Wow. I feel almost guilty for the title of this post, but I’m not going to sugar-coat my feelings so as to not upset my introjected parental figures, that would be insane ! 🙂 (I don’t think my real parents will ever read this blog)
Anyway….
I made it ! My first family event since I went AF.
I was the only sober person at a big round table of 7 [one of those tables with the turny-plate thingy in the middle… I hope someone knows what I’m talking about! We had dinner at a fancy Asian restaurant, the “best Beijing Duck in Paris” (We lived in Vietnam for 7 years so celebrating around Asian food is part of our family identity)]. [((((Nadine these parentheses are for you)))))]
In case this might be helpful to anyone reading: what helped me survive this new “first” on my sobriety journey?
I knew what to expect, and arrived at the event fully prepared/pumped. That makes a huge difference in sticking to your goal I suppose: anticipate difficulties and have a plan. I knew I would order a soft drink as an aperitif, and then turn down any other drinks throughout the meal. My preparations included verbalizing my fears (see previous post), reconnecting with my “whys” (why did I want to go AF in the first place? Oh yeah, to avoid ending up like this people!), setting a strong intention before the event, reading recovery-related literature during the day, and most of all: having received such warm encouragement from all of you guys the day before !!!
All in all, it went well.
I was seated next to my mother, around whom we grew up walking on eggshells, worried she might get upset or embarrass us in public at any moment. When we sat down, the first thing she asked was “so, are you still on the wagon?” I guess she remembered. I smiled and said I was, and she said “oh ok” and my father smiled and that was that. No announcement to make. No need to discuss it. Then they all ordered drinks and I had a pineapple juice. LOL. That felt weird. I could see everyone staring at me but I tried to act normal. No one said anything. We all said cheers to my little brother’s 25th birthday, and had a lovely meal.
This restaurant had 3 stiff, penguin-like waiters in bow-ties constantly hovering around us and watching our every move. It felt like eating in front of the Gestapo. But this is also in part what saved the evening: they were the ones filling everyone’s glasses, which ironically considerably slowed down my mother’s pace compared to what she would have been drinking if no one was monitoring her intake. By the end of the evening, she was therefore relatively sober-ish (i.e. slurring her words, but neither making a scene nor doing some crazy uncontrollable shit). There was no major disaster. Oh, except when my siblings all went out to smoke (so French!), she took a birthday card out of her handbag, and asked the waiter for an envelope, because the one she had was completely stained and all brown and crinkled. (I’ll spare you the details of when he brought one which was “the wrong size” and she sent him to get another one. Sigh) When I asked what happened she didn’t respond, and smiled mysteriously. At a loss, I looked at my dad, who said “there was a little accident in your mother’s handbag involving…erm… a little bottle, that was, erm… in there, and spilled”. They both smiled sheepishly as if this was a funny anecdote and completely normal. I said “Oh ok”, and let the subject drop, but inside I felt a twinge of shame and sadness at the idea that my mother is now walking around with booze in her handbag and spilling it on her son’s birthday card. Sigh. I spent most of the meal cringing and breathing and practicing mindfulness every time she spoke loudly (in a very quiet room), almost tipped her glass over, fished around inside her bowl with her fingers (I couldn’t help it… her bowl contained Chinese noodles, which she was picking up with her fingers… so I just whispered “Mummy!!” and she stopped), when wanted to pass her leftovers or empty plate full of gravy to everyone (“Anyone want some SAUUUUUCE??? – awkwardly balances plate full of meat juice that no one wants, almost spilling it on the white table cloth and tries to turn the turny-thing as the astonished waiters watch)”, etc. I just breathed and tried to ignore the three bow-tied waiters and my self-consciousness and noted “this is discomfort, it will pass”, and tried to remember that this is her behavior, not mine. I am neither responsible for it, not supposed to carry the “burden” of shame that I have for all these years in reaction to it. [Now I know why I am so self-conscious and worried about other people’s opinions. I’m working on letting go of all this].
When we left the restaurant, I sat in a cab in between my parents. The sour, hospital (I almost want to say hospice)-like smell of ethanol filled the whole car and swept over me in waves with every word that came out of their mouth. Even my father –who in the family system represents the “innocent victim” figure– was slurring his words. Their smell made me feel kind of sick. I thought to myself: “wow, all these years I thought that only smokers could stink up a place without noticing their own smell, but turns out drinkers do it too. So I’ve/d been doing it too, for all those years. Without noticing”.
So yeah, for me, “I survived” means that
1. I did not drink, and
2. The evening went on more or less peacefully (even if it’s just surface-level peace).
This is in great part due to the fact that we were in public, celebrating the youngest in the family. We’ll see how it goes at X-mas, when we are left to our own devices, sheltered from the gaze of others. Gulp.
But that’s future-Anne’s problem. For now, I will enjoy the present moment and take a second to be proud of myself for sitting through the discomfort, for trying to sort out what I can and cannot control, and still having a “nice” time.
Phew!!
Hang in there!!
xxx Anne
Anne… I was impressed with and nodding sagely at the parenthesis ;)) then smiling and hitting the like button at your adorable “[((((Nadine these parentheses are for you)))))]” — {{{{{thank you!!!!}}}}}
But I have to say, I’m in tears as I finished reading this.
My husband’s mom was very similar.
Due to that, having known her for about twenty years before she died of alcohol and tobacco-related throat cancer, as well as due to the very clear picture you paint with your post, even in such a lighthearted way, I can fairly well imagine how awfully hard this was, and has always been, for you.
It is absolutely brutal having to suffer an alcoholic. It’s painful, it’s embarrassing, and it feels hopeless and shameful-by-association in the worst of times, and just plain fucking brave, generous and tolerant in the best of times.
You are brave, generous and tolerant… and just amazing.
Shaking my head and wiping tears away, as I think of how much so.
Kudos, friend. You are doing this.
Your entire family is likely to benefit.
My dad eventually stopped drinking when I told him, a long while ago, that I was trying to. Not saying it’s a guarantee by any means, but, our actions do influence others.
Sending love.
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wow Nadine, thank you ❤ And thanks for reminding me of the serious nugget of depth at the core of all this. I feel like I've moved past the intense grief and anger that I was able to work through in the last 5 years of therapy, but yes, you are right, under the light heartedness there is/was a lot of suffering. Reading people's stories here has helped me see how I a, far from being the only one though, and forgiveness (including of self!) truly is a beautiful blessing. Thank you so much for your words ❤ and for the hope that by setting the example we can maybe inspire others, if they want 🙂 xoxoxo Anne
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Just a quick reply here… thank you Anne, and btw I’m sorry if I came off a bit harsh… something protective over you reared up it’s dragony head in me… yes, forgiveness is always key. ❤︎ xoxoxo
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hahaha I sensed no harshness at all! And in any case I approve of wrathful compassion !!! ❤ But to me you were all gentleness as usual !! xoxoxo ❤
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wrathful compassion lol I love it!!! ❤︎😇🙌😜💞
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❤
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Hugs!
So happy you made it!
I know now what I was like for my husband to see me like your mom was.
Also, I watched my dad descend into his alcoholism, and it was so hard to see. He only stopped when he developed Parkinson’s disease, and even then, my mom let him have a glass a day.
It helps me to remember.
xo
Wendy
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awww I’m sorry if this post brought back unpleasant memories Wendy !!! I guess I’m just only starting to see all of this stuff from the outside (as a non-participant/non-partaker). It’s so new !!! But I’m so glad to be on this side with you guys 🙂 xoxoxox Anne ❤
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It always helps me to remember! So I don’t go back!
We are the cool kids now!
xo
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hahaha when you put it like that … 🙂 xxx ❤
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As I was reading this, I could picture all of this in my head. You got through, though! I am so proud of you Anne!! Now you can enjoy some time in beautiful Paris until your next family gathering. 🙂
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yeeeees 🙂 Thank you Amy ! Hope all is going well for you (will check your blog when I get home) !!! xoxoxo Anne
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I’m really glad you posted about this Anne and I can only imagine the situation from your description. You did it though and that’s an incredible thing. I’m so impressed with you. When I read posts like this I see that everyone has challenges to face and I don’t feel so alone when I hit a wall or feel I can climb any further up the mountain. If you can sit with the discomfort and also the other feelings and emotions the evening must have triggered, then I can deal with difficult challenges too.
Enjoy Paris and your strength!!
Claire xx
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awwww Claire thank you those are really motivating words !! It’s the same for me, I draw strength from everyone else’s own stories and encouragements. This really is a crazy journey ! xoxoxo Anne
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Brilliant Anne, so often cycles continue, you show that hard as it may be they don’t have to. Strong, determined, reflective and you’ve been pretty good yourself😉I have to say when I read posts like yours I’m so proud and glad to be part of this AF gang rather than the drinking gang. Anyone can drink alcohol, that’s following the herd but only the truly magnificent can be Soberistas and you are star studded, towering, blazing firework of a Soberista (OTT maybe but why not, you deserve it!)
Jim x
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bahahaha wow thank you Jim !!! I don’t deserve all of those wonderful adjectives (especially towering, cause I’m 5’1 lol) 🙂 But yeah it feels really good to slowly discover this is actually possible and that we’re actually doing it ! Who would have though !!! Yesterday I went to a bar and had tea while my mate had a pint and I didn’t even feel deprived: CRAZYYYY 🙂 Hope all is well for you ! xoxoxo Anne
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Congrats Anne! I’m proud of you😊
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awww thank you Dwight 🙂 ❤ xxx Anne
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You did it! Congratulations. It sounds like you navigated the situation beautifully although I know it is hard to watch people you care about hurting themselves. I’m glad you are taking care of you! Keep it up! And one can always feign illness and hide in their bedroom with a good book at uncomfortable family gatherings! 😊
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I love that plan .. I may try that on Boxing Day when we visit the ‘in laws’ 😉🙈 xx
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hehehe yes, that’s definitely a card I will keep in my hand for difficult times 🙂 but for now I’m happy to try and sit through stuff and prove to myself that I have the inner strength to do so … phewwww ! 🙂 xxx Anne
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Great advice! Thank you for sharing your story.
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thank you for reading it Lisa 🙂 Looking forward to reading yours !! xxx Anne
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