I’m 17 again in the summer of 2017.
When I was 17 I never had touched alcohol. I still hadn’t touched it, until I reached the age of 20. Then all hell broke loose. My genes held true and tried with the strong blood line of addiction and the ability to withstand high amounts of assorted liquors. Name it, I could stomach it, ride it, drive it and hold it while looking normal, depending on the night, with the best of the cowboys, CEO’s, along with those Harley Davidson riders too.
I was born with it in me. A wild streak feeling, a need for that euphoric high that carries me into a night to the unknown. Not living promiscuous or affecting the innocent, I only consistently hurt myself. I had a large variety of the most rebellious hoping to saddle up with me. Yet I was always drawn to and admired my mothers spirit in the ones I would cross paths with. It’s one of the things I look for in my closest most highly respected friends, and it was one of the reasons I fell in love with my husband. The type who don’t need to drink or drug themselves to have fun, or carry on that interesting conversation. The persona that finds innovative things to do with their day that doesn’t involve a vice at their side. The rare group who wake up sober while falling asleep just as alert as they were in the morning. I am drawn to them. I need them. I value those attributed beings.
If you don’t have one, I highly suggest it.
They will make a mark in your life. You will want to do better with yourself by the company you keep, or if you walk around sick for over ten years, that will work just as effectively.
As I read diligently to the markers regarding a large black hole exactly where my prefrontal lobe / hypothalamus (short term memory) is controlled, and seven inactive lesions in ones brain, I desired to obtain a higher grade to health. I learned alcohol was the sure fire way to lead myself in to Alzheimers or dementia earlier than most in life. While I mindfully was in tune to how my mom worked hard not allowing alcohol in our home, daily talks to the detriment of addictions, how our blood line could kick in at any age and leave us a slave to the bottle. As she was living without any crutch herself, she fought the hardest for us six kids to learn it, know it and live without experiencing it, as she had witnessed from a small child.
After I recovered from my long mysterious illness and convuluted misdiagnoses, I finally changed. Without methodically planning it that part naturally grew in me. What my mom always wanted arrived, living completely clean without that monkey on my shoulder. I have reached a plateau which I once carried as the excuse for a daily healthy heart wine, ‘an occasional drink’, a morning Bloody Mary, to becoming obstinate for the complete absence of a cocktail, cigarette, or anything else that contains toxicity from my past.
As my husband witnessed my healthy aspirations it encouraged him to join me in this clean productive mode. We have made plans to buy golfing clubs and join friends on the course, shopping for a fishing boat, while he finds himself needing to go for a daily run for his joints. Our cardio will pick up while our cardiovascular health will show us it’s gratitude.
I have lived an entire person’s lifetime with every era in my life thus far. Since I made it alive this far I’m ready for the purest, most uncontaminated, skillfully, sharpest path of them all.
So, if anyone has ever told you ‘they are too old to change’ .. don’t believe it. Keep the faith. You too can live the life that always tugged at your mileage and pulled at your heartstrings.
~I revise obsessively. It’s important to me to have a clean page.~
UPDATE: Recent studies reveal moderate (1-2) drinks per day prevent dementia. Go figure, but 3-4 is is considered heavy drinking.