Grieving the loss of a dear friend


Over the Christmas period I have been grieving the loss of a dear friend who left my side when I fell ill.  This precious companion had been part of my life through thick and thin for almost 40 years. My dear friend, how can I celebrate when you were always the one leading the fun times?  What can I do when it was you who supported me in dark times, when little else eased my pain?  Now that we are parted, I can only look on as others share your warmth, laughing happily as you wash away their cares.  And yes, I am jealous, quite frankly I am.  Because I miss you, alcohol, I really do.  

 I never realised how important drinking was to me, sure I exceeded health guidelines on many an occasion, but it was only ever a social adjunct, never a crutch.  And yet, when you are the only one sober, you become very aware of how important alcohol is as a British social conduit, and how much of an outsider you are if you are not able to partake.   

 Becoming a non-drinker is tough; there's no prestige to it like giving up smoking; no one congratulates you, instead they commiserate.  'Oh, how awful, I really don't think I'd survive without Prosecco!'  Yeah, right.  Of course they don't mean it, it's just the drink talking.  Meanwhile, you become the elephant in the room, how do you include someone who can't join in?   

 It takes guts to start going to parties as a non-drinker, knowing that as the evening progresses you will find yourself becoming out of sync with the party spirit. You stay hyper-vigilant, checking you are still 'on track', that your conversation is not becoming too serious for the vibe.  Alcohol relaxes, but sobriety stresses.

 With time your habits change, but your old friends do not.  I have thought of trying to find a new circle of friends who do not drink; but would I be accepted in an AA group with such a different history?  I really liked the group of Muslim mothers who helped out at school, but would I culturally be too different?  Besides, I don't want to let a chronic illness reject my friends so I must learn  to adapt.  I shouldn't resign myself to the discomfort of a square peg in a round hole.  The hole may be round, but I must smooth my edges with a positive outlook and be the best I can be. I do have to be sober, but I can escape square. 



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