But is it just one glass?
And if it is and you’re anything like me, do you wish it were really 3 or 5…?
Yes, I’m judging you. Yes, you. But not the You who has a heart of gold and inherent worth. Those still exist. You are still that and whole. I don’t think you’re a bad person but I think your messaging is bad. No, harmful. I think it’s harmful because it’s normalizing taking the edge off with a drug.
A drug that’s highly involved in:
murder
rape
death
abuse
self-sabotage.
What’s that say about you if this is the company you keep? Your friendly wine that you turn to for comfort also costs people their lives and livelihoods.
And it may not seem like you’re part of the probem–hell, you probably don’t have a problem–because it’s just one.
Is it still OK if it’s just one murder,
one rape
one death
one abuse
one self-sabotage?
Let me tell you again because I worry you’re hearing the wrong thing. This is too important to ignore. This is not about you. This is about alcohol and the conflicting messages we send and receive about it. You are caring and funny and loving and supportive. I mean that, I mean that, I mean that. Believe me when I say these words are infused with love, because they are. I know who you are. You’re not evil or bad or even wrong for that matter. But it’s possible you may just be unaware, and that’s why I’m here today. You may be unaware of the toxic poison you’re going to sleep with, using to wind down, and offering yourself as a treat. You may be unaware that a world is watching you do this.
I hear you. You NEED release. I need release, too.
I hear you. You NEED joy. I need joy, too.
I hear you. I believe you when you say you’ve been getting these things from your drink. I know I did. And yes, to a degree you are. Or so it seems.
Your “just one” (or the wishful 3 or 5) signals your body that you need more. Maybe not today–maybe this isn’t the day you go for two. But tomorrow or the next, your body still remembers.
It remembers and it wants more.
It remembers what you told it alcohol does for you and you believed it. That’s what a drug does.
This is addiction. On a microscale.
The only thing that seperates you and someone who goes for more is volume. They’ve just been doing it to their body heavier and longer than you.
Again, that’s not to say you will get there. You probably never will. Though, you DON’T have to hit a bottom before you can recognize the damaging effects of alcohol.
But we can do this:
We can start to notice.
We can start to question.
We can start to respond differently.
We can start to grow in new ways.
We can start to be free.
Free of a drug and billion dollar industry that’s complicit in:
murder
rape
death
abuse
self-sabotage.
Believe me, that industry wants nothing more than for you to forget those details.
It ONLY wants to remind you you need it. You deserve it.
It’s here for you in tough times.
It’s here for you in joyous times.
The same drug meets you wherever you are in life. Interesting.
It’s also met you at birthdays, weddings, BBQ’s, funerals, baby showers, paint nights, 5ks, life, and death. “What are those things without alcohol!?“, you think.
That’s how insidious it is.
We crave it and don’t even know it.
We want it everywhere with us and don’t stop to ask why.
Your reasons may differ than mine.
Your habits may differ than mine.
Or maybe they’re so similar. I could stop (mostly). But I didn’t want to. I was a responsible drinker (mostly). But I still did reckless things.
I wasn’t trying to do harm and I know you are not either.
It was only when I looked close…I mean, really close at what I thought alcohol was giving me…did I notice the lie.
It’s been lying to me.
It’s been stealing from me.
It’s been keeping me down.
For the longest time I believed alcohol gave me confidence, fun, relief. I had no problem voicing these things. But what I wasn’t saying was actually doing more damage to me. And I wasn’t even cognizant of it. I didn’t think I could be those things, let alone have those things, without alcohol. I thought I could only be because of alcohol and the lies it told.
Once I was willing to believe I could do those things on my own, once I remembered I had those things all on my own, was when I started to step into my own.
It was the first time I started to truly see my own worth. I started to see my true potential. Only then did I see how free I could be.
And that’s what I want for you, too.
–<3–
First and Always,
Christina
Yes. I see you riled up. Annoyed or embarassed. Feeling called out. Dismissing me and wearing a stink face. Believe me, I’m not perfect. I have things to work through, too. I’m still working on the guilt and shame I feel for having done myself a disservice for nearly two decades.
Sometimes I can’t wrap my head around how soulful, beautiful, intelligent people can drink. How did I do that to myself for so long? That’s how tricky alcohol and the marketing industry is. I think there’s also something to say for those amazing coaches and leaders who lift people with their conscious words and teach them to override their limiting beliefs and yet, perhaps unawarely, are reinforcing the message that alcohol is OK for you. Within their own chats, mailers, or books they’re, too, saying quietly reinforcing you to imbibe the very beverage that people, their clients, turn to when they feel less than. It causes you to think you can’t do life without the help of this beverage. It’s something I’m chewing on.
Moreover, I recently heard the term “conscious consumption” and it struck the same chord with me. It creates the same cognitive dissonance within me because I know you are free to make your own choices and I know deep down you are a good person and I ABSOLUTELY don’t wan’t to judge you. But I have. >< The recovering people-pleaser in me has some red cheeks right now.
I don’t want to shame you. I know your habits don’t qualify your worth. But I also know the world I want to see. And I will work towards that.
Simply, though, I just want to get through to you and I know that’s asking for a lot. I know these words may not be the ones that will do it, nor will anyone else’s. It may just be something you choose not to change.
Can you come a little closer for a moment though, and just see this view? I’ve seen yours already. It was my view for 20 years.
I just grew tired of it.
I noticed it wasn’t actually serving me.
Again:
I don’t think you’re bad.
You were me.
I was you.
I understand.
I even understand the dismissiveness and apprehension.
So, I suppose all I ask, the best I could ever hope is this finds the eyes it needs. If you’re still reading–thank you and bravo. I’d listen to that.
We don’t change the world when we do the same things we’ve always been doing.
Still. <3. Always.
Ask the Questions. Meet Your Fears. Be Courageous.
Christina Lindvay 