For a long time, I didn’t think alcohol was part of my problem. Oh, I was a drug addict for sure. No doubt about it. The doctor-shopping, the burning-up-the-highway, and the dozens of pills I ingested every day for YEARS proved that full well. But alcohol? I wasn’t sure about that. I mean I liked drinking – don’t get me wrong – but I HATED getting drunk. In fact, I can’t remember the last time I got drunk.
But somewhere near the beginning of this journey of sobriety, a light bulb switched on. I think I was sitting in a group therapy session in treatment while a counselor talked about how alcohol was a drug and that oftentimes we (the patients) didn’t even associate it as such. He furthered his point by asking us to think about all the times we used our drugs of choice. He let us ponder the question for a moment and then asked this, “Now how often did a drink accompany your using?”
Boom!
It hit me right then, right there. As my mind flipped through my mental hard drive, I could visualize myself pouring a Red Bull vodka almost as soon as I walked in the door each night, right before I got high. I could not believe this had so easily slipped through my defenses. For goodness sakes, I would so regularly stop by this one specific liquor store that the front desk dude knew my name. That should have probably been my sign right there, but for whatever reason, it wasn’t.
The aftereffects of that group session have weighed on me heavily over the last few years (almost four!). Why? I think primarily the reason is this: because alcohol is so prominent in our culture, and so easily accessible. It’s everywhere we go and is always being shoved in our faces as a great way to have fun, relax, make friends, find our soulmates, solve problems… the list goes on and on. I suppose if grocery stores, gas stations and restaurants sold lines of OxyContin I’d probably ponder that addiction with the same regularity as I do my alcoholism.
Truth is I don’t. I rarely think about pills but I often ponder alcohol. That old pesky voice in my head comes out every now and again to say…
“Lance, you’re not really an alcoholic.”
“What’s one beer gonna hurt?”
“No one even knows you in this city; you can have some wine.”
Just last week I was out with friends (normies), and the majority of the table ordered beers. It didn’t bother me; I want people to do what they do. If you drink, drink. If you smoke, smoke… But what happened after that left me confused and perplexed: all the guys who ordered beers quit after the first one. No one ordered three more beers with dessert or a shot to go.
At first I found this so strange that it almost made me mad. I mean, what was wrong with these people? It kind of reminded me of high school when I would get upset that no one else wanted to smoke weed at the party but me. As these thoughts were all colliding in my head, a moment of clarity arose.
I realized yet again that I am different. My thoughts aren’t normal thoughts, because I’m not a normal person. And that’s okay! Today, because of a lot of hard work, a ton of pain, and a front row seat to the death of many, many close friends at the hands of this brutal disease, I can accept myself for who I am.
I can’t drink like a normal person, but you know what? They can’t do many of the things I can do either. The same goes for you. You may have your list of things you can’t do…
-Can’t drink
-Can’t smoke
-Can’t eat certain things
-Can’t watch certain movies
-Can’t be around certain people
-Can’t look at social media
-Can’t go certain places
-Can’t gamble
-Can’t watch porn
-Can’t be in relationship
If you’re trying to be healthy in any way, shape or form, there will be a few “CAN’TS” in your life. But the old saying rings true for me and you today: our can’ts become cans the moment we accept ourselves for who we are and choose to turn the negative into a positive.
Because I can’t drink, I can be alive to watch my kids grow up.
Because I can’t drink, I can impact the lives of other people for eternity.
Because I can’t drink, I can have energy, time and money to devote to things that matter.
Because I can’t drink, I can tell my story to thousands of people across the world.
Because I can’t drink, I can now live! And that’s worth it to me.
Today I am thankful for WHAT I CAN’T DO.
Don’t let your can’ts keep you from finding your cans. God has a plan, and it starts with a CAN!
Hope is Alive!
