Alcoholism

The Ghost of Drinking: Reflections on Sober Travel

The Ghost of Drinking: Reflections on Sober Travel

The phenomenon has revealed itself over time. In the beginning, traveling was nail-bitingly stressful and not fun at all. It took time for me to appreciate the concept of traveling without imbibing, to rewrite all those tracks in my brain that said the only way traveling would be a full experience was if I was drinking my way through it. For a while—like a couple years—I equated new places with the uprush of intoxication. It felt sad, boring, and incomplete to even imagine a vacation unpunctuated with cocktails, let alone actually do it.

7 Tips to Sleep Better Naturally

7 Tips to Sleep Better Naturally

I’ve become fairly obsessed with sleep in recent years. Since getting sober, sleep has become a true spiritual practice for me. It’s a daily, practical practice that I take as sacred and imperative to my sanity. It is probably my number one self-care practice and a total non-negotiable. With that, I bring you seven things that have brought me better sleep.

Alcohol Poured Gasoline on My Anxiety: The Truth About Women, Motherhood, and Drinking

Alcohol Poured Gasoline on My Anxiety: The Truth About Women, Motherhood, and Drinking

I remember so looking forward to drinking again once I had her. I missed the release, the inclusion, the socializing, the softening. Almost immediately after she was born I went back to it, joining in at parties with my husband and baby in tow, having my girlfriends over or going to their house for wine like we had been doing for years. One time, just a couple weeks after she was born, I walked in a snowstorm to my friend’s place a few blocks away, just to try and feel like my “old” self for a few minutes. I barely drank one glass of wine before I felt so ill I had to trek home. I had mastitis.

Furious Mom

Furious Mom

I'm furious the alcohol industry is allowed to get away with peddling their drug in all its cheap and beautifully packaged guises in broad daylight. Right next to where I buy my kids veggies and milk. It should be sold in a seedy dark back alley in a shop with the windows blacked out (symbolism) where you have to ring a doorbell to gain entry and walk past a slobbering, growling Rottweiler to get to the dealer to ask for your Rose.