Post #13 - It Ain’t Me, Babe
I’ve had an art project swirling around in my brain for about a year now. It’s all about labels. We all wear them - and I don’t mean the ones sewn into our clothing. We carry them around and are identified by these labels - some happen before we are born. I started journaling all of the labels I have been given through life and some given by others, and I have almost filled up another Moleskine journal.
Some labels are natural and we all have them - child, sibling, teenager, grandchild, etc… Some labels come based on our own actions (lazy, driven, ambitious); some labels come based on other’s perceptions (snobby, funny, quick); and, some labels come through societal norms and how we have framed people (slutty, prudish, fat, thin). And, then there are labels we get that we never wanted (widow/er, orphan, survivor). I’m sure you get where I’m going with this.
I was zooming with a friend I hadn’t spoken to or seen in some time, and I was so delighted that she and I had a chance to catch up. She was able to “meet” Rich over zoom and I was able to see her dear, smiling face while we had such a familiar conversation. It had been years since we spoke, but it was like no time had passed. She has always been very comforting to me and she knows ALL of the skeletons in my closet. The one thing she said to me that really hit home was, “Marissa. You know how to do this. You’ve been a survivor your whole adult life.” And, while I knew exactly what she meant, the words hit me in the face - in a good way!
My dear friend, was referring to me as a survivor of an assault that happened when I was 19. I don’t speak of it much, and I don’t feel like I need to. It happened. It sucked. I moved on. But, my friend knew of it and knew that there was a time when I had a hard time coping with the fact that I was a statistic. I also have never really felt like a “survivor”, as I had never seen the attack as violent or life-threatening. It took me some time to even realize that it had happened and admit it to myself.
When I thought about her words, I knew she was right. Just as I picked up and moved on with my life after the assault in my teenage years, I could pick up and move on after this “attack” from cancer. I know the work I need to do and what tools I can use to cope. I also know that I can reframe this label, “Survivor”, as a badge of honor. I beat this thing. I’m alive and well and I am healthier than I was before all of this. I get more minutes, hours, and days (I hope!) with my loved ones. Nothing else really matters.
A brand new label that came from this journey is “sober”. Anyone that knew me in my teenage years, into my 20’s and through most of my 30’s knew me as a drinker - wait, let me rephrase that. A heavy, binge drinker. I was out 3-4 times a week until all hours of the morning drinking with friends, keeping up with the boys, and “celebrating” life. Numbing stress and using alcohol as a coping mechanism was the way I rolled. Drinking was involved in almost ALL activities: brunches, lunches, dinner, weekends, parties, unwinding after work, etc… There weren’t any functions that didn’t usually involve alcohol. It seemed normal and just what we did. There were times I would go through bouts of sobriety, but I never thought I wouldn’t drink again.
When I received my diagnosis, I went on to the American Cancer Society website and was soaking up all of the knowledge that was available to me about my diagnosis and what my life may look like after I beat it. One of the bits of advice I saw was to limit alcohol after my surgery, as alcohol has contributed to several different kinds of cancer as well as rare forms of cancer. At that moment, I knew I wouldn’t drink again. I just made a decision to stop drinking. If it would help me (even in the smallest way) to not end up in this place again, then the decision was made for me.
I sought out literature on this subject and I found, “Quit Like a Woman” by Holly Whitaker. This book has changed my life forever and I am so very grateful for it. Learning about how alcohol has become such a focus in our culture and how women have been targeted by alcohol corporations and marketers made me realize that I don’t need to drink anymore. It never added anything positive to my life, and once I was honest with myself about that, I knew I wasn’t going back.
I don’t judge those that choose to drink. Rich still has a glass of wine at night, and I do not mind at all. I don’t question my choice and I no longer crave alcohol or want it. I don’t have a “sober date” as I never saw it as a monumental event. All I did was make a choice and I stand by it. I put myself first and it has changed my life, my brain, my body, and my outlook on life. I’m proud of all of my labels. Especially the ones I have earned on my own.