They say the first step is admitting you have a problem and one of the biggest signs that you do is denying it. I wouldn’t say I have a ‘problem’ I’d say it’s more everyone else. I’m just fine; I like me. It’s everyone else that seems to disagree. Admitting that everyone else has a problem seems like that should be a pretty good first step, right? Okay, that’s the bottle(s) talking. But who else is going to talk? If they didn’t I sure as shit wouldn’t say much. That can’t be a good sign either. Was going mute one of the ‘signs’ they talked about? I don’t think it was. They say I get mean when I drink. Really mean. I say things I don’t really mean (or do I?). I say things I shouldn’t say (or should I?). I get mad and fly off the handle (more like to it). Life isn’t all that bad, I just like to have a good time and sometimes, things get in the way of my good time.
Things like my husband (pop open a beer), his job (pour me a glass of wine), my kids (make me a mixed drink), their spouses (one for each hand), their kids (time for shots!), and whatever else would like to tramp through my back door wanting help of some kind (I’ll just hit the bottle on second thought). Can’t they see I’m drinking here? Okay. Okay. This has got to stop. I love my kids, my grandkids and my husband. This is crazy. I’ve tried to quit before and I did for a little while here and there. But old habits die hard, especially the fun ones.
I’ve been through Alcoholics Anonymous too many times to go back; they know me now. Most rehab programs through churches want you to admit there’s a higher power. I’m all for admitting there’s a God but what does he have to do with my drinking? I just can’t make a strong enough connection to keep me away from the booze. So what am I going to do? Just quit cold turkey? Yea that’ll work. I’ll pour all the liquor down the drain, be hung-over for a day and then sober for maybe two. Then it’s time to go grocery shopping and you know the liquor store is right next door so why not stop in and pay my friends the cashiers a visit? Not a very good plan. I can see the pit falls in it already.
They say it helps to have a strong support system from people close to you. I learned that at some of the AA meetings. I believe it. It’s good to know your family and friends are proud of you (or at least not embarrassed by you). It’s good to know how much happier they are when you are away from the booze (it’s so good to be able to make them feel that way). It hurts to know how much you hurt them, but the best part is knowing they love you. But it isn’t enough. I don’t want to make excuses here but they say alcoholism is a disease-- a bad one. And let me tell you; there’s a picture of me next to the word in medical dictionaries. Isn’t that terrible? The people who mean the most to you-- they just aren’t enough to keep you away from it. It’s because deep down inside you know they’ll love you either way.
So what to do? This has got to stop. My friend Jack isn’t such a friend to me anymore. My youngest son is about to get married; I’ve got grandkids and more on the way. I want them to stay with me; I want to play with them. I don’t want my kids, their parents, to worry when they leave their precious babies at Granny’s house. I’ve got to change. I can’t stay mean. What if I don’t though? What if I can’t again? What if I don’t change…. What if something else does? Yes! Why should I be the one to change?! I like me just fine and so does everyone else. I’m not the one who needs to change; it’s my habit that needs to change! I have to tell Bill!
Bill! I’m done! I know I’ve said it before but I really am this time! I’ve got a brand new plan that’s really going to work.
“ ’Ill, I’m-nun! I know I said-it-for but I realllllyyyyyy am this ti! I gotta rand n-plan thas really gonna werk.” Hmmm…. That didn’t sound like it came out quite like it was supposed to.
“What was that Mary?”
No. No I guess I might be slurring a little after all. I’ll try again.
“Doll, sit down before you fall and hurt yourself.”
He doesn’t get it. He just thinks I’m drunkenly rambling like usual. Shit. No. I’m fine! But listen! I’m going to change! I promise this time.
“NO! I’m-Fine! Lissssen! I’m gonna change! Promissss time…”
He sighs. He looks at me. He looks tired, maybe even a little sad. He stands and walks over to me. Did he understand and just not believe me? Or is he giving up for tonight?
“I love you doll, I’m going to bed.” He bends down and kisses the top of my forehead. I know I reek. How could I not? He’s so good to still kiss me good night. He walks down the hall and I hear the door to our bedroom close. Suddenly my legs aren’t working and I’ve sunk into the easy chair next to me that faces the couch where Bill was sitting. I stare at where he was, wishing he were still there, wishing I were sober enough for him to understand. Would he believe me anyway? I’ve let him down so many times before. Maybe I could just surprise him. One morning he’ll wake up and I’ll be not drunk for the rest of our lives together. I want another drink. I try to muster the coordination to stand; it fails me. Maybe another drink isn’t what I need. But I am going to need help.
The next day is beautiful. It’s warm and sunny. I’m sitting at my kitchen table, staring out the picture window fighting my way up through a fuzzy brain and nicotine high. I just finished a cigarette. I light another one. I don’t know why. I don’t even want one. I hold it in my hand and watch the smoke curl and purr through the light rays. My hangover is mostly gone by the time Scott and Jenny walk through the garage door.
“Hey there mom!” Scott booms. He walks over to me and kisses me on the cheek as I stand to hug him. His nose wrinkles at the smell of me and gives me a once over. His conclusion: I’m sober, but I wasn’t last night. I smile meekly at him.
“Hey there Mrs. Edge!” Jenny coos from behind Scott. I fight past him to her.
“Jenny, sugar, what did I tell you about that?! If you are going to marry my son you are going to have to call me Mary.” It makes her smile. She has a beautiful smile.
“Where’s dad?”
“Upstairs in his woodshop.”
Scott rushes off to visit with Bill, probably to ask him about my drinking, and leaves me alone with Jenny. Perfect.
“Sit down Lov-in’ come visit with me!” Jenny sits. “You want a smoke?”
“Uhh no thank you Mrs—Uhh Mary.”
“Jenny, can I ask you something?”
“Sure.”
“You know these are the 80’s we are living in and it is a wild time.” How do you go about this? How do I ask this?
“Yes Ma’am.”
“Well, do you ever do wild things?” She smiles at me and shrugs.
“I don’t think they are wild now but I’m sure I will when I look back on them.” This girl is smart.
“Jenny, if I had a problem—would you help me?”
“Of course! I’d do anything I could!”
“Well, That’s good because I have to admit, I do have a problem.” She looks concerned.
“What’s wrong?”
“You know I have a—err—problem when it comes to drinking?”
“Yes, I know.” She fidgets a little when she confesses to having noticed. She doesn’t want to be impolite I can tell.
“Well I want to change.”
“That’s great, Mary!”
“Yes, I think it’s a good idea too but you see I’m going to need your help.”
“Sure! Of course! Anything!”
“Now I know you kids and your hippie stuff. Don’t think I’m ignorant. Scott is the sixth of five children—I know better. And you and him, well you two strike me as the hippie type. Don’t worry; relax. I love you two that way and wouldn’t change it for a thing.” She smiles that beautiful smile again. “So I’m gonna need your help now you see?”
“Well… yes, but what are you asking me for?”
“Honey, I’ve decided I’m gonna quit drinking and start smoking pot instead.” Her jaw drops.
“Are… Are you serious?”
“Yep, I think it’s the only way. Just gonna replace one bad habit with another. I heard the dope makes you happy and calm; I don’t want to be mean anymore. But now I don’t want to get caught and you know I love to garden. I mean just look at all those pretty flowers out there. So I want to grow my own. That way I can have it whenever I want it and there won’t be any ‘deals’ going on.”
“Oh…. Okay, So what do you need from me?”
“Well do you think you could give me your old seeds? I know you kids don’t do anything with them cause I find them scattered all over the back porch on Sunday mornings after ya’ll have been over. A seedling plant would be even better but I’ll take what I can get.”
“Ummm… Sure Mary. I’ll see what I can do for you.”
“Thanks, you’re a doll. Really. Oh and I don’t care if you tell Scott but tell him not to let this get back to Bill yet. I want this to be a surprise.”
“I’m sure it definitely will be.”
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