MIND GAMES

A strange realisation washed over me. Even though I had not had an alcoholic drink in months, and I had not seriously binged in over two years, I was still working through my alcohol addiction. The clues that my psyche was hard at work with this ‘spirit’ were scattered all over my life. In a dream, I found myself in a back and forth conversation about whether or not I should just have that shot of tequila. Important things were happening around me but I could not pull my attention away from this consuming conundrum.

In previous months, the deal I had struck with myself was that I was allowed a glass of wine in a sitting. It was not a hard liquor and it was high in antioxidants. "Come on, it's just one glass. Remember when you threw back half a bottle of Smirnoff 1818 like it wasn't a thing? Look at you. You're grown now."

My sales pitch was airtight. I was convinced of the fact that I had successfully healed from my ‘past’ addiction. I was now back in control. I was now the one calling the 'shots.' Little did I know that my rebranding strategy was simply a reflection of my resistance towards 'letting go' of one of my favourite and most effective dopamine fixes. It was such an incredible sensation to feel almost no anxiety, awkwardness or discomfort when interacting with the world outside, or the demons inside, what a reward for the brain.

The Lockdown alcohol ban would come around and I would not have access to that glass of wine and remember, I was no alcoholic, I was very much in control of my drinking so I did not stock pile bottles of wine, YouTube how to make a home brew from pumpkins or find a black market connect, I was too healed for that shit.

Though I craved my wine here and there, the months of not drinking were pretty manageable because I knew that someday, we would be reunited. The hope still lived on. Like a long lost love, my glass of wine would find its way back to me, my memories of us sustaining me. "It's a matter of time before you come back home to me, my love."

When I caught myself out in my own game, I knew there could be no reunion. No good could come from opening this closed door. I was constantly preaching ad nauseam about wellness while justifying my use of the ultimate hindrance to it. Surely there were other healthier sources of antioxidants out there.

My stories were all a trick of my dopamine deprived mind. When I finally accepted this truth, grief just descended upon me. I felt a deep sense of loss over the end of a relationship that though imperfect, had held me in a cocoon of sorts, I felt safe. "Is it really over? Wow! How would I do this?"

Would I ever be able to have fun again? Almost every memory of a good time features a bottle or a glass somewhere. What would happen to my life now? Would I become one of those people who try to convince you that they are high on life but you can tell that they are lying to themselves, they’re miserable and you wish they would just have a shot if not for their own peace but for them to stop looking at you with longing in their eyes.

While I had been guided on how to tackle the healing of my brain software, my higher self came forward with a few suggestions on what we would do instead of drinking or thinking about drinking or thinking about not drinking.

"We will start to really HEAR music again."

"We will SEE sunsets again."

"Heck, we may even start blogging again."

"So much free time and space in our consciousness to just do stuff, experience stuff, be stuff."

"We will feel safe again. There’ll be no energetic blows we feel we need to soften with alcohol."

"Okay, in all honesty, they’ll still be there..."

"But they’ll feel like a passing breeze. A reward for working so hard to dissolve these triggers."

"There is an us without alcohol. A better us. Effervescent. Luminescent. Present."

Hi. I am Sam and I pour green juices for my ancestors.

#healing #traumahealing #functionalalcoholic #bingedrinking