Blame it

You know the term “you need a chaser?”  A chaser is that wedge of lemon after tequila, the lime in your vodka-soda, gross sugary syrup in a mix drink.  Basically it’s something to cut the alcohol, which does not taste so great but has the potential to make you feel different.  For a time alcohol was my chaser to life’s hiccups or whatever else I found reason to be stressed about but I soon learnt that it doesn’t really work.  I saw a really great quote on a Lululemon sign once about how alcohol will only make you forget the question but never give you the answer.  Those yogis are wise non?

My relationship with alcohol was perilous from the start due to the allure it held as a banned substance in my household.  Everything becomes desirable when it’s unattainable.  Growing up in a Buddhist family, alcohol was a big no-no.  Along with the baggage that comes with having strict Asian parents is the concept that Buddhists’ minds are their most sacred parts of themselves.  So losing control of it to a legal-depressant is far from ideal.  So when I could finally get my hands on it and had the freedom to do whatever the hell I wanted, I got hammered.  It took me a long time to learn about drinking responsibly and knowing my limits.  It also took me awhile to not feel the need to be drunk to have fun.

When I was pregnant and not partaking in the wine I learnt the pleasure of having an intellectually stimulating conversation without having it dull my brain.  It was also nice to never worry about a hangover.  I got more stuff done.  Surprisingly I didn’t actually want to drink again right away after my son was born.  It was close to a year in fact before I indulged which is a far cry from the “party girl” I once was.  It is just not feasible to have a late night and care for a toddler the next day.  The pain is far too great and so not worth it.  So, I’ve learnt the advantages that come with moderation.  Don’t get me wrong, I occasionally still have a jolly good time, I just hydrate and realize that my body cannot handle those 3am nights, nor does it really want to.

We’ve all moved on in our own ways, with or without the babies.  No one really wants to be that old sketchy guy at the bar.  Dude, the party’s over.  Plus, a stiff drink will never fix the situations where acceptance, resilience and character are needed.  If only it was that easy.

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