Today I learned that I’m not ready to tell everyone why I’m not drinking. I’ve written about this before. It’s not a terribly new thing for me. But it hasn’t changed much either.
we were out for dinner tonight with old friends. i order tea with dinner, Mr. Belle orders an italian kind of cola.
one of the friends says to me: “you’re not having any wine with your dinner? not even a glass? or how about a beer?”
me: “I’m not drinking these days.”
me: “it’s been awhile now.”
and then Mr. Belle chirps up with: “i’ve stopped drinking altogether. I was drinking too much and now i’ve stopped entirely.”
her: “that’s great.”
me (still doing my own thing): “i find i sleep better, i spend less money, i weigh less, i feel better.”
and inside, i was kind of irritated with my husband for saying that he drank too much (because he didn’t). But he felt he drank too much TO HIMSELF, and that’s all anyone can say about anything. But it did made me feel like he was telling that story for me, and that’s not the version of the story i wanted these people to know.
but i don’t control him, or what he says, or even what he says about me. they’re his friends, anyway, not even my friends. He knows best what to say and how to say it. He may have handled it just like that so that this couple don’t ask him again, repeatedly, if he wants a drink.
And on the way home, i really had to admire my husband’s ‘bravery’. He’s such a fucker like that. He can just say “i was drinking too much” and then talk about the weather.
i admire him. I’m not where he is. I’m OK with either evolving over time to a different place, AND I’m OK with the fact that I may never be there. I can’t tolerate a whole bunch of “you’re not sober until you’ve told every fucking person on the planet the entirety of your personal business, including all the shitty people you hate.” I’m on day 372 and i’m doing fine. Mr. Belle is on day 81. He’s clearly doing fine, too…