Alcohol, painkillers, and elevator pitches

Curiosities after a few days

Photo by David Clode on Unsplash

“Before it is the butterfly, the caterpillar must be goop.”

I’m feeling very goopy these days. Goopy in the growing pains of changing things…

Most things here in New York have begun to feel like holdover creations from a previous me—a me who had different priorities, visions, and aspirations. It’s a me that is no longer, and the universe, in her beautiful way, is showing me that we must have a liquidation sale.

I am moving to Phoenix before I turn 40, which, as we stand, is 48 weeks from now. I’m hoping to do it sooner, and the only thing I need is about $30,000… Which I could reasonably create in a short amount of time.

I’ve started to tend bar again on the weekends to help with this creation.

As I am a keen observer of the human condition (I even got an advanced degree in it,) I enjoy posing questions to myself about human behavior to help pass the hours. I’d like to note my curiosities, and you can pick and choose what you take from them:

Curiosity #1— Why do we not question the way we act about alcohol?

For many years, I never questioned my behavior either; there was no reason to. It was only when my relationship with alcohol began to affect my relationship with running that I brought it to the table for review.

People (and that includes a past me) have a wild, warped way of seeing alcohol.

Take for example, a gentleman this past weekend who ordered a Nikka Coffey whiskey, neat, with a little bit of club soda.

I took two ounces of Nikka Coffey whiskey, put it in a glass (not over ice) and put some club soda on top of it.

He gave me the “that’s wrong” face.

I learned later that he wanted a Nikka Coffey whiskey with a “club soda back.”

After 20 years of doing this shit, I have no desire to make a person drink something “wrong” and sit through the subsequent grimacing that goes on for the duration of the drink. I’d rather just correct it by giving them what they meant to order.

I tossed the drink in the sink and asked him how he wanted it prepared instead.

You would have sworn I killed his puppy, throwing away that two ounces of whiskey. It was like I had committed a cardinal sin. People often say “NOOOO THAT IS ALCOHOL ABUSE!” (An overused pun.)

This whiskey is not a fossil fuel. No one is going to be dead by it going down a drain.

In my time working in the restaurant and bar business, I have thrown away full orders of food people “didn’t like.” Nobody bats an eye when this happens. A burger cooked wrong? Into the trash without a thought or reaction.

Two ounces of whiskey? Might as well have mutilated his child.

What is that about?

Or, take for example another gentleman… Came in, said to me:

“Can I have two shots of vodka? Titos is fine. They don’t even have to be chilled.”

“You can,” I said, “But… is everything OK?”

He slightly chuckled. Paid. Drank them. Asked for a third. Paid. Drank that, and then left. In and out in about four minutes.

I told the story to a bunch of people, and few understood why I asked, “Is everything OK?”

WHY WOULD YOU NOT ASK THAT?

Who the hell drinks three shots of unchilled vodka in four minutes? Are you going to divorce court? Are you about to sell your body? What is going on!? WHAT DO YOU NEED!?

**No disrespect to sex workers. I simply imagine that’s an experience one might not want to be “present” for. However, I have not done this work, so this could be complete speculation on my end.

I’ve been wondering lately about why people so freely invest in their illness but not in their wellness.

Someone I know recently told me (when I disclosed that I am moving to Arizona) that they want to go to “one of those wellness retreats out there, but they are so expensive.”

So expensive, but how much blow are you doing every weekend? (I know it’s a lot.) I’m seasoned enough to recognize when a person is coked out of their mind. One or two weeks without your favorite painkiller, you could have a fine experience at “one of those wellness retreats.”

I have watched people come in with people who have spent $300 or $400 just to forget their own names.

I’m qualified to speak on this because I lived like this. For years, this was my life. I had an abundant budget to numb my brain so much that I could trick myself into thinking I was heavily participating in life rather than just biding my time waiting to die.

Once, when I was working behind the bar, a guy said to me “I’m in sales.”

“I’m so sorry,” I replied.

“You’re in sales too,” he said.

“Yes,” I said. “But there’s a difference. I don’t have to work hard to sell this. People are going to buy it anyway.”

“That’s not necessarily true,” he said.

“Yes it is.”

Painkillers sell themselves.

Think about it. When was the last time you saw an ad for Tylenol?

This leads naturally into:

Curiosity #2—What if that painkiller is actually causing more pain? (It is.)

I don’t need an ad to buy Ibuprofen. I get a period every month, and there’s one pill that makes that churning more bearable. Nobody needs to work that hard to sell it to me. I’m sold.

I used to take ibuprofen when I’d have running aches and pains. Then I realized that inflammation is a necessary bodily response to facilitate healing. Imagine that- the inflammation is supposed to be there. It has a necessary purpose.

(I’m talking about acute inflammation that occurs with injury— not chronic inflammation, like that which occurs with Celiac disease.)

Learning about the body is fantastic because it is a microcosm for all systems.

I learned that painkillers for the body do not facilitate healing (in fact, often they delay it, as in the case of Ibuprofen for acute inflammation.) Too, some of the “societal painkillers” we use create more personal pain. Alcohol is one of those glorified panaceas, and we’ve built a culture around it to perpetuate the lie that it is adding value to our lives.

It’s a painkiller, but what it takes from any human is far greater. It often creates far more problems than it solves.

As I soon will hit five years of sobriety, I’m seeing just how much brain function, cognition, and problem-solving ability I had lost while in my years of “killing pain.” It’s quite overwhelming at times to have it back.

People say that things like cigarettes and alcohol make us calm… Actually, they create a constant, subtle presence of anxiety because, chemically, they foster a state where your body is always in a bit of subtle withdrawal.

Having a glass of wine at night to “wind down?” People who don’t drink can naturally “wind down” without it. If you want more science to this, I have a list of books for you to read. Just reply to this.

What we think of as painkillers are often pain creators, and when we invest in our illness, the universe makes sure to compensate us for our time. There’s a line that says, “Where the energy goes, the energy flows.” When you flow energy toward your illness (and money is only energy,) illness is what you’ll receive.

Curiosity #3 — What’s up with the elevator pitches and highlight reels?

I’m in a place of reconstruction. I alluded to it at the beginning of this piece, but it’s deeper in intensity than just a few subtle shifts. In relation to my life, I feel like someone has died, and I have moved into their house.

What is this website here? Why is it active?

What about this thing over here? Why did I make that?

What about these humans? Why do I know them? Why am I still having dinner with that person who can only talk about people we knew back in 2016?

Why do I live in New York fucking City, far from God’s essence that is the Arizona sky, the trails, even the roads... Why do I still reside in the concrete disgust that is this heap of shit-covered bedrock?

Places where I used to feel deeply are now spaces of mundanity for me, and while I seek inspiration, I’m not sure there’s much that can accelerate the process of becoming inspired when I wake up in a geographical location I do not want to be in.

I met some strangers the other night, and that was quite nice. Although I found myself confused and a little unnerved in the beginning. I noticed when asked to talk about myself that I lacked a consolidated elevator pitch about what I “do.”

I don’t… love that. I’m not interested in delivering such a pitch. I’d much rather hear about what others are up to. What I “do” reveals itself on its own… And I’m not sure I even want to be doing it, at least not in the form or format that I have been for the last four years.

I thought about how inefficient it is to present ourselves publicly as a prolonged highlight reel because people end up comparing their insides to our “outsides.” Every human experiences melancholy, confusion, and chaos. Many face periods of utter despair, but generally, we don’t hear about those until after they’re over.

When I led my women’s coaching experience, Day 1, we used to say “nice to meet you” as a daily gesture, implying that there was no obligation to be today who you were yesterday.

Maybe today, you’re a powerhouse. Maybe you want to be dead. Why are we lying about this shit?

I celebrate the person who publicly gets divorced, talks about a diagnosis, or expresses frustration with the harshness of getting ghosted on their job search.

Most people live a life very opposite of a highlight reel. Make no mistake- I’ve coached and worked behind a bar. Highly successful people are just as afraid and unsure as you are.

An aside to these three curiosities:

What was really beautiful today, was late morning, talking to a dear friend of mine. I told him I’d been experiencing some anhedonia lately- a lack of joy, pleasure, and often, interest in just about anything. (I do not exist in a perpetual highlight reel.)

What was wonderful… was he told me he loved me, and that he had been there.

No judgment. No asking “why” or searching for me to produce a “because.” Just an affirmation that he, too, is a human.

I needed that in a very big way.

Sometimes, the most powerful thing you can do for a human is see them.

Stay curious…

Get honest.

And stay beautiful ❤️