What I’ve Learned In My 40’s(so far): 1. Being A Slave to a Demon, and Also Slaying That Demon

 

I turned 40 on November 2, 2017. There is an old saying that ‘life begins at 40.’ I used to think that was just something middle-aged people said to make them feel younger. Maybe that is a part of it. I do believe that the wisdom behind that saying is that you spend those first 39 years accumulating all kinds of knowledge that you then can start to put into practice when you hit the Big 4-0.

For me, as I stare down 47, I can honestly say that my 40s so far have been the most difficult and also rewarding decade of my life. I never thought I’d find a time where I’d feel more unsure, insecure, lost, and yet filled with optimism. My teens used to be the benchmark until my 40s.

I’ve learned a lot in my life. Some of it has been useful as I’ve aged. A lot has been pointless. No amount of studying prepares you for coming to grips with your own aging, your own mortality, or your own demons. No amount of preparation can soften the blow of loss and grief. My 40s have been a trial by fire. They have seen me dropped in hostile environments mentally with no survival gear and having to learn on the fly.

So what have I learned in my 40s so far? A lot.

1. I’ve learned what it’s like to be a slave to a demon, and also what it’s like to slay that demon.

Alcoholism has been a part of my life since I started making memories. Until I hit 40 however it was always a cautionary tale dealing with others. My father was an alcoholic from as far back as I remember. I can’t remember a time when he didn’t have an open can of beer and a cigarette sitting in an ashtray. The smell of smoke and the sound of him belching loudly was as much a part of my Sundays at my Nana’s as Wiffle ball games and hot dogs and beans.

As I grew older and my connection to my father faded further away I made a decision to not become an alcoholic to spite him. My greatest fear in my adult life was hearing someone tell me I was just like my father. I couldn’t help if I looked like him or sounded like him but I could make sure I didn’t wind up a drunk like him. It wasn’t that easy.

I enjoyed having a few drinks once in a while in my 20s and 30s. Every so often I’d overdo it and wind up with a hangover but those events were the exception, not the rule. I feared the alcoholism gene being switched on when I was in my 20s. I can still remember being 21 and sitting in the living room at our house on Broadway in West Yarmouth. I had a 6-pack of some sort of winter-flavored beer and was knocking them back when my mother gave me a stern warning.

She mentioned the gene. She also mentioned that she had gone through dealing with an alcoholic with my father at roughly the same age I was then. My mother said she would not go through that with me. That triggered the fear. The fear of becoming my father’s son was more powerful than the beer, at least at that point.

I kept it in check until I hit 40. It was the death of one of my oldest friends Matt a few weeks before Christmas in 2017 that gave the alcohol the opening it needed. In looking for a way to dull the pain of the grief I turned to a friend I swore I’d never turn to. The only difference between 21-year-old me sitting at Broadway with a 6-pack, and 40-year-old with a pile of vodka nips, was that there was nobody to hold me accountable.

The booze helped me cope with Matt’s death, or at least that was my reasoning. I still wasn’t an alcoholic, I was just a sad person who had lost a friend. These are the lies you tell yourself when you know you’re going down a bad path. There’s always an excuse.

My routine barely wavered for nearly 3 years. I was in a liquor store every day, except if I grabbed enough to last me 2 days. I had preferences on what I bought to drink and didn’t stray from them. In fact, if I switched up my order the folks at the liquor stores would remark about it. That’s how familiar they were with me, they knew my daily haul. Being confronted with this I would frequent a different liquor store for a while rather than taking it as a sign that alcohol was too big of a part of my life.

I used to shake my head in disapproval when my father would stop at a liquor store on the ride home from work every single time he drove me home. Now here I was in my 40s, the same age he was then, doing the exact same thing. I was more like him than I ever thought. A lot of sons want to follow in their father’s footsteps. It’s just too bad that my father’s footsteps always led to a liquor store or the unemployment line.

Sure I could blame the deaths of friends and family. I could blame the financial hardship brought on by taking a chance at a career change. I could blame hitting 40. The truth is that I didn’t want to stop drinking. It was a warm blanket of detachment. If I was drinking every night I didn’t have to actually do the work of dealing with all of the issues I just mentioned. The fact that ended up quitting drinking and have been sober for over 4 years shows that I could have done it if I had truly wanted to.

Maybe I say that with 20/20 hindsight. I don’t know. I think there were times during my time as a functioning alcoholic when I was angry and embarrassed that I seemingly had no self-control or self-respect. These times were typically not long after I’d finished my nightly allotment of booze, or first thing the next morning. By early afternoon though all was forgiven and I was back in line at the packie. Thankfully those days are now long gone but for a while, it felt like the demon was my master.

Next: Part 2 - Learning To Let Go of Toxic People, Even Those Close To You