Pressmetilihurt

I took my son to get his haircut today guess what I'm at the barbershop so cold beer and whiskey.

Afterwards I took them to get a burger and of course everyone's drinking beer. Full disclosure, the place is a brewery.

I can't drink. I'm an alcoholic. I need to stay away from places with that. I can't handle it. For the record I didn't drink. And I'm so f****** grateful.

Dee74

I've ever heard of a licensed barber - weird.

I'm glad you got through Press- you have very two pressing reasons to keep it up - you and your boy

Tailai

Mummyto2

Ayers

Dee, neither have I .

Guener

There are all sorts of places that are licensed to sell alcohol, depending upon where you live in particular. And then there is advertising telling us how good it would be. It's almost impossible to escape the offerings in our world.

I do agree that in early sobriety it is a good thing to limit one's exposure to situations where it's literally in your face with consumption. Often I just skipped going out to restaurants that serve alcohol when I was feeling like I didn't need to be around it. I didn't want to invite either temptation or resentment. I still am careful about it depending upon how I feel, such as recently after a parent died, if it is a place that I associate to my own past drinking. It's hard to avoid it all the time, and you do get to a point where you don't have the occasion to think about it at all.

It helps me to be doing things daily that reinforce my action toward recovery to not feel vulnerable.

DriGuy

They sell it at my movie theater. Just started this year. It seems weird to see that at the snack counter, which used to advertise goodies for kids with singing popcorn boxes and talking soft drinks. I don't know how much beer or wine is at a movie theater. The usual mark up at the concession stand should put it at $100/bottle.

MLD51

I understand that vulnerability is uncomfortable early on. I didn't like it, either. Everything seemed amplified to me in the early days - I was so much more easily offended and upset by things that I never really noticed before, like the prevalence of alcohol in public places. I was actually kind of angry about it for a while. I couldn't go anywhere, it seemed, without alcohol being present. That's why I spent a lot of time in the woods, or in my safe zone of my own home. After a time, I settled down about it and now I barely notice the booze, even when I'm sitting at dinner with friends and family who are drinking.

Vulnerability can be a very good thing, too, once you learn how to "regulate" it. A big part of lasting recovery for me has been learning to share my true thoughts and feelings with others - putting myself out there. I never wanted to do that when I was younger, because I was so afraid people would not like the real me. In sobriety, I have learned that authentic connection to others is one of the keys to having a fulfilling life.

DriGuy

It's been so long now that I'm not quite sure, but I don't recall being angry at alcohol as much as being frightened by it. I did notice what I would call a hypersensitivity to my emotional states, but it was not overwhelming. I don't think those emotional states felt any stronger than when I was drinking, but I was more aware of them, and as a direct result, I started recognizing the harm they were causing, and even learned to let them go. The emotions weren't bigger or more, but my ability to recognize and manage them was where the big change happened.

I didn't mind vulnerability to alcohol so much. That seemed to be part of the "recognizing that I was powerless' part of Step 1, something I had figured out long before I ever heard of Step 1. But I did embrace the vulnerability and made it an important part of the vigilance I needed to reach my goal of sustained sobriety. I suspect this was helpful, but I'm not sure. It did seem to come into play on one occasion after I started feeling normal and someone asked if I would like some wine with dinner, and I actually thought for a millisecond that I could drink. This may have been the vulnerability that alerted me, or may just have been because I accepted what others told me about always being vulnerable.

Like you, the emotional affect of vulnerability is long gone, but the acceptance that I will always be vulnerable remains, if only at a cognitive intellectual level. My first few years of sobriety were emotionally happy times. I was caught up in the freedom and self pride of the whole thing. Now looking back on it, I can say I still feel gratitude as I write this, but the excitement doesn't have that glorious manic quality about it. I'm more aware of the wondrous quality of the journey and the unexpected benefits that seem to have come almost out of nowhere. I don't think that gratitude will ever leave.