Beautiful Booze

Breaking up is hard to do

Photo by Alfonso Scarpa on Unsplash

Some years ago I woke up to the buzz of an early morning phone call from a friend in New Zealand.

I was too hung over to answer it. Not because there had been any special celebration but because after an intense day of work I had yet again had one too many glasses of wine to ease the tension.

Later in the day I listened to her voice message. She had just been diagnosed with breast cancer. She reached out to me because she needed to talk to a friend, even though she knew it was early in the morning. She needed to share her worries and her fears, make sense of her diagnosis, to find her way back to some sort of equilibrium.

I wasn’t there when she needed to talk.

Of course, there are valid reasons why I could have missed her call. She was hoping I would pick up but there was obligation or expectation. She was just as appreciative when I did call her as if I had answered at 6am.

The nub is that I was flooded with guilt. My clandestine cavorting with alcohol was impinging on my work, my mornings less than sharp, my gym regime taking a back seat and the carb cravings doing nothing for my waistline but for the first time I saw that this affair was coming between me and people that I cared about.

This was the beginning of unhooking myself from a destructive co-dependent relationship.

It took awhile.

I grew up in a culture that romanticised alcohol and where drinking is a national pastime. I hung out with friends who frequented pubs, clubs and wine bars with the dedication of fevered fans, hang overs were de rigeur and feeling ropey was, well, a small price to pay for the fun and frolics.

I wasn’t a spirits drinker or overtly dependent on alcohol, but I had an incipient feeling that the relationship wasn’t working. When I asked others about my drinking, they scoffed at the idea that I might have a problem.

A turning point was accepting my inner knowing that I had problem with alcohol; I didn’t like how it spun me out, I didn’t like how it made me feel, I didn’t like the fatigue and to be honest I was using alcohol to compensate for a lack of fulfilment at work.

It took longer than I would have liked to leave my lover; quite a few more boozy nights, embarrassing drunken moments and regretful hangovers as well as going back to college, taking time out and changing career.

Eventually there was a point where I had one alcohol free week, followed by two and then three.

Like a Hobbit leaving the Shire I became more curious the further out I travelled, until the road ahead held more intrigue for me that the road behind.

I didn’t socialise for about three months - until I knew I could be in a social drinking environment. I thought I would lose friends but instead it seems I became an example and an inspiration.

I am still not an early riser or morning lark but if received a phone call at an ungodly hour I would be able to answer the phone without an ounce of guilt.

If you are dispirited and uninspired in your work or career, book a no obligation 30 minute infusion of imagination.

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