Fifteen days of sobriety. Holy crap. The last time I went 15 days without any type of beverage was when I was pregnant six years ago. I wish I could say it has been easy… that the desire to have a glass of wine was not demanding the leading role in my internal brain discourse… but that would be a lie.
I have never been good with the word “no”. It’s a word that I have not mastered. As a receiver, I have had an inability to take no for an answer. What do you mean I’m grounded? Ha! I think not! We can’t afford college? Well, co-sign a loan! You don’t want to sponsor my project? You scratch my back and I’ll scratch yours! I will make this worth your while! You don’t think we should spend money on vacation/house/car/latest gadget? I will take money out of my savings! I will donate plasma! Yes! Yes! Yes!
On the flip side, and perhaps more damning, I am seemingly incapable of telling others no. Plagued with some deranged and deep seated need to please others, the inability to find my way to no has been a painful path. I have said yes to boys I didn’t want, yes to situations I shouldn’t have been in, yes to obligations I had no time for, yes to causes I had no interest in, yes to my kids when it wasn’t best, yes to opinions I didn’t agree with and yes to values I didn’t care about. Yes. Yes. Yes. As I tell my team at work, “I don’t want to tell them no, we need to find a way to yes!!!” Fuck.
The wholly ironic thing about quitting drinking is that it is all premised on no.
I have to tell myself no.
I have to tell everyone else no, thank you.