Finding my Willpower

The other day, I wrote a post discussing my thoughts on my DUI and how it has affected my life. It definitely caused me to pause and reflect on how out of control my life has become. Not as an alcoholic, but in my lack of control of myself, my emotions and my actions.

Today, for the first time in 5 months, I drove to work. I could have gotten a restricted license 4 months ago, but I was afraid of driving again and waited until I felt I was ready. It also happened that today my company sponsored a drinking event after work. While I am not an alcoholic (according to my DUI class last night), I do find it difficult to refuse a drink when I am at a bar and the rest of my team is sharing a seemingly unlimited supply of wine.

I knew I had two options — either not drink, or have a drink and find another way home. Given I have not driven in 5 months, and how much I enjoy the freedom of driving, I found willpower to not drink. Yes, it was hard for me not to have any wine, when all of my co-workers (many of whom were going to drive home) were drinking multiple glasses, but I knew I had no other choice if I was going to drive. In addition to never wanting to drink anything and drive again, I have a 3 year probation with 0 tolerance, so I can’t even have a glass of wine and get behind the wheel. That’s for the better — it helps me focus on putting myself in social situations with lots of alcohol around and not drink, in case I ever need to drive home in the future after such a social event.

It is difficult — and frustrating — to be in a culture where it’s almost considered acceptable to drink and drive. Of course, no one thinks it’s acceptable to get shit-faced drunk and get behind the wheel, but I’m confident that many people have a couple of beers and think they’re “just tipsy” and fine to drive home, and they do. It’s frustrating because most of these people never get caught, not that I’d want them to suffer, but it’s also crazy how in my DUI class there are people who had .14% – .25% BACs and they are still upset they were in trouble.

The DUI class itself is fascinating. Yesterday was the last of my 10 “education” classes, which are now followed with 5 “process” classes. I have to pay about $650 for these classes. I’ve never spent a lot of time with people who drink a lot or party, but the class makeup is extremely mixed. You do have the people who clearly like to party and went out drinking the night away and woke up a hospital bed. But you have others who had a few drinks at the bar, thought they were ok to drive (or at least more ok than their friend who they went out with) and ended up being busted just over the legal limit because their light was out or for some other reason, unrelated to their driving.

Yesterday’s education class was a good one to end on, for this section of the program. The topic of the day was “addiction.” It was extremely sad to hear the stories of my fellow classmates, many of who had alcoholics for parents. One woman had a realization in the class that her husband was an alcoholic and she was gravely concerned that he was giving booze to her teenage kids who were drinking and driving, as she had given up drinking entirely since her arrest. Others are just angry they were caught and claim they felt fine while driving, even at .16% BAC and higher. It’s funny that I get angry at them, such as a guy who had a .23% and was driving with kids in his car at the time, and I want to shout “dude, you had three kids in your car and a .23% BAC, you have no right to be angry at the police.” I think we all judge each other, but in the end our punishments are the same, no matter if we were just over the legal limit or well over it, with or without kids in the car (well this guy’s lawyer was apparently really good.)

While I didn’t relate to being addicted to alcohol, persay, the topic of addiction really hit home for me because of my food addiction. Sometimes that does seep over to alcohol but for the most part I drink when I’m with people, and don’t hide my drinking. I do often hide my binge eating. And the addiction topic made me reflect on just how important it is to have willpower. So today, when I was at the bar, I forced myself not to have a drink. I knew I wouldn’t drive home if I had even a sip, but it wasn’t worth it. Just like junk food is evil and uncessary, so is alcohol. It’s a shame it’s so accepted as part of our social culture. I’d rather avoid it entirely. They don’t preach total abstience in class, but ultimately I don’t understand the point of drinking if it’s not to escape and have a good time, which often amounts to doing something embaressing or having a lapse of judgement. It’s very hard not drinking around other people who are drinking, and I hate seeming so stiff, but ultimately I think I need to quit drinking for good — along with junk food — and any other form of binging that I seem to have such a talent for. Only when I can learn how to avoid binging on anything bad for me will I be able to be a healthy person.

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Desire for Chaos, Lust for Stability

Is the meaning of life chaos or consistency? I hunger for wealth, but why? Beyond this “wealth” seeming impossible to achieve, I lust for a life of guided spontaneity, for someone, or someones, to take me out of my comfort zone, to force me to live a life of some sort of excess; perhaps one of indecency, of sin and vice, of gluttony or lust, of jumping out of metaphorical airplanes and pulling the rip cord moments before slamming into the earth, the adrenaline rush of youthful risk, with everything to lose at a moment’s notice; instead of coming home to warm, cozy, love, security, and sleep.

It’s so easy to forget how awful it is to be alone, how awful it is to be amidst the chaos, how any longing to live a life of deep emotional turmoil, passionate kisses, hellos and goodbyes, is not what one should want, or does want, when presented that fate in the moment. I spent my entire life feeling so alone, and with him I’m home. I’m not traveling the world, I’m not out at the symphony, I’m not sharing a $100 bottle of Chianti in the Italian countryside, or over a gourmet dinner, or bringing home another woman to the bedroom, or seducing someone who I’ve longed to have, or having that seduction reversed, where I’m the prize, won in a fight of an intellectual bullfight where each glance is a flick of a red cape.

Yet I’ve never felt at home amongst artists, emotional yet pretentious, nor businessmen, competitive with a constant hunger to win, nor housewives, humble caretakers who find happiness in being someone else’s home. I feel at home with him. We have stillness. Our love is the clearest night when thousands of stars twinkle across the sky. It is the calmness of a puddle that forgot the downpour from which it came. And that is what I see in the future of my life: a glorious puddle. No more want, no more desire, no more longing. It’s all here, whether I make millions of dollars or get by on a salary of less than what I make now, I don’t understand how wealth helps matters any — with it I’d have an option not to work, but I could never not work, I don’t enjoy quiet time, I’d be terribly bored, I can’t live with stillness, I can’t even allow my mind to shut off to sleep; instead I stay awake and try to understand the future that this path is leading me on, try to comprehend my choices as another year has turned its final page to the next chapter.

What do other millennials do for fun? According to my Facebook, those who are the most successful tend to go to the bar or a club the second the weekend starts on Friday, and remain blissfully intoxicated until the weekend concludes. They take vacations to beaches or ski resorts where they waste hundreds of dollars on drinking in bars where they socialize; they wear bikinis and go to Las Vegas where they play Blackjack and lose or win, it doesn’t matter, and they have their friends over and pour cocktails and sangria or pass around a joint or eat mushrooms or snort cocaine or roll on ecstasy and despite illegalities these are all elements of life I’ve see that people my age do in order to lead a normal life. They go on dates, to concerts, and above all they are living their lives in a way that aligns with what all of society tells us that 20 and 30-somethings are supposed to be doing prior to marriage and officially settling down.

Is that what I really want? I’ve spent too many days traveling for work to conferences with some of the most impressive people in the world, out at parties, at the bars, and I feel terribly awkward in this situations, I wander around, alone, look in my purse to pass the time, check my phone, and I am alone, a voyeur of normality, yet it all seems so terribly odd to me; I am a ghost of an onlooker, and even thrown into the center of what I think I want I find it isn’t at all what I want.

Still, I watch my stocks, I invest, I hope to turn my $150k networth into something much much more so I can not worry so much. Or so I can buy a life. How much money do you need to buy a life? How much money do you need to buy friends? To buy experiences? To buy laughter and to buy feeling not so alone in real life, not on some social networking account where it’s easy to collect friends and fans and followers?

I think I am a capitalist. I live to want. I hate that about myself. My boyfriend is a hippie socialist who thinks desire is the root of all evil. I agree with him. He is sweet and I love him and I love everything we have together. I couldn’t bare to be with another capitalist, I’d hate them, I need a bleeding heart liberal to remind me of my values. I dated a man once who refused to give, now I date a man who would give everything if he could.

But this isn’t about who I’m dating exactly. It’s about finding a life for myself independent of my relationship. And finding time for it. And figuring out what that life is. Social lives, however depressing, are rather easy to define a purpose for when you’re single. Your life revolves around finding a partner. And when you do — then what? What does all the money in the world provide when you have someone and have no one to share it all with in occasional gluttonous excess?

Or do I really deep down still want someone to provide the financial stability, the social stability, someone who can help define my life instead of my being thrown a lump of wet clay to mold without another strong hand to reach in, grasping over mine, to guide our creation with a purpose, to mold life together, with passionate kisses, with trips around the world, sharing a bottle of red wine, a dance, a surprise, a cruise, something messy, sticky, imperfect, uncontrolled; I long for someone to make a life of art with me; or to find my own art, and find out how to make it, and to not feel so alone on this global canvas with each solitary yet substantial brushstroke.

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Looking Back and Looking Forward

This week I attended my high school’s 10 year reunion. After it being cancelled (not enough people wanted to pay $90 a pop for an open bar), a bunch of my classmates decided to meet up at a local bar on the same night. The evening was as awkward as reunions must always be  – seeing people you haven’t seen in 10 years (except on Facebook), people who hated you or ignored you in high school, now attempting to act like grown ups and be nice to each other.

It was, as reunions are, a place where plenty of people were connecting with lost connections, and old friends. What was most fascinating to me was where everyone was in their lives, 10 years in from high school graduation. Of course the people who showed up at this reunion (maybe 6% of our whole high school class) weren’t the ones who were stalled in their lives. But everyone was on a path, some more clear than others, and it was interesting to see how people’s lives were shaping out.

It also made me quite introspective about my own life and my choices. I’ve done so much, professionally, since graduating college, that I haven’t really had time to stop and think about how to make a living doing what I really love — helping people and understanding people. The INFP in me does my best work when my ethics and beliefs align squarely with that which I produce. I like harmony, not discordance. And life isn’t like school where there are right or wrong choices, you just make choices, day in and day out, with some making sense and others leading you off the deep end, where you may or may not be able to swim yourself out of it.

In any case, this has led me back to thinking I really would like to go to graduate school, and have the time to pursue something that lights up the right spots in my brain. This something will be psychology, sociology, or human computer interaction. And will be sometime in the next five years. I realize that despite an MBA being the right choice for my career, it’s not the right choice for me.

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The Obligatory What I’m Thankful For / Birthday Post

Tomorrow, I’ll be turning 28! That’s a big number. It’s one of those numbers that is only scary in how it’s only two years away from 30. I’ve always felt ones 20s were still a time for trial and error, but come my 30s, I need to get serious. About everything.

I think I’m way ahead of where I thought I’d be in terms of my career, but otherwise I’m still a bit behind. I didn’t end up going to graduate school (though I still dream of getting an MBA and/or a painting MFA one day), I’m sans an engagement ring, have no bun in the oven, no mortgage, or any long-term commitments and responsibilities. Quite frankly, outside of living a fairly hum-drum life in the burbs versus spending my 20s in the big bad city, I think I’ve done my “pre-30″ 20′s justice. And I have two more years left to close out the final chapters of my self-defined youth and move on to actual adulthood.

That said, it so happens my birthday falls on Thanksgiving, and at this time of year, every year, I think about what I’m thankful for, and there happens to be a mighty long list to review.

I’m so fortunate to have all the opportunities that are on my plate right now, even though sometimes I get frustrated with my own abilities and insecurities. I’m thankful for my family, for my friends, for my wonderful boyfriend, and for things always managing to work out as long as you push through the hard times and just don’t give up.

Most of all, I’m thankful for coming to terms with and accepting that happiness is not made of, or from money, and that I may just be happier in the long term without it. I’m thankful for being able to see the world in a different way than my parents, and that one day I may be able to pass on these insights to my own children. I’m grateful for being able to travel for work to see my family anyway, because I love them and all their nuttiness, because who they are made me who I am, for better or worse, and there are some days when I even like being me.

And I’m thankful to you… my blog readers… who come back and read of my ups and downs of life, and leave me thoughtful comments, or don’t and just choose to read and be anonymous, and for knowing that my honesty might be helping someone else out there know s/he isn’t alone, that there are always down days and up days, but we’re all in this big pointless yet spectacular life together. So thank you for reading.

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Lot of Hate “Mail” / Comments re: My DUI Posts

Wow, I’ve received a lot of hate mail (comments) regarding the blog posts on the consequences of getting a DUI. It seems my post got picked up by The Consumerist, which sent a slew of angry people over to my blog to yell at me. Welcome new readers. :)

I wanted to respond, even though it’s clear that people who are angry about anything will never budge in their opinion of you. First things first, I will never, ever have a drink and think about getting near a car again. There was a comment about how I sound like I’m not sorry I drove drunk, I’m sorry I got caught. Here’s the truth — I’m glad I got caught. I’m not glad that I have to deal with everything that goes along with this experience, but clearly what I did was wrong — whether I was caught or not — driving with a .12% BAC. I am embarrassed by this. I did not eat all day, the bartender kept refilling my glass, and the situation somehow got out of control. This doesn’t excuse what happened, I’m just framing the situation — I drink once or twice a year. I am the same person who often grabs keys from friends when they get in cars to drive anywhere after having a few drinks at the bar. I’m the one who is constantly judging coworkers for getting behind the wheel after having a few beers at happy hour, when I just drink water.

This doesn’t excuse that I was stupid, and that I got into a car when I was intoxicated. The real point of the story I want to make is that you stay “drunk” for a long long time after you’ve stopped drinking. I waited three hours after my last beverage, and I wasn’t taking shots either. I had three glasses of wine over the course of the evening, and then I waited three hours. And I thought I was ok to drive. The truth is I did not get pulled over for driving poorly. I pulled over by choice, after I drove a half block, because I realized the three hours wasn’t enough, and a cop walked up to my car because I was seen by another citizen walking to my car and wobbling in my heels. This is not an excuse. This is just what happened. I shouldn’t have even gotten in the car. But, reality is, when you’re more intoxicated than you think you are, your judgement isn’t rational. Continue reading

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