Troubled No More

Have you ever thought about the fact that alcohol is the only drug that we get treated like a weirdo for not using? It’s utter madness! We are considered odd or troubled, in this booze-soaked world of ours, if we choose not to drink.

You don’t get that reaction if you choose not to try meth, or say, “no thanks” to cannabis. Yet make the decision not to imbibe booze, and the eyebrows get immediately raised.

At best you might just get a sideways look, at worst questions about why we’re not drinking or pressure to have one or two. We’re made to feel conspicuous, uncomfortable, flawed, problematic and troubled.

I was troubled when I drank for goodness sake!

I was troubled when I got drunk at home night after night after night.

I was troubled when I disconnected myself from everyone around me by pouring glass after glass of wine down my throat, turning off my listening ears and numbing my emotions.

I was troubled when I spent most of my days recovering from drinking. I was troubled when I spent hours and hours debating internally with myself about my booze intake.

I was troubled when I vomited, stumbled, slurred.

I was extremely troubled when I drank.

Now that I’m sober I am far from troubled. I’m gloriously, ordinarily human. Smiling and laughing in the good times, crying and worrying when things get tough. Having a clear head to properly listen to people when they talk to me and process all that is happening around.

I go on holidays and hang out with friends and love my family and potter around my house and do my jobs and walk the dog and cry and laugh and worry and delight and anticipate and feel.

I’m experiencing my full range of emotions in all their uncomfortable, joyous, painful, exciting and revealing glory.  Feeling everything all the time, with no booze passing by my lips. None. Zip. Zilch. Nadda.

This is not being troubled. This is being alive.

What I do not do, is drink any alcohol, and bugger anyone who wants to judge me for that. Bloody hell it’s good. It is so good. For too long I was convinced that alcohol was a necessary ingredient for a full, fun life. How wrong I was. A full, fun life is a life lived authentically, with both feet planted firmly on the ground and a brain that is wide open and ready for all that comes my way.

It’s fan-freaking-tastic. 

Mrs D xxx