That’s right folks, I’m two days in to a new sober challenge, and so far so good.
Yesterday, I spent the better half of the day nursing a pretty solid hangover and reflecting on things I won’t miss about drinking (that hangover being at the very top of the list).
So, okay, hangovers are an obvious one, but what else am I happy to bid adeu?
There’s one thing in particular.
One of my favorite female comedians is Iliza Schlesinger and she has this great stand-up bit about “party goblins”. We all got ’em and they’re all terrible.
My party goblin lives in a dark cave somewhere in my cerebral cortex. Most of the time, party goblin is passed out behind a dumpster with visions of empty wine bottles dancing in her head, but when she wakes up, Lord help us.
It doesn’t take much to awaken my party goblin, just a few sips of a chilled white wine and party goblin is up and ready to take over the rest of my night. You see, party goblin does all the stuff Amelia gets to regret the next day. Party goblin challenges Amelia to smoke as many cigarettes as possible in a four hour period. Party goblin tells Amelia she needs to take that double shot of whiskey. Party goblin starts telling all of Amelia’s deep dark secrets to anybody that will listen. Party goblin whispers “call him” as Amelia walks home from the bar. Party goblin is that friend you had in college that you only went out with because she’d get so drunk and weird that she actually made you look better. In short, party goblin sucks.
See, it’s easy and even kind of funny to blame your poor life choices on a mystical character that you’ve made up so that you don’t have to face the reality that when you drink, it’s you that sucks, not the goblin. Because just like the tooth fairy and the Easter bunny, party goblins don’t actually exist (sorry to burst your bubble). That means, whatever I do when I drink, is on me, and when I wake up the next morning and regret something I said or did, there’s no one to blame but myself.
So, starting today (well, technically, yesterday), I no longer believe in the party goblin. I recognize that sometimes I don’t always make great choices and I have to take responsibility for that.
I want to know more about that part of myself, the part that continues to let alcohol affect her decision making in a negative way. I want to put myself back in the same situations, take away the booze, and see if I still have the urge to do or say the same things. My guess is that I won’t because as we all know, alcohol gives us a reason to release our inhibitions. But why are my inhibitions so aggressive and dramatic? What part of me feels so trapped on a daily basis that the second I give it a release, it unleashes what feels like months of pent up, attention-seeking angst, onto the closest, innocent bystander?
I’m hoping to have a few solid answers for you guys in the next four months.
One thought on “Day 2”
You say it well. I started drinking at the age of seventeen. It was a blast. Nothing good came from it. It was embarrassing to listen to family and friends tell you what you did last night. Ouch. We used to refer to our favorite drink as “Liquid Backbone”. Be careful Miss America. You are an angel.
See you soon,