Why the Hell Am I Still Sober?

This is the second in a series of posts about navigating through the unexpected. It’s based on experiences I’ve had since my father’s death last year.

A lot of legal paper pushing, hand-holding and arguing has gone into managing the building my late father left in my care. I’ve never dealt with lawyers so much in my life. Sorting out the various trusts, deeds, real-estate negotiations and environmental cleanup tasks has been a full-time job on top of my full-time job in infosec.

One of the lawyers repeatedly marvels at the fact that I haven’t been broken by it all. Specifically, he keeps asking how I haven’t crawled into a bottle of Scotch by now.

Mood music:

We laugh every time he mentions it, but I’ll be honest: I ask myself the same question every day.

I quit drinking on New Year’s Eve 2009, and it’s never been easy. I had reached the point where I felt I needed a glass or two of wine every night after work, and that was well before all the added responsibilities.

This past year, I’ve questioned my sobriety every day, wondering if it’s worth it. Sometimes, I reason to myself that a drink every evening would help keep my nerves steady. And it would give me an opportunity to enjoy myself.

But I’ve stayed sober anyway. And with good reason.

I’m an addict. If I start up again, it won’t just be one glass a night. It’ll be all the time, and I may not be able to stop once I get started. If that happens, I’ll falter in all my responsibilities.

My life may seem messy today, essentially managing two work lives. The people I deal with on a daily basis are difficult, to put it mildly. I often come home with raw nerves.

Would alcohol numb the nerves? Absolutely. But I wouldn’t stop there. I’d want to be numb every second of every day, and that would tank my writing and make me an easier target for those in the business world who want to take advantage of me.

I can’t let that happen.

Broken wine bottle

The Real Problem With Bloomberg’s Soda Ban

A state judge has struck down New York City’s large-soda ban, which was set to take effect today. Judge Milton Tingling of the New York Supreme Court called Mayor Michael Bloomberg’s public health measure “arbitrary and capricious.” I agree, though not necessarily for the same reasons.

Here’s what I jotted down last year, when Bloomberg first announced the ban. It’s my perspective as a recovering binge eater…

NYC Mayor Michael Bloomberg has generated lots of noise with his ban on uber-sized sodas. Supporters say the fight against American obesity needs to start somewhere. Opponents accuse him of leading a nanny state. Both sides are barking up the wrong tree.

Mood music:

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I look at this as an addict. My most destructive addiction involved binge eating on junk rich in flour and sugar. I had to eliminate both ingredients from my diet to regain control over my mental and physical health. If that battle has taught me anything, it’s that government can’t do a damn thing to save you from yourself.

Those who have no problem with a soda ban raise some interesting points, including Gawker’s Drew Magary, who wrote that people should “quit complaining” about the ban. He writes:

If you think that a ban on large sodas is somehow an affront to America freedom, I have news for you: You don’t live in a free country. You never have and you never will. That’s an illusion. You are not free to murder people in America. You are not free to stand in the middle of an intersection and block traffic like an asshole. You do not have the absolute freedom to do anything you want in America, and that’s a good thing, because living somewhere with absolute freedom means you live in fucking Deadwood.

New York city residents were already fully aware that Bloomberg was prone to implementing drastic public health measures, like the 2003 ban on smoking in bars. And yet, they re-elected him. In other words, New Yorkers were FREE to vote for the man who installed laws that they apparently considered both sane and reasonable. That’s how democracy works.

He’s right about the freedom part. People keep re-electing Bloomberg knowing full well that he has a track record on this stuff. And no, we’re not free to murder, steal and destroy without consequences. But I’m with those who say the laws we live by should not extend to what we do with our own bodies. The government has no business telling us what we can eat and drink.

But that’s beside the bigger point here: Regulating addictive substances does little to keep addicts from using. That’s true of heroin and coke users. It’s all the more true with alcohol and tobacco. If controlling the use of those things is so difficult, then controlling the use of perfectly legal and freely available junk food is fruitless.

We’ve been down this road before. I’m reminded of a book called The End of Overeating by David A. Kessler, MD, a former commissioner of the U.S. Food and Drug Administration under presidents George H. W. Bush and Bill Clinton. Kessler makes a compelling argument: Foods high in fat, salt and sugar alter the brain’s chemistry in ways that compel people to overeat. “Much of the scientific research around overeating has been physiology — what’s going on in our body,” The Washington Post quoted him as saying in “David Kessler: Fat, Salt and Sugar Alter Brain Chemistry, Make Us Eat Junk Food.”

For the true addict, regulation is a joke, especially if the drug is junk food. Knowing what’s in junk food won’t keep the addict away. I always read the labels after binging on the item in the package. And the labels have done nothing to curb the child obesity pandemic.

That’s the real problem with Bloomberg’s soda ban.

I liken it to recent efforts to punish McDonald’s for contributing to child obesity. As one McDonald’s restaurant put on its outdoor sign recently:

Saying your kids are fat because of us is like saying it’s Hooter’s fault your husband likes big tits.

McDonald’s is where I binged again and again when my compulsive overeating was at its zenith. But I’ve never blamed the fast-food chain. Buying its food — my heroin — was my choice and responsibility.

When you have young children, you have far more control over what they put in their bodies. If you’re an overeater yourself and you’re always stressed and on the run, you probably let your child eat this stuff all the time. If your child is fat as a result, that’s your fault, not McDonald’s.

We all have choices. When we make the bad calls, we have to own it.

If the bad choice is too many large sodas, Bloomberg can’t help us by banning the beverage, no matter how pure his intentions are.

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Sometimes, Sobriety Sucks

Some days I wish I could have a glass of wine or six. This leaves me with two choices: Fall off the wagon with zeal or stay sober and resent the world with zeal.

It’s funny, because binge eating was the addictive behavior that got me into the most trouble and I don’t get this way over the flour and sugar I used to stuff myself with.

Mood music:

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Yesterday afternoon I was really feeling it. The pressures of the day were weighing me down like a board loaded with bricks. It wasn’t even a bad day, really. I got to spend most of the work day on the back deck with Erin (I love working in the open air. It’s even better when my beautiful bride is working next to me). We got a walk in. I got a lot of work done.

And yet …

This resentment usually takes hold when I have family concerns on my mind or the work day has wiped me out. Sometimes, in that state, I want the release a buzz can provide. Since I’ve pretty much given up everything else, I badly want something I can use as my crutch. No booze. No sweets. No cigars. What else is there?

I came to my senses last night and went to bed instead of contemplating a fall off the wagon. I’m thankful that I can do that when the tension gets to be too much.

In the final analysis, I know it has to be this way, because I have absolutely zero ability to enjoy these things in moderation. When you have an addictive personality, moderation doesn’t exist. It’s as foreign a concept as walking on Mars. I have to have it all. Other addicts know this feeling.

So I have to abstain. I have no choice.

Ninety-nine percent of the time, I’m grateful the substance demons aren’t running my life anymore. It’s a freedom unlike any other. I experience more life more often as a result. It’s better that way.

But one percent of the time, I despise the universe for giving me an addictive mind. In those moments, I want a bottle of wine so badly it makes my head hurt.

I survived it last night. I’ll take satisfaction in that and move on.