Travel advice. Don’t go to Dublin, Ireland, on vacation, unless you want to be reminded that you would love nothing more than to get drunk. Mr. Supportive identifies with his Irish ancestry, as does our 13-year-old daughter, who will from now on be known as ”Little Darling.” I haven’t a drop of Irish blood, but when they both said that they really wanted to go to Dublin on vacation, I went along. This was an insane decision, even if I wasn’t an alcoholic, considering the state of the US dollar compared with the Euro, but I have to let that go. What’s done is done.
All I can say is that I should’ve gone to Dublin when I was 22 instead. Actually, when I was 22, my sister and I were traveling in Italy (heeding our ancestral yearnings) and Spain (before the dawn of the Euro and when you could get a room for the equivalent of $10 a night). We planned to go to Dublin for St. Patrick’s Day but got too drunk the night before we were supposed to head out and slept all day instead. Sounds about right. So we celebrated St. Patrick’s Day in Torremolinos, Spain, on the Costa del Sol. Didn’t really matter where we got drunk, now, did it?
Pubs really are a big deal in Dublin and people cram into them every night, spilling the smokers out onto the sidewalk, where they swill beer and drag cigarettes until 4 or 5 a.m. I know how late they stay up because our hotel was adjacent to Grafton Street, the place for partiers to party. They don’t tell you this on the hotel website. They also don’t tell you that there is a bar connected to the hotel where they play Abba music until 3:30 a.m. The bar’s patio happened to be just beneath our open window, where the drinkers were drinking and the smokers were smoking. Although the night was warm, we had to keep the window closed because of the noise and smoke. My Little Darling said, “It’s not that they’re keeping me awake that bothers me. It’s that I want to be down there with them.” Ditto for mum.
When we left Ireland, we stayed with friends in England. One of these friend was my old drinking buddy. She still drinks and asked me why I couldn’t have just one sip of her beer? “What will happen? Will you explode?” No. I’ll just finish half of yours and then order my own and keep ordering until we leave and then have something to drink when we get back to the cottage and then go to sleep and wake up feeling like a stuffed cabbage and hating myself for wanting to do it again.
The problem with alcoholism is that it doesn’t go away when you stop drinking. So it’s best not to put yourself in positions where you will be tempted. Truth be told, if my Little Darling was not with us, I would have gotten drunk in Dublin (and then, of course, in England as well, and my friend would’ve been happy). There is no doubt in my mind. The thing about this method of sobriety is that my Little Darling is not always going to be with me. If all goes according to plan, she will grow up, move out, and create a life of her own. She will no longer want to go on vacation with her parents (not that she wants to now, but she has no choice). She will no longer be my excuse for staying sober. I can no longer say, I need to be sober for my daughter because she won’t need me in the same way. Of course, if she has children, I can use them as my excuse. But alas, at some point, I have to decide that I want to be sober for me. That I want to be clear headed and healthy. That I want to feel good about the decisions I make knowing that they are the best I am capable of making. I have to decide that I never want to lay in bed at 2 a.m. again hating myself for getting drunk, feeling swelled up like a sausage with my head about to pop off and stomach churning.
And so where did I go wrong? First off, it’s best to travel with people who do not imbibe. This is difficult, when your spouse drinks, even if he is not an alcoholic. But he wanted to go to the pubs and hear music, as did I. I would’ve been better off letting him go to the pubs alone and finding a theater where I could enjoy Irish entertainment without waiters asking me what I would like to drink. This permeates life. You need friends and acquaintences who do not drink. I find that people who drink really don’t want to be friends once they find out that I’m in recovery anyway. It’s no fun for them. I do have friends who don’t drink at all and those are the people with whom I share my time, celebrate my holidays, and go on my girls-only weekends. Otherwise, it is just too much of a struggle.
Secondly, I should’ve found out, in advance, where the AA meetings were being held in both England and Ireland and I should’ve planned to attend those meetings even though I was on vacation. No, especially because I was on vacation.
People in AA say, “I know I have another drunk in me. I just don’t know if I have another sobering up.” That should be reason enough for me.
