A sober friend of mine brought some O’Doul’s over many years ago to watch football. He enjoys drinking non-alcoholic beer and always has some on hand. I’ve tried it before. I thought it tasted fine, but never saw the point. Kinda like decaf coffee. I just never jived with the concept.
Instead of euphoria, I found a spiraling use disorder. Covid 19 lockdowns added fuel to the fire. What had been a daily pot and a few times a week alcohol habit, became a nearly daily binge of both. I only took days off if the brutality of the hangover demanded it.
. I needed to reframe my relationship with alcohol. But I wasn’t yet sure what that meant. Was that full abstinence? Did I need to start attending AA meetings? Did I need to seek out professional help? Or would I be able to simply drink more responsibly with mindfulness and intention?
Most victories rang hollow. As I grew older, drinking and smoking pot became my way of coping with the emptiness. These things filled a void inside me. I sought comfort in the external, in mind altering substances. Until they themselves became empty.
“At least she didn’t ask me to pick up any beer,” I thought to myself as I grabbed the car keys and drove the 1.5 pine wooded miles to the store. Five minutes later, I shifted the car into park and headed in. I was a man on a mission.