You would be too…
It’s Wednesday at 5:30 PM and I’m drunk. You got a problem with that? I’m starting a Three Day Drunk and I’m doing it right the fuck now.
Here’s the thing. I’m over 40, my health is arguable, I’m seemingly anorexic levels of stress-induced skinny, my job is unreasonably challenging, and I’m more single than any of you can possibly imagine.
But none of those are the reason I’m drunk. That’s a bit more complicated.
To get to the brass tacks I’m both recently divorced and, bonus, I just got dumped.
Not just dumped, dumped by a guy that wasn’t really even my type, got back together with this chick with whom he cheated on his wife, and never actually told me… just kind of went away. I found out on Facebook. Still not sure if he knows I know, or if he cares.
Am I perfect? Absolutely not. Did I deserve that? Abso-fucking-lutely not.
So here I am. Drinking to numb the pain. Pain, or embarrassment? I can’t say I know the difference at the moment.
I have to say, on the surface I’m not the worst choice ever. I spend 5 hours a week at the gym, I eat healthy, I have a bachelors degree, I’m less than 15% body fat at 5’4″, I’m a DD cup , and I have a pretty decent ass. I like to think I have a fun personality and I’m a better than average dancer.
I have a fucking thigh gap for christ sake.
But evidently there was someone better. She lives in Mexico, and she has history with him that I never actually wanted but in which (with my current perspective) I can see the value. Want to watch a tattooed democrat vote for a wall? Here it is.
I’m not big on sulking, I don’t do despair or depression well. These aren’t my style. The solution was simple: A Three Day Drunk
A friend of mine once told me “there’s no breakup that should ever take more than 3 drunks to get past.”
Simple on the surface, but there’s a strategy.
Drunk 1: The introduction to the issue. You’re honest with yourself, you uncover everything that needs to be addressed, and you embrace that shit. All of it.
Drunk 2: This is a bridge drunk, here you can be embracing or you can be rationalizing, or you can be something in the middle. Drunk 2 is a great drunk for destroying his/her things, or setting all his/her social feeds so that you don’t see them automatically when you open up your app.
Drunk 3: This drunk is the most critical drunk of them all. This is when you remember who the fuck you are.
So today, just like I did all the way through my 20s and 30s, I was putting the Three Day Drunk to the test.
This is Drunk One. On one of the busiest days of the work year a good friend and coworker, seeing I was a bit in the dumps, took me out for a drink after our last meeting of the day.
Until that 2nd manhattan I guess I wasn’t really ready to admit I miss this guy. He was my Captain America, I (regretfully) trusted him, though I knew better. I gave into my deepest desire to give up control without so much as a litmus test to discover if he could handle it.
Even now, in the throes of drunk number 1, I’m starting to realize I just miss the company. There’s something about having a person to talk to – a person with whom you can share that one thing, or even just the person who will smile at you and make you forget about that shitty thing that happened just hours earlier.
I think the divorce is key to this. My divorced husband was there, every day, all day. He was unemployed for… well… years before I kicked him out. But what I didn’t acknowledge at the time was that part of my life that ex-husband actually did fulfill.
I mean, he soaked up my money, my energy, and created a shit ton of debt… he ruined my house, threatened to take everything I own, and made me hate the idea of marriage. That being said, he was also constantly there. He was someone for me to talk to, and he at least tried to empathize with my bullshit comments and complaints. He hated the people I hated, and often made me think twice about the people I wanted to trust.
During Day One drunk I realized my ex-husband wasn’t so bad after all. My Day One drunk allowed me to accept I have some shit lingering in that spot where my ex existed and I need to tidy it up.
As I close out my Day One drunk I thank my starter boyfriend… thank you for helping me remember this sting, this feeling. I appreciate the opportunity to reflect and get better.
But also, fuck you, starter boyfriend. You’re a dick.
Stay tuned for Day Two.