They say it takes 21 days to form a new habit. I googled it, apparently not. It seems things aren’t always that simple. Well anyway I decided to make my own rule. I chose 100 days. It seemed like a nice round number. 100 sober days.
There use to be an alcohol awareness campaign that had the tag line ‘It’s not what we’re drinking, it’s how we’re drinking’. I can relate, I was drinking to oblivion. I was experiencing significant blackouts when I went out drinking. If you haven’t experienced blackout’s then you may find them hard to believe. Often times people can have selective memories the day after drinking or can experience ‘grey-outs’. Grey-outs are when you have forgotten but when someone reminds you of an event, the memory restores and you get that ‘oh my god I remember that’ moment. A blackout is essentially when the short term memories don’t convert to long term memories, the memories are gone, they are not stored anywhere so no matter what someone tells you, you won’t remember. It is an incredibly shit feeling waking up in the morning and not knowing how you got there and having no recollection of the final 2 or 3 or even 4 hours of the night. When you are obliterated like that you have lost all cognition, you are on automatic pilot. Bad decisions are imminent.
So I agree with the campaign slogan, “how we’re drinking” is definitely an issue, I also think though that “why we’re drinking” can be equally an issue. Are you drinking to celebrate a special occasion? Are you drinking to enjoy a social gathering? Or are you drinking to escape the challenges that you are faced with in life? Intoxication was giving me a temporary reprieve from the challenges of everyday life. For a short time any anxiety, stress or fear could be forced to the back of my mind and replaced with fun, laughter and freedom. That was of course until the morning after. There I was again, back in the real world, challenges and emotional bourdons intact. Now though I was hungover and emotionally drained with even less mental capacity to deal with them. The anxiety, stress and fear would then compound as my state of mind was weak. I needed to escape again. Rinse and repeat. Down we go. Emotional oblivion. Pass the Prozac.
I socialised with many people who would have partied at a similar level and frequency to me and maybe it’s not an issue for them, it’s not for me to judge others nor do I have any willingness to do so. I think ultimately no matter what it is, drink, drugs, gambling or anything else the line of moderation can be a blurry one. If your behaviour is outside of what society deems to be reasonable then you may likely be assessed as having a problem. If however you are below societies behavioural radar the measure of acceptable moderation is going to come down to your own self assessment. What is too much? What price am I paying? It really comes down to you and the questions you ask of yourself.
The moment that really got me in the end was when I started focusing on the man I wanted to become and what I wanted to achieve. When I thought of who that person was I knew that if I continued the way I was going I couldn’t become that man. I wasn’t going to achieve what I believed I could. That was my litmus test.
So I finally stopped running and started fighting, literally.
I would like to be able to have a social drink again and maintain a level of moderation. I know that if I do it has to pass my criteria, it cannot negatively influence or slow my journey forward. What I have learnt within myself is that sometimes abstinence is easier than moderation. Drinking again does freak me out because I currently enjoy the safety of abstinence, moderation is a beast I have yet to conquer and she is a fiery one.
There is a lot at stake. My boys deserve the best of me. My family and friends deserve the best of me. My colleagues deserve the best of me. I deserve the best of me.
Day 101…
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The plane is shaking, adrenaline is spiking…people start screaming! Your children to whom you love more than anything in the world sit either side of you. You would gladly choose death so that they could draw a single additional breath. The oxygen masks drop from the overhead compartment, what do you do? You must put yours on first.
I’ve always had a huge amount of respect for people who fought in the ring. Putting yourself out there, body on the line. There was a purity to the respect they earned by doing it. It didn’t matter how much money you had, what your parents did for a living or where you worked, when you were in the ring it was solely about the character you displayed. Watching someone in the ring shows you a lot about them, their commitment and dedication, their heart, courage and desire for victory.
I love taking my kids to the playground. At the playground the rest of the world is irrelevant. The playground is a vortex of positive human behaviour, a place where evil cannot reside. Joy is the currency of time. Adults become citizens of impeccable moral character, all desiring to teach their next generation solid characteristics of fairness, generosity, courtesy, caring and respect.
“No Jonny, let this little boy go first”,
“Go to the back of the line Paul, you must wait your turn”,
“Be careful of the little girl Jesse”,
“Let her play with the ball if you’re not using it” –
Adults seem to bond easier in this environment of common interest, we all have our best on display, I’m sure we feel better about ourselves and what we are contributing to the world. We effortlessly embrace a little small-talk while soaking in the righteousness.We can find ourselves pushing the merry-go-round not only for our own kids but for whoever decides to jump on just because it’s a nice thing to do and there is a sense that being the cause of a child’s laughter somehow replenishes your soul, counteracting what the outside world can on occasion siphon. Kids interact with each other in a way we seem incapable of – immune to the stereotypes and racial prejudices’ that infect the outside world.
Adults have a pass to act silly again, no-one to impress in the playground but their children. Dad chases the soccer ball and rolls one foot over the top while flicking his other foot behind him kicking the ball in a way he hopes shows off the skills he still has as opposed to the ones he used to have. Mum butters the bread and prepares the picnic as she watches on satisfied that life is as it should be. She’s a little over protective but only because she fears anything interfering with the perfection that is her children.
Dad climbs the spider wall with his 3 year old son just because he can. Mum runs alongside her little girl on the flying fox catching hands at the ready. She’s exhausted by the tyres, she didn’t anticipate it going that fast. Dad wants a go but knows he’ll either break it or be dragged along the dirt.
A sense of peace is in the air. We forget about the bills we’re not sure how to pay, we forget about the hardships in life. In this time, in these moments, we understand what it is to be grateful, to contribute, to let go of conformity, to embrace the purity of love and the appreciation of it. This is how life was meant to be. This is our playground.]]> 
So often we don’t chase our dreams because we’re afraid. We’re afraid of the road we must travel. Scared of possible failure, ridicule, setback…whatever it is you’re afraid of, f#@k it. No matter what you put yourself out there for, YOU CAN NOT LOOSE. If you accept that and believe that, how daring and confident would you become? It is on the battlefield of pursuit that your character is shaped. The challenges will push you, extract from you strengths that would have otherwise lay dormant. But most importantly, seeming failure can expose you to something you didn’t even know you were looking for, a new challenge, a new purpose, a new destiny. The only thing we have when it all washes up is who we become. Who we become is built on the battlefield of life. To hide behind the trees is to deprive yourself of your true greatness. Dare to believe.]]> 
