I used to think it was okay to drink wine as long as I worked it off the next day.
I told myself I didn’t need to quit drinking as long as my little personal trainer had me run wind sprints from her jogging stroller by putting her hands in the air and telling me to, “Fly!”, I would be just fine. I was fit and healthy. Right?
Wrong. My joints hurt a little and I was in denial about my sloshy wine gut. I blamed it on loose skin from my twins.
I was headed for real trouble. I just didn’t know it yet.
The pandemic and lockdown came along. I was without a compass. My daughter moved in with her husband. My personal trainer and reason for getting up every morning was locked down with her parents across town.
My husband blamed me for letting her live with them instead of keeping her with us. He cried and blamed me for letting our older granddaughter go with her mother. I felt like I lost everything.
I stocked up on wine. Happy hour started from the time I heard my husband’s (his job was considered an essential service) car door slam when he got home from work until I fell asleep on the sofa or cried myself to sleep in my granddaughter ‘s room.
I gained 30 pounds. Every joint in my body hurt. My face and fingers were swollen. I blamed it on age, arthritis, isolation and just about everything but my drinking about the guilt and shame I felt for not fighting hard enough for my grandchildren and the way my husband treated me.
I was fat and looked old. Worse, I was miserable and felt trapped, angry, and downright resentful of everyone’s constant demands.
Nobody thought I had a drinking problem.
I didn’t drink while caring for my granddaughter. I didn’t drink around my children when they were young, so I didn’t drink around her. I worked out. I ate healthy food. I never lost a job or got in trouble with the law because of drinking. Nobody thought I had a drinking problem. There were no stories circulating about my wild behavior. People bought me wine. That meant I didn’t have a problem, right?
I tried making rules for myself about which days I could drink, the hours I could drink, how much I could drink…
It always ended up with an empty bottle of wine.
October 2021 was the reckoning. The off switch was broken for good. I could rationalize all I wanted. All of the exercise, supplements, skin care products, or anything else could mitigate the damage I was inflicting on myself with alcohol.
I knew the scientific facts and couldn’t ignore them. I could stay on my current trajectory and become THAT old lady or I could change.
I chose change.
The rest is history. The wine gut is gone. The Pandemic Pounds are gone. My hair is thicker. I look younger. The constant joint pain is gone. The person that frantically solved everyone’s problems is gone.
Best of all, I am here. I am ready for the future.
Bring it on! I can handle whatever it is without a corkscrew and excuses.
You’re never to old or too far gone to change your life. No matter how old you are or how badly you think you messed things up, there is hope.
If you’re using the excuse, “I’m too old”, or “Alcohol is my only pleasure in life. I’m not giving it up”, or “I have too many regrets about missing out on the best part of my life”, think about it differently.
Think about it differently
By not drinking, just not doing that one thing, you can open doors to a whole new world of discovery and opportunities to make this the best part of your life.
At 65, I am making this the best part of my life.
Sure, there are limits. I crossed prima ballerina, rocket scientist, concert pianist, rock star, supermodel, and race car driver and Olympic gold medalist off my list of goals right away. Those things were never going to happen no matter how many days I stayed sober.
The best part of being older is that the pressure is off. I don’t have to strive to be the smartest, most beautiful, or accomplished person in the room. It’s somebody else’s turn to strive, compete, and fear rejection.
I did my time. I don’t have to starve myself, keep my opinion to myself, or bang my head against the wall trying to learn something for which I have no aptitude because somebody told me I have to do it to meet their standards.
My days used to be one big Whack a Mole game.
I would be involved with a project at home, get a frantic phone call, drop what I was doing, deal with that problem, go back to what I was doing, and another one would call and complain or something would go wrong.
I was so busy solving problems and saving people from themselves, I was frustrated and exhausted at the end of the day. By the time I started dinner, I had a glass of wine in my hand and didn’t stop until the bottle was empty or I fell asleep on the sofa- whichever came first.
I would get up every day, nauseous, foggy, and with a nagging headache. I would try to keep up the same frantic pace in spite of being physically and mentally exhausted until wine time.
I decided this was not a fun game. It was more like Hell, if Hell was one big Chucky Cheese with electronic bells, blinking lights, ill- mannered children running and overpriced food and games.
Why did I keep spending money on tokens for a game I was never going to win? I was going to end up sick and broke!
I stopped drinking. That was good, but not enough. I had to learn to say no to fixing other people’s self-created crises and “emergencies” .
I learned to say NO.
No, I won’t post bail. No, I will not drive you to the emergency room because you have a sniffle. No, I will not let you live here and clean up after you. No, you are not going to talk to me with disrespect. No, no, no, and more no!
No more Whack a Mole! No was the right tool to end this stupid, frustrating game for good.
Other games I’ve pulled the plug on are Find the Bad Smell, Guilt Bus, It’s All Your Fault, If Only.., Make It His Idea (and you’ll get what you want), Why Can’t You Just…, I Will Say Yes to Anything (please like me)and Everything Must Be Perfect (or you are a big, fat loser)
My life isn’t perfect as a result of quitting drinking. Nobody has a perfect, stress-free life. Some family members and friends just can’t seem to get it together. My husband didn’t win the Alan Alda Award for sensitivity again this year. I can’t seem to lose that last five pounds. World problems still exist. The price of everything is high.
I choose an imperfect AF life over a noisy arcade full of games I can’t win. One thing at a time, one day at a time.
Quitting drinking opened my eyes to the idea that I can do whatever interests me. I don’t have to be the best at it. I just have to enjoy it. Everybody doesn’t have to like me. I meet my own standards.
Hey, I may not be everything I dreamed of in my youth, but being sober sure beats sitting on the sofa with a glass of wine in my hand every evening, watching my husband watch TV, wishing there was something more.
The world is full of possibilities I never knew existed. Interesting people are everywhere. There are as many ways to live as there are people.
If you are struggling today or think you are stuck in a rut, I am encouraging you to do something different.
It can be something small like taking a walk after dinner, saying no without justifying yourself, or wandering through the library and checking out every book that interests you with no particular theme in mind.
It can be big like telling a toxic person you don’t want them in your life or booking a trip.
Big or small, just do something different.
Discovering new things has given me far more than wine every promised or delivered.
More by this author
Don’t Eat The Marshmallow – Thoughts on Taking Back Your Power
The Unexpurgated Truth About What Sobriety Can and Can’t Do
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