47 Weeks of Sobriety- Wedding Crashers

47 Weeks of Sobriety- Wedding Crashers

My first sober wedding, my son's first wedding and some emotional laziness...

Today I have been sober for 47 weeks. 329 days.

Sobriety


I went to a good friend’s wedding on Saturday. We’ve been good mates since high school, almost 20 years. It was the first wedding I’ve been to sober since I was a child. I think? Apologies to anyone if I have attended your wedding over the last 11 months. Your day was in no way insignificant and I had a great time on your beautiful day, I’m sure. This is a me problem, not you. My memory is hazy, especially from early sobriety. Now I’m apologising to people who almost certainly don’t exist. Off to a flyer.

This wedding was about as Australian as it gets. Set on a family farm about 30 minutes out of Canberra, the mid-afternoon sun was blaring, the vibe was relaxed, and there was a big marquee with tables, chairs and buckets full of ice-cold grog. I don’t say this to make it sound like a scene from a horror movie. I knew what I was in for and it was nice to see such a relaxed atmosphere where people felt comfortable enjoying a drink whenever they chose to.

I remember going to weddings when I was drinking. I’d usually have a few drinks beforehand and then get anxious about whether or not we would be allowed to drink before and during the ceremony. Sometimes I would be hesitant to drink before a wedding because as much as I fucking loved to drink, the idea of having a few drinks, and then being forced to stop for a short period during the formalities terrified me. I liken it to a small child getting comforted when they are scared, then taking that comfort away for an hour while some important shit happens, then coming back for it.

If I was going to a wedding in say, a church, I wouldn’t drink beforehand, but I would be thinking about drinking the whole way through. Especially when I was a plus one. How the fuck would I manage to fumble through conversations with all the strangers who were definitely judging the shit out of me (they never were) without the comfort and support of alcohol? Obviously, the safest, smartest and best thing to do is to get shitfaced, right? Then I could be comfortable “being myself” and trying to convince these strangers I don’t care about how great I was, even though they didn’t matter to me and I would likely not see them ever again. I think ultimately what I wanted was for these people to have a better view of me than I had of myself. Maybe if I could convince them, I could convince myself.

I want to stress, I did actually have a great time, but this blog is about sobriety, mental health and the challenges I face week to week so hopefully, others can find comfort in knowing they’re not alone in struggling with certain feelings at things like this.

I struggled with a bit of anxiety on the day. I knew quite a lot of people there, but would only call a handful of them friends. You know those people you might’ve gone to school with, or known from your childhood that you wouldn’t call friends, but at a point in your life you would have comfortably stopped and spoken with, but now it’s been so long since you’ve spoken that you’re unsure of what to do? There were a lot of those people there for me.

I think this is where people get the illusion that I am arrogant, which is something that has frustrated me over time. In my mind, I’m thinking that they wouldn’t want to talk to me. It’s just easier for all concerned to stay at arms reach, maybe the odd, polite, “‘owyagarn?” and keep moving.

I know this all stems from that low self-worth that I talk about so often and it proves to me that I still have a lot of work to do in that space. I get along really well with my mate's parents, in particular, her mum. She hadn’t met my son before and at times I spotted her wandering about and thought I should go say g’day, then I would get a voice in my head telling me that she was too busy with other people who were more important than us and we would get our chance later. We didn’t get that chance. The next day I spoke to my mate’s mum and she told me how disappointed she was that she didn’t get the opportunity to meet him and now I feel like an asshole. If I wasn’t in my own head so much and stressing about things that didn’t actually exist, she could’ve met him.

At one point my partner asked how I was going and I told her I was feeling a little bit anxious. She asked if I felt like drinking. I told her the truth. I said no, and it was true, I didn’t feel like drinking. She asked purely out of curiosity if I thought drinking would have helped with the anxiety. I said of course. It would take it right away. But I just didn’t want to drink. I didn’t even consider it, which is a nice feeling. It’s nice to know that even though there were times on Saturday when I felt anxious and awkward, at no point did I give any serious consideration to picking up a drink.

I will say though, despite the occasional burst of anxiety and awkwardness, I think I was much less anxious than I would have been had the wedding been six months ago. Whilst elements of things like this are challenging, they’re getting easier and I am enjoying them more and more each time. Sure, I wish I didn’t have any struggles at all, but I do feel like I’m making gradual improvements and progress is progress, no matter which way ya chop it.

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Emotional Laziness


Clare Carey

wrote a great blog yesterday on Compassion Burnout . It reminded me of when I was speaking about being emotionally lazy last week. There’s been a few things going on in my life of late where I have been questioning if I have been in the past, or at times still am, emotionally lazy.What I mean by this is, sometimes, we are too fatigued or burned out to give a thought the emotional attention it deserves. I find it frustrating because I know I’m capable of better, but at times can’t find the mental bandwidth to be better.

I am trying really hard to be more understanding, compassionate and empathetic towards others and their circumstances. I want to assume less and be more considered.

I want to give a few examples to help clarify what I am talking about.

At the wedding on the weekend, it was easier for me to sit back with my family, and speak only to the few people I was close friends with or people who approached me than it was for me to actively seek out old friends and catch up with them after all these years. It was a great opportunity to reconnect with people from the past, but because that would take more mental energy than it would sit in my comfort zone, I chose not to do so. I know I would have had a better experience I know I’m capable of it too because I have done similar things before.

I have an elderly relative who is in a bad way. It’s getting to the point where people are starting to say things like, “if you want to see her you might want to make plans to do it soon. It’s fucking tragic and a part of life that none of us is comfortable with. What I’m stuck on though is whether I want to go and visit her one last time. She is still mentally sharp but struggling physically. The last two times I saw her were at Christmas, and a couple of months ago.

She lives in a home but was allowed to leave for the day each time to come for lunch. At Christmas time she got to meet my son for the first time, something she’d wanted to do for some time. She saw him again at lunch a couple of months ago. Both times she was fucking wrapped. She got lots of cuddles and smiles and we got a bunch of photos and memories.

I’m feeling emotionally torn, especially because she is so mentally well. I want her to know that we love her and that we care, especially given the stage of her life she is at. But I have seen her in a similar state after a fall she’s had in the past, and that memory is uncomfortable for me and will stick to my mind like glue. I can’t help but feel like the right thing to do would be to visit her one last time.

Even though she’s not going to be alone at any point, I would be one of many visitors she’ll get. I highly doubt in her state that she will be bitter about me not visiting. But I am afraid of feeling guilty if I don’t visit. I guess I’m torn between doing the emotionally difficult thing, which is probably the right thing to do for her and doing the emotionally easy thing to do which is potentially the right thing to do for me.

In both examples, is my brain just trying to protect me from confronting circumstances? Or maybe I’m avoiding these types of situations because I’m too emotionally lazy to face the difficult thoughts they are likely to present? Part of me wants to tell myself to stop being a coward, stop whinging and just do the right thing, while another part of me is trying to learn that it’s ok to do whats best for you sometimes and look after yourself.

I guess the toughest part of all is figuring out the circumstances where you should do what’s best for others and when you should do what’s best for yourself.

I’d be interested to hear what you guys think.

Cheers Wankers.

X.


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