Drinking Games

by Sarah Levy

I couldn’t have a “real” problem with alcohol, I reasoned, because I was smart, high-achieving, and young. I was also “healthy.”

I was perpetually hungover and spiritually bankrupt, scraping the bottom of a barrel that had nothing left for me.

I realized I hadn’t just been lying to myself about how alcohol affected me; I had been lying to myself about why I drank in the first place. I never let myself admit how hurt I was at sixteen, or twenty-four, or twenty-six. I was ashamed of having feelings, so I buried them.

But in recovery, I learned to make space for the drunk girl in me. I paid attention to the feelings and fears over which she drank, and I began to learn how to comfort us both. In time, she began integrating into the sober woman I was becoming. Together, we started to heal. Most of all, when we woke up, we remembered.

Only I knew the truth: I hadn’t been the one to stand up for myself. Vodka had done it for me.

But as new bonds formed and old ones matured, it mattered less and less what was in my glass. One day, I looked around and realized it had never mattered at all.

I heard people in my recovery meetings say that hitting bottom doesn’t have to be catastrophic; it can simply mean that we are ready to stop digging.

Because I was starting to like who I was becoming, I became a stronger advocate for myself and what I was looking for in a partner.

I didn’t stop partying because I was trying to achieve some state of enlightenment or hop on a wellness trend. I loved drinking too much for that. I got sober because alcohol was destroying my life. And I didn’t do it alone.

I had been carrying around shame over my body’s response to alcohol, but what was wrong with being powerless over a powerful substance? A person with a peanut allergy is powerless over peanuts, and she doesn’t keep trying to eat peanut butter to reclaim her power.

This is what we do as mothers and daughters. We pocket each other’s pain, smoothing it over until it becomes our own stone to carry.

People pleasing can actually be manipulative, she explained. Because it’s us trying to avoid conflict for ourselves.

the three questions she asked herself before sharing her opinion with someone. Was it true? Was it kind? Was it necessary?

Destruction always precedes creation,