Alcohol & Summer- The Idealistic Snapshot in Time
I think summer is a particular type of torture as a sober person. The sunshine, the heat, the long nights, they all form a part of some idealistic snapshot in time. The ideal moment to drink legitimately. To be able to head out into the heat and sink a few pints whatever the time of day. It somehow becomes widely acceptable and social.
It comes at me from every angle, the happy, laughing faces of people sitting outside enjoying a variety of glowing ethereal liquids. Sometimes I can almost taste it. Which is strange because I never enjoyed the taste of alcohol. It was just a means to an end for me. I never did it for the subtle floral notes or the bold full-bodied punch of dark fruit. I did it to get away from me. I never really cared what I was drinking as long as it contained enough alcohol to get me from A to oblivion.
Even when I was actively drinking, I very rarely sat outside with others socialising over a pint. I’m autistic- it’s too hot, there are wasps, the sunlight burns my retina’s, and people are too loud. But on these sunny afternoons now, all I want to do is sweat in the heat, take my chances with the wasps and let my retina’s scorch. The mind is certainly a trickster.
But there is a certain loss that I have noticed over the past year or so of my recovery. The spontaneity of my partner has vanished. There is a void that opens up in a relationship when one of you gets sober. My partner’s moments of randomly texting me saying “f**k I’ve really missed you, it has been the worst of weeks, and I need to get out of this house for a bit- let’s just go out and have a few drinks”, has disappeared. We no longer head out last minute to see some band we have never heard of play in a tiny room, with a sticky floor and a crowded bar.
As much as I say “I am completely fine with you having a drink, if I start to feel like I’m not, I’ll tell you”, I guess drinking with a sober person is not appealing.
So, the times we spend apart are longer. There is some loss of connection but I cannot work out why. I mean I was an unpredictable drunk at best and a real ar**hole at worst. Our times drinking could be ok, but it was always on a knife edge because of me. My partner certainly wanted me to find recovery. But maybe similarly to me, they now find it doesn’t quite live up to the idea they had in their head.
Average Autistic In Recovery 