My river trip has me renewed, refreshed, and reprioritized. Thank you to all who commented and emailed (last week’s post). The three day rule was right on schedule.

Timely, because camping at the Colorado River was one of my drinking hotspots. It, generally, fell into the life-is-great-let’s-get-drunk category. It struck me, however, how much I used to love alcohol. An alcoholic’s heaven, the Colorado River … everyone is drinking and most to excess. It was in this atmosphere that others, hopefully, didn’t notice my worship of the next chilled bottle.

For an active alcoholic revering alcohol seems ridiculous. We know that we like it, but that’s about as far as we think it through. And if we do admit we revere alcohol, it is done in jest. The impact of these words earnestly heard brings confusion, even pain. Even worse, we think it’s the alcohol we long for—it’s not. It’s the escape we so desperately crave. The drug of choice is the vehicle that gets us away.

Away from what? Whatever is so unbearable, unbelievable, uncomfortable, unknown, misunderstood, mistaken?

We label addiction: disease, disorder, dysfunction, disability. The solution, however, remains the same. If we choose to put something in our body that does not agree with our body we are making a choice to harm self. The solution is to make a conscious choice to behave differently.

All addicts in recovery were irritated with this solution. We professed our right to drink at every opportunity. That’s how much we depended on alcohol to survive. We’d spend our last breath proclaiming we did not need alcohol; we just “wanted” it every day.

The issue isn’t, should I stop drinking. The issue is, I won’t stop drinking. We won’t because we don’t have working knowledge of how truly magnificent we are alcohol and drug free.

If I have trouble stopping once I start, my solution is … DO NOT START.  I get the opportunity to find a new way to live life … alcohol and drug free. I have the chance to find a new identity, one that doesn’t include an altered mind.

I’ve yet to meet anyone who can share how alcohol enriched their live for the long run, certainly no alcoholic.  Alcoholics just keep drinking because they don’t know what else to do. Even when the stakes are high, they drink and lie, and then drink and lie some more.

If we find we are struggling to stop drinking, WE HAVE A DRINKING PROBLEM. We have an unhealthy, unnatural, unnecessary dependency on a substance. We require help. We stop pretending we don’t have a problem. We stop pretending we can manage it. We stop thinking it will get better—tomorrow. We stop hoping it will go away on its own. None of this is happening.

Are these really the most important choices I’m making today? Is this what life has come to?

  • To drink or not to drink?
  • To try and manage controlled drinking or not?
  • To profess my legal right to drink?
  • To assert my need to drink because of my situation?
  • To exclaim my happiness and celebrate with a black out?

As I drove the boat back to the launch ramp and watched the party-goers chugging I felt so happy for me. I am content in my skin today. Even after a few rough days. I would never change being present for life for a beer on the river.

A beer on the river, for a girl like me, isn’t just a beer on the river. It starts as a beer, but quickly becomes: a disagreement, rude and obnoxious behavior, sunburned and hungry kids, probably an argument or a lost boat key, and definitely a lost memory, an angry husband, and finally, a black out. And to top it all off I get to listen to you tell me what I did yesterday because I don’t remember.

Is it easy to learn to live clean and sober? No. Is it doable? Yes.

Drinking is not fun. It’s a nightmare. Your reverence for escape can end—today. Choose again.

Lisa Neumann is a recovered alcoholic, recovery coach and the author of “Sober Identity: Tools for Reprogramming the Addictive Mind”