Sober on the Road
Last week, my family and I went on a week-long road trip for the first time. I stayed sober for all of it. Here are some pieces of what I learned.
1. Road tripping with three young kids will never be relaxing, especially if alcohol is involved.
We drove from Minnesota to Texas and back in a span of seven days. A few nights we got to the hotel quite late, and as it turns out, getting in and out of a van throughout the day lends itself to hyperactive, over-tired kids no matter what time they’re introduced to their new beds. I am so thankful that my older two kids did not fight a whole lot, but they did seem to activate each other (and the toddler) quite reliably the moment the door to the room unlocked. No amount of shushing, reminders or threats penetrated their cute little skulls, probably because at that point their bodies were overriding their ears. Of course we took several breaks and stops throughout the day, and finally when we made it to Austin we stayed at the same place for three nights. Regardless, my kids were very much awake well past their normal bedtimes.
When I was drinking, I’d be sure to have something — anything — in my hand the moment I got out of the car. I’d think of alcohol as my reward. Inevitably, my attention shifted to my drinking, and then I obsessed about whether to have another and then another. I wouldn’t be present to help. I’d be resentful. I’d be pouty. I’d be annoyed that I couldn’t have fun or relax. I’d go to bed and wake in the morning with a headache, which would add to my resentment and detachment. This past week, I was sober and clear-headed. It was our Spring Break, a first for our family of young kids after two years of stressful schooling situations. Yes, some people might call it a “vacation,” but I don’t think I’ll ever consider a trip like this a vacation because our kids are so young they — my toddler especially — are dependent on us for everything. There is no space for relaxation.
Which is what I thought alcohol provided. Relaxation, artificial as it may be. A buffer, somehow, to the prickling discomforts from being away from home. On this trip, I slept poorly. I was sober and awake much of the night. My toddler slept with us every night, and sometimes I shared a bed with one of my older kids, too. So no, not even sleeping was restful. But, knowing that I’d sleep poorly and knowing that my energy would be sparse is exactly why staying away from alcohol was important. I needed to take what I could get. Deliberately giving myself a headache would have been the wrong choice.
2. Every new situation in these first few months and years of sobriety presents new opportunity to overcome cravings.
One night on the trip, my husband, who still drinks (he does not have an addiction to alcohol and does not drink problematically), plunked down the ice bucket full of ice and nestled a single beer inside. At that moment, my heart sank. For him, for me, for us. I felt grief in my stomach. I felt dislocation like a bone popped from its socket. We used to drink together. We used to look forward to spending time alone in the evenings, when we could, and letting alcohol undress the day for us. Now he does it alone. This was the single most difficult craving I had, and it wasn’t that I wanted to drink the beer. I wanted to be there for him, with him, like I used to be. I wanted to step outside myself to be closer to him. I felt foolish and selfish. I changed my relationship with alcohol and in so doing, I changed my relationship with my husband. I changed our marriage.
He is supportive of this change. I know I’m healthier without drinking. I know I was handing over whatever control I have in this life as I was drinking more and more each day. I was being eaten by it. But the grief is real, and the change is hard, and the work of it now is finding a healthy alternative.
3. I can remember.
I was not a black out drunk. But I was a drink-to-oblivion drinker. I’m embracing the idea that I’m an empath, and I’m beginning to recognize that I process emotions much before I even consider details or quantifiable facts. I hear the music before I can begin to listen to the lyrics.
Alcohol slowed me down. I am now clear enough to see that I feel the feelings first and that I do have the ability to get to details, I just have to work with my body in order to process the emotions before I’m able to get into the rest. When I was drinking, I didn’t have that understanding about myself, and so I never really got out of my own way. I now am assembling a process for myself and a better understanding of the way in which I take in information. I’m able to remember, if I give myself the right tools to do so. I can remember details of the trip that I wouldn’t have caught if I were drinking.
There are so many firsts unfolding. I am nearly to the longest stretch of consecutive days of sobriety I’ve ever had, apart from my pregnancies. I look forward to what’s next.
