When no means no
This says it better than I ever could:
IF YOU give up drinking be prepared for battle. Your body won’t put up barriers. It will thank you but you will need your wits about you to face the barrage of astounded responses, the most common being the jovial guffaw ”Ya gotta be kidding!” closely followed by ”What’s wrong with ya?”
After developing a broken record kind of spiel to the stunned ”Why?” I changed my tactics to a sombre ”health reasons”. In the mind of the listener a plethora of horrible afflictions materialise, and their desire for further elaboration fades unless you encounter the morbid hypochondriac.
But the ”health reasons” excuse does not always have the desired effect. Many become experts on nutrition, and espouse the benefits of consuming alcohol. Some even state I am missing out on essential antioxidants required to combat Alzheimer’s, arthritis, diabetes, low blood pressure, high blood pressure, gingivitis, osteoporosis and just about any other disease you don’t want. Clearly these miracle antioxidants can be found in no other source than an alcoholic drink.
The one which surprised me the most was ”I liked you better when you drank”, but realised the delivery was through a rose-tinted glass. A dramatic pointing-at-me-with-a-wine-glass, stormily swaying this way and that and swishing overboard into the mezze plate made me realise my decision to abandon ship was the right one.
Then comes the equivocators’ ”But you don’t have a problem”. In my head I shout ”How would you know?” By the time I had described my regime of consumption – drinking every day, often drinking alone, drinking too much, buying cheap to be able to buy more, watching the clock for happy hour, searching for a designated driver like a pig for truffles – I expected a unanimous ”Good decision – you needed to give up”. But what do I get? ”Why don’t you try …” followed by lots of theories of how I could reduce my intake.
Even after explaining the changed lifestyle I am confronted with the pusher. ”Are you sure? Just one won’t hurt you.” They insist on regularly checking that you have not changed your mind and are hanging out for a drink. Would they do the same to a coeliac? ”Come on! One small cake won’t hurt you …”
I’m convinced that giving up alcohol is on a par with choosing euthanasia. Sometimes it’s got to be done, but no one wants to join you. I hope I don’t become the teetotal pariah with the invitations fading away. That will certainly reinforce my AAA – affirmation of alcoholic abstinence.
Heather Lindsay
From Heckler, Sydney Morning Herald
