{*Did you know you can write on Elephant? Here’s how—big changes: How to Write & Make Money or at least Be of Benefit on Elephant. ~ Waylon}
~
We may be alike.
I was a daily drinker for decades. Not heavy, just a couple glasses of wine with dinner; but we now know that daily drinking is physically, mentally, and emotionally damaging.
And, millions of Americans want to cut back on their drinking.
When my husband, Dan, and I started dating, he introduced me to martinis. After our wedding, we took the tram from Palm Springs to the top of Mount San Jacinto where we went to the lounge. He ordered martinis. When our drinks arrived, he began respectfully instructing the bartender how they should be made. I thought: wow, have I married the right guy!
We stuck to this dubious habit until I got pregnant, just four months later. Then those frozen vodka treats disappeared.
Over the years, Dan and I enjoyed a nightly glass (well, two) of wine with dinner. It seemed innocent. It’s what we—and so many others like us—did after a stressful day of work, parenting, and keeping the house running. It was a regular habit but not excessive. There was even “evidence” that red wine was good for the heart. That, of course, has now been dispelled.
Today, there are apps, communities, podcasts, and books to help the millions of Americans who want to cut back on their drinking. I have used these resources to minimize my own drinking. It has been an uphill climb but one of surprising benefit. Every morning after a non-alcohol night, I go to my month-at-a-glance calendar on my desk and write Dry in red marker. It gives me a tingle. I’m proud and happy with my crimson progress.
Does the urge promise more than it delivers?
I’m describing alcohol minimization, not abstinence. I don’t intend to be sober for the rest of my life; nor do I intend to start Happy Hour at 5 p.m. every night.
I plan when I’m going to drink moderately: at a dinner party, after a round of golf, or on a birthday. So, that might be six or eight glasses a month, not 60. I’m happy to enjoy a small amount of wine, or champagne, on a special occasion.
How will you define your special occasions? Finally got those Good Will bags out of the garage? Fertilized the house plants? Organized those deductible receipts? You’ve got to decide. Just be careful of “It was such a lousy day….” Or “I need to relax….” Those can be slippery slopes that become all-too-common reasons to return to unhealthy drinking habits.
Recently, I’d worked hard and felt a “reward” was due. So, I made a gin and tonic. When Dan came home, he said, “Could you make me one?” Sure. We had our drinks and a nice catch up on our day.
But the next morning, I woke to a nibble of sadness. I’d given in to my urge last night. The G&T was fun for about 20 minutes. But before it was even gone, I came back down, so to speak. What did I learn? I saw again that the urge promises more than it delivers. A few minutes of a buzz felt okay, then not much. And no Dry in red on my calendar.
Here’s a crumb of wisdom: The urge promises more than it delivers.
Well, maybe more than a crumb. Maybe a whole loaf.
Becoming the best version of ourselves.
Around 5 p.m.—when I start to feel the urge for wine—I follow coach, podcaster, and author Colleen Kachmann’s advice: I say hello to the urge and accept it. I normalize the urge by saying, “Oh, it’s late afternoon. That’s when you show up. I get it. I drank two glasses of wine for a long time at 5 p.m. No wonder you’re here.” Then I tell the urge it can stick around. What I find is that the urge ebbs and flows. Sometimes I’m aware of it; sometimes I’m not. Often, it’s after 6 p.m. when I realize that the urge has gone to visit someone else. Another Dry night. Yes! I love writing that on my calendar in the morning.
Cutting back hasn’t been easy. When we begin to make a change, such as avoiding or minimizing alcohol, we will feel discomfort. But, it’s not long-lasting, and the more we accept the discomfort, the less time it takes for it to go away.
This is the price we pay for becoming the best version of ourselves. We can do it.
~
This account does not have permission to comment on Elephant Journal.
Contact support with questions.