1. I’m not an alcoholic
2. I’m one day sober.
I’ve spent the last three months dealing with memory loss, fatigue, aching muscles, stiff joints, and bouts of blacking out.
Over the course of the last week, I’ve had three conversations wherein events that I attended were brought up, and I have no recollection of them. Not drunken stumblings, but sober meals, sober conversations. I apparently had a donair the other afternoon, yet I only know this because my friend was eating leftovers and I asked when she bought it.
“I have to tell you about the time I saw Dani!”
“You already did.”
It’s a scary thought, not being able to recall chunks of my life.
The deal is that my body doesn’t properly absorb a slew of nutrients, and alcohol inhibits the absorption of some of these, leaving me completely depleted of all the good stuff that keeps my body ticking in all the right ways.
So in the middle of summer, during the one gorgeous month Vancouver has to offer, when patios are open and conversation flows over highballs, I’ve made the decision to take my health back. I’m cutting alcohol out entirely, I’m getting the 8 hours of sleep I need, and I’m slowly going to work towards being able to run at a pace that my 85 year old grandmother couldn’t walk alongside.
And yet, I struggle with the idea of declining these drinks that will so soon be offered. I know the repercussions of accepting them. I mean, I’m currently in a living hell dealing with the repercussions, but somehow this decision seems daunting. I’ve never been one to drink alone, but I’ve always been the friend who at a moment’s notice will be jumping off the couch to meet whenever and wherever for some giggly conversation over a pint. Drinking is a people pleaser. Ordering a drink when sitting across from a water isn’t as fun as ordering a drink when sitting across from a whiskey. I like being the whiskey, the fun friend, and yet I’ve reached a point where I’m too sick to drink alcohol.
Too sick to drink alcohol.
A strange thought. One I’m still getting used to, but the one I hope will push me towards a future wherein I remember my meals, and can hop out of bed without worrying about smacking my head on the hardwood.