I’m coming up on my one year anniversary of weight loss surgery on the 12th. I’ll do a blog post about the stats with that on the 11th.
Today’s post is about a side effect, or a cause, or a redirection maybe, of addiction. It’s about alcohol.
Last night, I got slurred stupid off of two cups of wine. I’m not going to lie—they were not small cups either. The apples didn’t help much, except as maybe a food source. I don’t have an excuse or a reason for drinking last night other than it felt good and I wanted it.
Before surgery, I might have gone through a six pack of beer in a few days. It tasted good and I enjoyed the relaxed feeling that came from it and stayed with me. I wasn’t chasing demons or anything like that, not like what I was doing when I was in my earlier 20’s. There were days I still wanted to get smashed to the point of being sick, but that wasn’t for any of the reasons that I’ve heard people say before. I also wasn’t one who thought drinking before noon was cool, although I spent much of my 23rd and 24th years of life showing up for work hungover. Fun, right? Not really, but it happened. Moving on.
After surgery… I’m not even sure where to start. One drink can either hit you like a ton of bricks within minutes or several hours later, but you feel it in different way than before.
Food and eating it can be an addiction. Please don’t tell me it can’t be; a recovering foodie here, so I know. It’s one of the few used substances that is completely accessible in so many different forms and companies make billions of dollars to create food that makes us want to eat it—constantly. All because without food, we don’t survive very long.
For me, food was a comfort. I didn’t know how to work through feelings growing up. I didn’t care a lot of the times, and we moved around so much as kids that keeping friends wasn’t the easiest thing to do. Every year, new school, new people to meet, etc., until 6th grade, and then I was the weird kid. Not really going to get into that too much; I’ll save that for therapy. But, hey, excuses right?
I’ve always been fat and have always turned to not-so-great food choices. When I left home a month before my 18th birthday, I started drinking. It didn’t replace food, but it become something that went with food and made me feel good. Sometimes, it was the only thing that helped me get from day to day, just numb enough that I could over look problems but not so numb I couldn’t function.
After surgery, I took a shot for New Year’s Eve. I was fine. I made it most of the way through January without drinking; had a sip at dinner and almost didn’t eat anything because I was full. Tiny stomach equals not much room for things. Went another month and some change and had a beer with a friend. Started drinking beers once every few weeks and gradually increased the intake, until Thanksgiving this past week, with a beer before noon and then three glasses of wine in about three hours. I was floating and happy and I was pushing my limits. I’d been pushing my limits all year long actually.
Why so much (Because…reasons)?
Didn’t I eat (Yes, and Ray had to take my plate from me because I’m used to eating a lot at Thanksgiving; some habits never stop being habits)?
Am I depressed (With work, yes; life in general, no. I just completed a first draft of my next book; who would be upset with that)?
Demons finally catching up to me (Maybe)?
News flash: Alcohol, like food, is addictive. When you have surgery, what they tell you is that you should avoid alcohol, at least for the first year. Well, there’s a good reason for that: You just had surgery to help curb one addiction, they didn’t want you needing to cope with another!
It’s damn hard getting past one addiction when all I really want right now is to take a bite out of a Red Robin cheeseburger without being full off that one bite, or to have a slice of cheesecake without getting the sugar shakes and needing to fall asleep as soon as possible because my body can’t deal with the sugar content. That last happened with a slice of apple pie last week; wasn’t expecting it, but boy was I happy I was at home.
This surgery thing is not easy, and there are plenty of ways to still screw up. But I wouldn’t make a different decision because losing what I have has let me do so much more with my life and with my wife.
So, I just admitted I have a problem. Now what?
Listening to: My writing mix
Quote of the Day: “Hold yourself responsible for a higher standard than anybody expects of you. Never excuse yourself.” ― Henry Ward Beecher