The wine witch, but for beer drinkers

I was drinking a lot. Not the cliche alcoholic kind of waking up with a bottle in my hand under a park bench kind of rock bottom alcoholism, but the pandemic-drinking-isn't-cute-anymore kind. How bad is bad enough, I made this blog anonymously, so I might as well be honest about it. I also want to be able to remember later, when I've figured out what works for me, how big my progress has been, but - I think I'll write a separate post about that. 

I recently read The Sober Diaries, by Clare Pooley, as part of my er, sober curiousity. Basically around the end of May, I decided I needed to make a change, and that I would start it out with break from alcohol. It was harder than I expected, especially the first week. Reading this indulgently honest kind of content was my replacement treat when I felt like drinking. I could keep going in this genre, by finding blogs or by starting the next book on my list Mrs. D Goes Without, but then I thought about what was missing from the books and blogs I could see, and I still haven't found my story.

So much of the content that I find valuable, entertaining and almost-relatable is this whole genre of "mommy-juice" soaked boozy housewife. That story clicks with me because I am often home alone, handling the running of a household and a career, with a partner who doesn't consume much alcohol. But it is noticeable that I'm different from this crowd in a few meaningful ways. The most obvious but somehow the easiest to ignore, is that I'm not a mother. I'm 32, engaged, and motherhood is on the horizon, so this wine-mom life feels like a warning from my future self - this is what your life could look like if you don't question your drinking now. Another big thing I don't see represented in these stories, are athletes. I may not be a pro-athlete, but I run fast, bike far and lift heavy things. In my search for a healthier lifestyle I'm not starting at zero. Then of course the silliest, but most grating difference is that wine is almost unilaterally their drink of choice. I'll drink wine sometimes, my parents drink a lot of wine, and like any thirsty drinker, I'm happy to indulge when it feels on-theme or is the only option. But my drink of choice is definitely beer. I love ambers, browns, IPAs, porters and pale ales. I love a freshly poured pint at the end of the afternoon in outdoor beer garden, paired with a good friend.

One of the concepts I loved, that folks in this genre talk about, is the idea of the wine witch. The wine witch is the one saying, "you've been so good, you can definitely have just one glass to relax - today was exceptionally difficult and you deserve it" The idea of giving my cravings a persona, was a fun and helpful way to think about the self-talk that happens when you are teetering between aiming for sobriety and this mythical moderation. This wine witch concept doesn't quite fit me though, because wine isn't my game - I'm a beer drinker, or a whiskey drinker. The idea for the name of this blog comes from the fact that I want to find the right name for my ignoble inner beer drinker, because wine witch doesn't quite fit. I'm in the middle of fighting an unending battle with houseflies that seem to buzz around my house and garden. The word buzz is usually associated positively with the effects of alcohol, but right now it reminds me of pesky and opportunistic houseflies. House flies aren't quite substantial enough to personify, but what about a buzzard - a vulture? Perhaps my wine witch is actually a beer buzzard.