If you take away my beer

 

If you take away my beer I’m going to need something else to hold onto while I’m at events where I’d ordinarily be drinking a beer, totally oblivious to the fact that the mere act of holding onto the beer, surreptitiously sipping at unregulated intervals in the presence of others who are doing the same, is a tremendous source of comfort.

If you take away my beer  I may not be able to calm myself into being agreeable to things that I’m not actually agreeable to at all but for some reason did not find nearly as disagreeable before you took away my beer.

If you take away my beer there will be people I’ll need to distance myself from, shows or movies I may be unable to watch and places that I will no longer care to go to.

If you take away my beer I will need to learn a new method of celebrating, grieving, calming, escaping, regulating, connecting, commiserating, expressing etc…

If you take away my beer there will be nothing to cushion me from the pain of my son’s autism and the heartache that has accompanied the many ensuing adjustments.

If you take away my beer I’m going to need to feel things with no means of escape. I will get the feeling of suffocation and will have nothing to numb it away with in order to find my breath. I will be shaken awake and forced to remain that way. I will be afraid.

If you take away my beer I will find that it will not kill me.

If you take away my beer I will find my voice, learning that the people who matter most don’t take off just because I’m not agreeable all of the time.

If you take away my beer I will feel pure pleasure once again in the small things that sometimes escaped my notice when I was filling my time with what I now realize were merely joyless distractions.

If you take away my beer I will have access to portals of strength and wisdom within myself that had previously eluded me and now aid me in my quest for clarity.

If you take away my beer I will be forced to see myself and my world as it truly is. I believe myself to be ready for that. And that’s why I took away my beer.

 

*On October 23rd 2016, I decided to go full-on- bad-ass on my health and give up alcohol for a year. Though I considered myself a social drinker by most standards, only after giving it up could I see clearly how I abused it. I could not have fathomed how deeply alcohol has been ingrained in my life until I decided to live my life without it. None. Not a drop. Of any kind. For a year is what I said. Perhaps even forever, but fortunately one day at a time is all each of us is required to handle, so I don’t need to decide that today. “Diving deep into my own healing” has been a trip like no other I’ve ever been on. Let me just say, there was so much I hadn’t been aware of until I was shown. I say this not to encourage nor discourage anybody else from deciding to take this trip for themselves, but merely to share what I’m going through and offer my support for others going through as well. *

 

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