Losing alcohol as a friend

Today is 23 days sober. Some have been good, some have been terrible, and some days I haven’t really even thought about how many days it has been. Some days I have felt really, really sad though and I have had a really hard time trying to understand that. Why sad? It just didn’t make any sense to me at all and I couldn’t figure out why there’s some days that I just want to curl up in the corner in a little ball. I don’t cry – I haven’t cried in many years – but if I did I suspect that I would be driving home singing along to Adele or any of the songs on the http://www.sad-songs.com website and crying the entire 54 minute commute home. Fun times. No wonder my boyfriend escapes to the bar with his friends as often as he can. It wasn’t until I read a post on UnTipsyTeacher’s blog today that talked about grief and loss and one of the things that she wrote was:

“Many of us, in the early days of quitting drinking, write of the loss we feel.
It is a real loss, and not a loss to brush off.
For many of us, alcohol was our friend.”

When I read that, it was a little “aha!” moment for me. Alcohol (mainly wine) was so much a part of me, almost like a dear friend. If I had a bad day, what did I look forward to the most when I got home (or on the way home)? New situation to head into? Couple of glasses of wine will help with that and calm my nerves. Event that I’m not looking forward to going to? Oh just loosen up first with a few glasses, and guess who will be waiting for you when you get home afterwards? I had a glass of wine in my hand through moments of happiness, sadness, celebration, comfort, relaxation, excitement, funny conversations, serious conversations, break ups, make-ups, vacations and getaways and road trips and everything else in between. Part of me feels like I have been abandoned and it’s like a sappy scene from a sappy movie where the girl holds out her hand, arm and fingers outstretched, tears running down her face while she sobs out “but I can’t dooo thissss withouttt youuuuu”, while the other part of me feels like I’m the one doing the abandoning. The “Sorry, it’s not you, it’s me. I have to go and do this thing called “living life” by myself. I have to face my fears and find out how strong I really am, and have all sorts of new and wild and crazy and fun adventures without you, but thanks for (some of) the memories” type of breakup.

So… I think that I have to realize that I AM grieving, and I have to accept that and work through it and stop squishing those sad feelings down and burying them with cinnamon buns and hot chocolate. Any advice on how to do that would be fabulous – I’ve never been very good at dealing with grief or breakups – I basically just stubbornly stick my chin out and power through and move on.