In October of 2016 I made a vow to explore the world of "boring" and while doing so, I quickly came to the conclusion that boring required me to re-evaluate my relationship with booze. I got honest and raw -- more honest with self than I had ever been. I dropped the booze for 56 days and on day 56, I decided that while making Christmas crafts it would be nice to have some red wine.
I was careful and intentional with my decision; I had 2 small glasses and with each sip I paid close attention to how it made me feel. The next day I was hungover. I was shaky and unwell; it became clear to me that alcohol and me are not mixing well any longer.
An elimination diet follows this same protocol -- you remove the suspected food for a certain period of time and then add it back in while carefully observing any symptoms that may show up. Symptoms of course suggest that there is in fact an intolerance and thus the food would be recommended to be eliminated.
I did my own experiment with booze; an elimination protocol if you may. I knew in my gut before I did the "protocol" what the answer was, but I suppose there runs a thick stream of denial in people like me with the chemical makeup that I have and I wanted more proof.
Well, I got my proof on Christmas Craft night -- the first night of advent -- but (as crazy as this will sound to those that are not made up of this addictive chemical makeup) it wasn't enough. And so I tried three more times to intentionally and carefully add alcohol in -- red wine, organic red wine, mead and white wine; all with the same effect, two small glasses equated to shakes, a headache and a nasty hangover. The signs were all there -- booze simply does not work with my body any longer.
And yet, that still was not enough.
Insane, I know.
I decided one night over Christmas to "let loose". Why? I can not tell you. I have no good reason.
I know what alcohol does. I know how it makes me feel and I know that it makes me a different person. Every time I "let loose" the tragic outcome is worse and worse and worse. It's a new experience for me to have the intensity of this reaction; I could blame it on that I suppose. But the reality of this whole situation is that something has shifted for me and darkness shows up in damaging ways and the reality is that I need help.
There is no shame in needing help.
There is no shame in having a body chemistry that rejects certain things.
I tell this story becasue I believe in the power of sharing this human experience. I will never pretend to have it all together and I will always choose to live out loud and to enter the swamps with courage and bravery. I felt no shame when I decided to reach out for therapy (well... at the time I did, but I know better now) and I feel no shame reaching out for help now.
I can not tell you the number of emails I get from people that start off by saying "Dear Kori, I have written this email to you 20 times and erased it..." do you know why this happens? Becasue reaching out takes a whole shit load of courage, it's fucking hard -- and that is why most will not do it. Too scared, too much ego, too much "what will people think?" and "I can do it on my own."
I have learned and embraced the power of leaning on our tribe for support -- we are designed to help one another and I have zero problems asking for help and I respect those that reach out for help in their own lives.
The months of October 2016 to today have been eye opening for me to say the least. I ended 2016 with hope -- such profound hope. I feel content in who I am, I feel grateful to have the husband I do and I am elated to have the business I have. I love what I do. I love who I am becoming and yet there is this thing that I am dealing with -- and so Im shedding light becasue for me it is healing.
Courage is a value in my life, a guide post, a pillar and with that I must show up in life with bravery for whatever life unfolds on my path.
Yesterday I bravely got into my car on my own and drove to my first ever AA meeting. It was potentially the scariest thing I have ever done. I sat in the room almost out of body -- almost unable to believe I was there, struggling to grasp the reality of the situation and simultaneously grateful and so fucking proud of how far I have come in this existence and excited to travel more of this journey. I'm humbled and I am ready for what is to come. I am ready to continue to do the work required of my soul.
Nope, I don't like it. I would rather a different outcome; but this is where the art of surrender comes in -- accepting what is and moving through it with grace. I can not change the facts nor am I willing to postpone personal contentment and peace by living in denial. So I open my heart to what is and I proclaim (with courage) that I am still on this wild path of healing.