In my last post, I talked about what led to my downfall at the bottom of a bottle. After about twenty years of daily drinking – but not quite heavy drinking – I began a downward spiral when my marriage ended in 2014 and I became a single mom to two young kids. The grief and stress were overwhelming and I turned to wine to ease the pain.
Two years later I was hit by another whammy when, without warning, I was laid off from my job of eleven years. Not surprisingly, this turn of events messed with my self-esteem even further and my drinking shot to a new level. Thankfully, though I was home during the day for eight months while job-searching, I did not get into the habit of daytime drinking (I can only wonder where that would have led me). But come late afternoon, the wine was out and I hit it hard.
Have you ever been in “F*** it” mode? If you have, you know what I’m talking about. “F*** it, I’m going to eat 2 helpings of dessert.” “F*** it, I’m not going to shower today.” ” F*** it, I’m going to order wine with lunch,” “F*** it, I’m going to finish off this bottle of wine I just opened a couple of hours ago.” There are many things that can drive you to F*** it mode, and losing your husband and your job successively are two of them. Of course, not everyone turns to alcohol, but that was my vice.
While all of this was happening, I was gaining weight. I’d always been slim thanks to good genes, eating well, and exercising. Sure, I put on a few pounds in my late 30s as well as after each pregnancy, but I was still at a normal weight for my height. When my shape started to get rounder and rounder, I thought I knew exactly why. It was an easy scapegoat.
When my marriage was crumbling, I started taking an anti-anxiety medication. I had suffered from severe Generalized Anxiety Disorder my entire life, but never effectively addressed it. Since my anxiety was a factor in the demise of my marriage and since the demise of my marriage made my anxiety worse, I decided it was time. I had always shunned the idea of medication, but I knew without it I quite literally might not be able to function.
It helped, immensely. Still does! But it had a known side effect of weight gain. And sure enough, about six months later I noticed my weight gradually increasing. In fact, I wrote about it in a well-received article for the Huffington Post a few years ago. Yet, strangely, at the time, I didn’t consider the other obvious reason for my growing size: The fact that I was consuming roughly 650 calories a day in alcohol (minimum), and while doing so, bingeing on food. It wasn’t unusual at all for me to polish off a bottle of red and raid my kids’ Halloween candy or make some late-night nachos on any given evening. Alcohol gave me the munchies, big time. And my body suffered for it. By now, I was used to being in denial so I blamed it on the meds. Who knows what would have happened if I hadn’t been drinking at the time. A nominal weight increase, perhaps? I could have lived with that. But 50+ pounds was another story.
I’m realizing this blog is just as much a form of therapy for myself as it is a tool to share with others the joys of life without alcohol. It turns out, my background story is long, so it looks like there will be a Part III to this post. Stay tuned…
To your health!
K.
Empty Glass; Full Life 