of readiness or prepardness. There wasn’t a perfect sign or moment. I just started doing it and before long I was really really doing it and now I’m still doing it.
So Moms, what I’m saying is let’s choose our hard. Let’s be the ones in charge of the difficult triumph we are undertaking. Instead of taking what’s thrown at us and desperately trying to dim it down or lessen it by covering it up with alcohol (which we already know is really hard) let’s see what happens if we choose a hard “B.” The hard that means to stop drinking (or whatever destructive thing that’s bringing you down) and ask for the help and support you need. This will lead to that difficult conversation that you, in fact, can’t do it all. You can’t hold on anymore. You will need to jump off that tight rope you’re walking on and someone else will have to fill in. You’ll have to find a new, less satisfying (at first) coping skill that won’t leave you with a body full of cortisol because seriously why are we drinking stress?!?!?
I have the luxury of knowing the women on the other side. The women who celebrate day ten, year one, and year twenty. Their only regret is not quitting sooner as they find themselves falling to the ground and crying tears of gratitude. With all the shit women have to deal with, thank God, alcohol is no longer one of them. The hangover, the anxiety, the shame, the guilt, the thinking about drinking, all vanished and out of their lives as they fill that space with meaning, new friendships, lifelong projects, and contentment.
I’m not cured by any means. I have terrible days. I have mild depression. I have anxiety. I have stress. I have days that parenting seems monumental. But I also have the ability to manage. I can face it. I can handle it. I can do it, whatever it is, and that’s because of sobriety. I made room for healing, did the work, and I filled my drinking hours with real self-care so I finally have the tools. Don’t believe the lie that sobriety begs you to hear. The one that it’s filled with boredom, lack of living, no oompf. It’s a garbage misconception. One that you just won’t understand until you try it.
Here are some resources/supports: