Kristy Henderson ~ Author

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A Dry(ish) January

I was out with one of my best friends the other night, catching up as we slowly strolled the freshly-designed displays at IKEA. I was telling her about the adorable activities at a recent baby shower I'd attended. “I didn't see you in the group photo on social,” she said to me as we paused in a dining room display.

“Yeah,” I said with a hint of Ooops in my voice and a sideways smile on my lips. “it's because I left before that photo was taken. I didn't tell you what I did!” I arrived at the baby shower to see an impressive group of local female cyclists, some I knew and many new faces. I was shown around and we ended by the drinks and snacks. I poured the last of a non-alcoholic rosé in my glass and looked over the beautiful desserts display and tasty snacks to fill my plate with. “There’s some NA beers and beverages in that drink tub, too” I was told. Noted, I thought to myself. I grabbed my snacks & NA rosé, mingled, did some baby-themed crafts, and eventually settled at a table with some friends I knew, content to listen to them tell all their favorite stories as I shamelessly devoured my cupcake first.

When I got up for a refill, I asked the table if anyone else needed a beverage. A friend mentioned she was doing Dry January and that she’d love an NA beer. “That's great, I'll grab us both one,” I replied with a cheerful grin. I wandered back to the tub of NA beverages, grabbed two that said ‘Pale Ale’ and went back to the table proud of my score. We both cracked open and had a drink of our beverages - it was delicious. I was blown away by how much it tasted like any regular IPA. The non-alcoholic beverage makers of today are making some amazing products, and this was definitely one of them! I took another drink, impressed by the flavor once again, so I turned the can over in my hand, looking to see who was the latest on the NA scene…

I don’t remember who made it. I can’t because my brain malfunctioned as I realized it had been a real beer all along.

I immediately caught my friend’s attention, telling her about the mistake I’d made. I offered to pour hers out since I was immediately standing to go pour out mine. She agreed and I quickly retreated to the bathroom and poured them both into the sink. I went back to the not-so-NA-drink-tub realizing I had mistakenly assumed it was only NA’s, scared of what to grab next. I wanted to get the taste of my mistake out of my mouth, but I no longer trusted my own ability to read and comprehend words. I grabbed two bottles of water and tried to settle back into my seat and the conversation continued as if nothing happened. I was reeling, afraid I was going to come undone there at the party. I am happily 4 years sober… what the hell just happened? People saw that… Here I was, someone so proud of giving up alcohol I wrote a whole book about it! And some of these women even read it!

For the next half hour I couldn't stop replaying that moment, barely able to stay engaged in the conversation. I felt distant. I felt confused how I really didn't feel anything at all. Halfway or so through the gift opening, my mind was 100 miles away. If you know me, I have no poker face (unless I’m actually playing poker), which meant I was likely frozen in a resting-bitch-face mode, far away in thought. I excused myself, saying good-bye to a couple women in the back, then disappeared quietly into the darkness outside. I needed to get home and process this on my own. (Sorry I had to leave, ladies! It wasn’t you.. it was truly me.)

I mentioned the dumb luck drink to my husband when I got home, more embarrassed than disappointed it happened. I hadn't craved a drink or felt any need for one. I hadn't intended to drink at all. I really had no reason to be mad at myself. I shouldn't be mad at myself, I thought reassuringly. Instead, I realized I was proud, for the first time in possibly my entire life, I wasn't mad at myself for making a simple mistake. Old Me would have beat myself up over it for hours, maybe days. This internal flaw was something I hadn’t realized I had until I got sober: that I never learned how to handle my emotions as a growing up, only how to bottle them up tight. Slowly, I’d fill myself like a molotov cocktail, waiting for a spark to undo my tidy yet explosive self.

Talking it through with Jay that night became a monumental moment as I realized all the energy I have been putting into learning about self-compassion was working better than I knew. “Self-compassion is simply the process of turning compassion inward”, (Dr Kristin Neff, self-compassion.org). its a powerful tool in recovery, helping replace self-criticism and negative self-speak with a greater sense of well-being. With less emotional discomfort, cravings for the addictive substance is reduced or, eventually, eliminated. It helps not only in addiction but in breaking toxic habits ingrained in you for decades, picking up a new skill or sticking with your New Years resolution. Self-compassion is how you give yourself grace. Accept small set-backs as a learning moment. Gives you patience and time to learn a new job, hobby, or way of life.

It’s how I dust myself off now and try again.

If your January wasn’t as Dry as you planned or maybe you’re just staring at that new gym membership ID wondering what you’ve done… it’s okay. Be kind to yourself and just try again.

~Kristy