“I will no longer make decisions fueled by gin and pity!” the declaration left my lips while I was on the phone with my best friend.
She laughed, and said that it sounded like a Facebook status, so later on that day, I posted it.
I got a couple texts, making sure I was okay; people were worried I was drowning my sorrows in gin, or that something had happened–backlash from the few months where I did make decisions fueled by gin and self-pity, I suppose. One friend even teased me, assuming that my post was connected to some impulsive gin-fueled behavior.
I knew the post would be interpreted that way. I knew friends would immediately connect my declaration to the idea of my semester of spending my nights at the bar–not an unusual thing, for the graduate students in the English department, but quite the unusual thing for me.
What my friends didn’t know was that I wasn’t talking about decisions made impulsively at the bar, fueled by gin. I meant the decisions fueled by self-pity, that led me to the bar, to spend my time forgetting instead of confronting.
It’s true that, since I’ve moved to a different town, I don’t drink much; just a beer once in a while. But I also don’t try to avoid my life. Instead, I’m working to make the life I have resemble the life I want. Instead of pitying myself for the things I’m coping with in my life, I came to the realization that I was just doing my work, and actually enjoying my work.
Life wasn’t fixed, but somewhere I managed to release my guilt and shame and just get back to, well, life.