Goodbye Letter to Alcohol

Dear beer.

I've thought about you a lot recently, reflecting upon my experience with you, our times together, how I see you in mine and others' lives and where we should go from here.

You have been an almost perfect companion at times; you've taken me to far out places and worn-out spaces and generally been at my side most of my life.

I have used you and abused you, but you've always been forgiving and offered me no conditions of worth. On occasion you've given me clarity, but this pales into insignificance to the times you have left me confused and I wonder sometimes who's using who.

So if I was to give you a gender, what would you be? What are you alcohol, what is my relationship to you and your relationship to me?

To tell the truth, in my youth you were a male, a brother, perhaps my brother or maybe my dad. We had crazy times, and we went through good times and bad. You've also been my mother, my lover and taken my pain away, taken away my worries, calmed me down and helped me see the light of day.

I look at you and taste your pleasure and can't specifically give you a gender; perhaps these days you're female in polite company and male on a bender. Perhaps you are mixed, uniquely androgynous and in this bottle perfectly slender. Your body oozes sexuality and you have sexuality projected onto you, not only by me, but by most of the world that drinks you to feel free.

You are projected as the trinity, the father son and Holy Ghost. You are the Holy Grail, the poison chalice, the sacred cup, the giver and taker of life depending on how much we sup.

My god, there are so many archetypes to describe you: you're the hero, the heroin, the saviour, the seductive priestess, the king, the warrior.

You're the caregiver, companion and healer. You're the networker, the innovator, the inspiration of poets and musicians, the fuel of rebels and revolutionaries. You're everyone's favourite sidekick when they're out on the town. You're the liberator, celebrator, agent provocateur and trickster.

But you are also the downfall of addicts and companion of despair, the motivator of sadists, of thieves and tyrants. You're the courage of cowards, the strength of bullies. You are the redeemer and the vampire, the Samaritan and the saboteur.

After all, you have been with us for millenniums, embodied and entrenched within our culture, our minds and hearts. But notwithstanding this romantic portrayal, you do turn people yellow and make them frail. I know you and I know you well. I've seen you take people to heaven and enable them to live in hell.

At the end of the day, you are you and what we do with you is what we become.

To me you have been sublime, a welcomed companion who gave me freedom in many ways and got me to like being me. I quite liked that you inhibited my censoring self and gave me space to laugh and joke.

Although, as I get older, I often regret our prolonged acquaintance as you are often one of the last guests to leave and my tolerance is low. Therefore, now we must respect each other's boundaries. As much as I warmed to you and welcomed you into my life, we did become antisocial, histrionic, totally mad and chronic. We became quite narcissistic, dualistic, fatalistic, and hedonistic and at times you were so seductive and destructive, manic and neurotic, compulsive and erotic.

You're akin to a powerful, seductive chaotic lover I no longer have the impulsive urge to see or emptiness to need.

I will live with you, and you are welcome in my home, but I am not something that you will ever own. I'm sure I carry a few scars from our encounters, but friendships are built on experiences, connections, memories and fun and with you, alcohol, we certainly have had some.

You know I love you but I'm not in love with you. I've studied you, read about you and seen all your films. I know that with too much exposure there is no closure apart from the neurological modifications that occur that make people do things beyond their control. You make people paranoid and cause them to quarrel, reinforcing beliefs until they can't get relief, whispering "my precious" in rapture and pain.

So, alcohol, let's just be good friends and see how our path works out. I have respect for you, and I hope we have a lifelong friendship, but I also have a healthy sense of doubt.

I've decided to live now with clarity and presence in myself. I've decided I want optimum health. So maybe on a birthday or at Christmas I might call on you.

However, if I don't, please be happy to know I'm off sailing off into happiness, and perhaps a little bit sorry it will be without you. But hey ho, that’s what sacrifice is all about.

Reflection:

These words reflect the complex relationships people have to things that cause risks and harms, that they might be dependent or addicted to. As someone who has worked in the field for many years, has lived experience and has taught the subject, I think this is an honest reflection. It's not a typical, clean 'recovery story' that demonises what was once so loved. It's honest and complex, which is what a lot of people experience and a lot of clients bring to therapy, even under initial statements of 'I want to quit, I have quit etc.'

In sessions, I often notice the disconnect, clients saying they want to stop while their body language and para language suggests deep ambivalence or speaking about substances with an almost nostalgic tenderness they're trying to suppress.

Of course, this doesn't reflect the whole population. Many are 'done' with their addictions and have reached a place of genuine pain and contempt. I totally respect this and work with those who present this way. However, there are an equal number who carry this ambivalent relationship in the subconscious realms of their mind. Moreover, many want to adopt a 'harm minimisation' strategy and do gain control over substances. I must add that even this paragraph is not exactly clear, there are many people who have decided to quit, have quit but still hold onto the attachments and relationships they once had, the good times, the medicine, the freedom, the courage of what they imbibed or did.

Yet most support groups and residential rehabs are designed on the premise of abstinence, often inadvertently shaming the complexity of these attachments. "That's the addiction talking,' is common answer to when people try and share the complexity or cravings. Its a useful simplified statement that can be used as cognitive economy but if we allow the fuller picture to form there is real complexity or ambivalence there.

In the letter we see the ambivalence: "I love you but I'm not in love with you, you are welcome in my home, but I am not something you will ever own, maybe on a birthday or at Christmas I might call on you." Perhaps this is wishful thinking, pre contemplative thinking, a fear of letting go, but it is where the person is at.

I share the approach that must be acknowledged, respected and held therapeutically. It's not up to the therapist to pressure the client into abstinence if it's not their wish. Part of therapeutic holding means creating space for clients to explore this ambivalence without judgment, without rushing them toward any particular outcome.

Perhaps they might be pre-contemplative to other issues and in time these can surface with guidance or self realisation. Their is nothing more powerful to making an informed, empowered decision based on one's own agency.

The person writing this may also have been at a particular place in the arc of addiction and have not created or witnessed serious harms or become compulsive. The unit intake may not have been that the body has normalised this and they need the same units every day to feel 'normal,' or to at least stop the pain.

However, many people in society stay in control, they may rise to impulsive and 'binge,' but are arguably in control. Of course there are harms, and addiction 'can be' pervasive. But, addiction is an inbuilt mechanism to the human condition. We form habits based on rewards and reinforcement processes in our brain, these can lead to attachments and addictions. We only need to casually glance at phone use nowadays to see this.

We see that the author of the letter has or had genuine positive experiences with alcohol, 'freedom, confidence, connection, a welcomed companion and perfect sidekick.' They expresses genuine sorrow: "sorry it will be without you." Within all this there is real loss and bereavement. The phases of grief will be present, and due care must be given to honour this.

The trauma underneath is crucial. Many addictions involve underlying trauma that created the original need for self-medication. So, too to the neurodiverse populations who have not received diagnosis and support. The substance or behaviour became a coping mechanism in an overwhelming world. Addressing only the addiction without understanding what it was managing often leads to relapse or symptom substitution. The question becomes, what was this relationship protecting you from feeling?

Even with people in years of 'recovery,' internal conversations and negotiations remain present. There's a term used, 'one day at a time,' acknowledging the ongoing relationship with choice and vulnerability. This saying can be absolutely crucial to a persons recovery, state of mind and safety and I by no means want to demonise this or any abstinent based approach.

What I hope this piece outlines of offers, is that beyond the surface, the substance or behaviour, there are real attachment issues, real relationships. The dependency isn't an 'evil' or shameful thing to have. It's how people cope in a very f***ed up world, and especially if they have upbringings and experiences that are traumatic.

I could ramble on for a long time, but I hope at the least I have given a glimpse or reinforced something's thinking that may sit just outside the norm.

I wish all those in 'recovery' the greatest of respect and offer that perhaps another way of framing this is that you are in 'discovery,' finding yourself, finding ways to love you and your significant others. I wish all the therapists and workers who diligently work beyond obligation the best in life, love and luck.