Dana Bowman Creative

Why I don’t drink. Even at Christmas.

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TW: Possible trigger warning for the struggling drinker: I list some drinkies in this post that I used to love at Christmas time. Just skip it if you are struggling. But also know this: those drinkies are so not even on my radar anymore. It does get better.

Note: this image is not me.

Ok. Here’s the scoop. For this post, I could have done a really clickbaity title like:

TOP TEN REASONS WHY CHRISTMAS DOESN’T EQUAL VODKA!

But I abstained.

(You see what I did there, right? Right?)

The thing is, I used to drink. Like a lot. I was really really good at it. If there had been a prize for Best Drinking I would have at least been a runner up. Or I would have won the Spirit Award and the Spirit Stick would have been a bottle of YellowTail. You get the drift. (I was in drill team in middle school and NEVER won the spirit stick which is still bugging me, fyi.)

The thing is though, quitting drinking was really tough, and I did it right as we were about to head into the Most Wonderful Time of the Year.

At that time, here is what Christmas meant to me:

*cough* Sorry Jesus.

Anyhow, you can imagine this mentality, if you can call it that, worked for a while. But it’s really impossible to lug around all that emotional baggage about The Most Wonderful Time of the Year before I snapped like a peppermint stick.

Solution? I give you… MULLED WINE!!!!

And… I also give you: Schnapps with hot cocoa! And that thick stuff that you put over ice cream but I skipped the ice cream!

But wait! There’s more! Wine in a box because who cares? And ok also bourbon because somebody’s gonna need that for an awful dessert aptly named bourbon balls! And oh heck let’s throw in some hot buttered rum because Clarence talks about it in It’s a Wonderful Life!

Etcetera.

But then, I got sober. I know. What a buzzkill.

But I did it. I actually DID it. There’s a lot of reasons why, and I don’t have time to into all of them here – if you want more details read my books, people. But I got sober. Yea! But in those early days, I realized, to my horror, that just a few months away I was going to have to do Christmas without alcohol.

Addiction does that btw – it gives you all sorts of reasons to NOT stop addicting yourself. It’s the best self-sustainer out there. It says, “But Christmas is coming…” Or, “Friday is coming…” Or, “You’re afraid of really facing the truth that there will always be something to put in the way of your total and tragic addiction to alcohol…” which is long-winded but in my case, very true.

My very first sober Most Wonderful Time of the Year was… tricky. At times it was effervescent. I was sober, and I was free. And it was so glorious. I felt so strong and kind of delighted with myself. I made new friends in recovery. I cried all the time, but mostly in the good way, due to the sheer relief of it all. I was THERE for it.

Unless I wasn’t, and I wanted to drink, which was also a lot of the time. What can I tell you? Early recovery is hard, ya’ll.

But I carried on. And here are a few reasons why:

  1. I would be drinking at Christmas. Like, drinking AT it. To calm it down. To keep it happy. To make it glowy. I did that a lot. I drank AT things. I never just drank. I drank to control.
  2. My children had noticed that mom had changed, and to change back to the previous version? I just couldn’t bear to think about how they would process that.
  3. I couldn’t bear to process that, either. There’s enough outside heartbreak in my life; I didn’t have to do stuff to heartbreak it all by myself.
  4. I knew that sustaining sober time, just one day at a time, would be the number one way I could get long-term sobriety. But also? I looked to the next Christmas as my anchor. I saw myself, a that next sober Christmas. She looked happy. And a lot stronger. And I was just so proud of her. So, I stayed in at one day at a time and I also looked ahead. It’s trippy but it worked.
  5. Because the words “happy, joyous, and free” had started to bubble up in me, and no amount of fancy drinkies were going to generate those real feelings. It’s true. For me, sobriety was the best buzz around. And I think that needs to be on a t-shirt.
  6. I just had to. I would die if I kept going. I knew it.

So, that’s my list.

And I’m sticking to it.

I love you, my friends.

If you would like a printable of the above list, maybe to just paste up on a kitchen cabinet to remind yourself… you can download it here.

Don’t worry – it’s not a “add your email to the list!” thing. It’s just because I put post-its all over my house in the first year to remind me why I was doing the sober thing, and they helped. Think of it as a small early Christmas present for yourself.

This is in fact me.

* And? I would like to just say? Mulled wine is gross, y’all. One should never add cinnamon to wine. But I found a loophole and just drank a truckload of wine before the cinnamon. As one does when one has a drinking problem.

Kittens and fudge and wifi.

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I’m writing this from the fourth coffeehouse in two days. Also there was boba tea in there at some point and a really good burger.

I’m on a writer’s retreat, ya’ll. Sustenance.

There has also been fudge. But only purchased, not consumed. Yet.

Oh and some frozen lemonade thing that really didn’t seem all that lemonadey. I need my lemonade to smack me in the mouth with its tartness. This one just sort of booped me in the nose. It’s ok, lemonade. You be you.

But Dana, you ask. When are you actually writing?

IN BETWEEN, SILLY.

On this retreat I have:

  1. Had a very serious talk with my Calendar. We got eye to eye and I said things like, “Ok, Calendar. Cut it out. I’m in charge. I AM. You’re not the boss of me.
  2. Added about 6 more things to Calendar.
  3. Wrote a blog post and a newsletter.
  4. Finally finished the book synopsis I talk about here.
  5. Worked on chapters 1 and 2. All the while there was a constant soundtrack in my head to the tune of: “What Do You Think You’re Doing, Dana, You Total Fakezoid.” It has a snazzy beat.

I want you to realize, dear reader, that imposter’s syndrome is very common. I think I could seriously win a Pulitzer and I would still be all “It was probably a fluke and someone out there by the name of Dana Bawman is really ticked off that I stole her Pulitzer.”

But here is what I learned while I was here:

  1. Coffeeshops regularly chose really interesting music. I am currently listening to showtunes in Japanese. Thanks Reverie Coffee for the culture. Also, you make a lemon cream croissant that is to die for.
yes my love.

2. If I listened to all the voices in my head I would be home making a blanket fort with my cats and as great as that sounds one cannot achieve your highest potential when that is ALL that you do. Don’t come at me, cats.

3. People are really nice. While here, I have had recommendations for food, walking paths, books, and the best burger. People are interested in what I’m writing and they are all about encouragement. People are just amazing.

4. I will never be as cool as a barista.

Don’t allow your inner voice to shut you down. If it keeps telling you all sorts of negative things? That’s not an inner voice. That’s an inner a$$hole. This sounds really weird and ew and like something from a David Cronenberg movie and I hate his movies.

David, if you’re reading my blog, I’m sorry.

(spoiler alert he’s not reading it)

I will have to say, though: if blanket forts with your cat are your thing? Do it. It does sound kinda cool.

In conclusion, I leave you with a whole heck of a lot of writing yet to do, but also this video of fudge. You’re welcome.

https://www.youtube.com/shorts/MtnRDPPGw-0

After Silence, better.

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One does not intend to disappear. But I did, for months.

There are a few reasons. And, if you are at all familiar with me (it’s been awhile, I know), you know I love lists. So…

A List of Reasons Why I Disappeared:

  1. Uh. Covid.
  2. Covid again.
  3. Depression. Probably b/c Covid.
  4. Menopause. ???
  5. Yea, no, I’m not going to put “???” with “Menopause” like it’s not a thing. It was a THING y’all, and it still is. Mix it liberally w/ #1-3 and it was craptastic.
  6. I left my original publisher, for other reasons that are just my own, and then promptly felt all adrift and lost and didn’t know what to do with myself.

Perhaps this list is similar to a creative list of your own. I mean… #6 might be a bit niche-y. But, have you felt stuck and small and adrift? Well THAT’S BEEN ME FOR A WHILE NOW.

But, in the incandescent words of my muse, Eminem: “Guess who’s back. Back again. Shady’s back. Tell a friend.”

Look. I’ve had a lot of time to sit and ponder. A good portion of my summer was me, literally, lying on my back and pondering the ceiling, as I was so sick that reading, writing, and even Netflix were impossible. It was like I was simply forced to just… be. And be very still. And at first I hated it, and then I hated it some more. And then? I noticed something.

I kept getting ideas.

The reason I am a writer is because I have all these ideas that keep floating up, and then I write about them. But while I was dealing with #1-6 above all my writing stopped. But the ideas? They quietly, flutteringly, floated up at me. They kept coming. And one evening, stuck in my sick room, just me and my ceiling, frustrated and sad about it all – I started to cry and as the tears slipped down my face (gravity) to pool into my ears (you know you’ve had this happen) and I had an idea: Tears are ways to stopper up sound. And sometimes silence is good. Total stops are good. Being STILL is good.

It was both an idea and medicine at the same time.

That idea and all the others that would gently float by me – they gave me hope. And I recorded some of them (I texted myself or wrote them down in on a notebook, as one does when one is a Writer) and I realized two things:

  1. I still have ideas and God kept them coming even in my darkest hour. Maybe even because of my darkest hour.
  2. In the incandescent words of my muse that old guy in Monty Python? I’M NOT DEAD YET.

Thanks for listening, folks. Keep listening, if you want, to hear more about creativity, our brains, and how we must value our creative selves if we want to survive this world.

I’m honored to have ye.

Oh! And actually? I did a bit of shopping while I was prone, and I bought this. It was a crucial purchase.

Start a podcast they said. It’ll be easy they said.

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Photo by Sincerely Media on Unsplash
This is not actually me or my office. This is a stunt podcaster and her stunt office.

Back in the day I just used to write stuff.

But now I’ve basically turned into Steven Spielberg.

Here’s how that happened: I was at a writer’s conference back in the days of long ago when things like that happened, and I figured… Hey I should start a podcast.

Did I know exactly WHAT my pod would be about? No. Of course not. I just figured people would like the sound of my voice.

I realized, pretty soon, that the sound of my voice is really annoying in a sort of tired Minnie Mouse kind of way. Minnie Mouse who has sort of given up and wears sweats a lot and leans on things and says things like, “It is what it is.” That kinda vibe.

But I kept going. First of all, I decided on a topic because otherwise it’s sort of like getting your car keys, going out to your car and then saying “Tally ho!” and heading off a cliff. Figuratively. Not literally. No cliffs in my real life.

Topic: Creativity and Recovery. Done. Easy Peasy Podcast Squeezy.

So NOW all I have to do is… I decided to um… What I need to do next is… well this is where it gets kinda tricky.

“Kinda tricky” = MAJOR UNDERSTATEMENT. HOLY COW.

So, podcasts. *sits down and clasps hands and takes a deep breath then slowly slides off chair onto the floor into a puddle*

Um. Here’s this list:

publishing platforms, recording devices, audacity? garageband? big mics that cost 300$? we transfer, earbuds no, stealing headphones from my boys, ok I’ll buy real headphones, somehow i also ended up with a ring light which makes me glowy and ethereal so i’m here for it, there’s a weird ticking noise on my recording, my voice now has an echo like i’m in a well, i’m actually in a well or despair, graphics i need graphics, how DO i get the @##$$ loop thing to turn off i don’t want to repeat myself anymore than I already do, how DO i get the @##$$ loop thing to turn off i don’t want to repeat myself anymore than I already do, i do actually need to feed my children in here somehow, the dogs get really excited when i turn the mic thingie on, the mic thingie is on but I can’t hear myself, mailchimp is the devil, libsyn or podbean or buzzsprout oh my, music intros, music outtros, what is an outro and how do you spell it, wordpress, youtube tutorials, so many tutorials, itunes, spotify, skitcher, more tutorials, and I got vaccinated and was completely sick for two days so i forgot how to do any of this and had to go back and rewatch all the tutorials.

Deep breath.

The work continues my friends. Pie and Coffee is being recorded and yes miracles do happen. And now I’m off to watch another tutorial. This one is about how to help your cat Steve lose weight, but still.

I want to have Pie and Coffee with you. Here’s why.

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Photo by Lee Cartledge on Unsplash

It’s my mom’s fault.

My mom makes a peaches and cream pie that tastes like the peaches were blessed by Jesus. Like, he’s up in heaven, just fishing with his buddies, and then stops and says, “Hold on. Julie is making a pie. I’ll be right back.” Also, my sister makes the World’s Best Apple Pie because she learned from Julie the Queen of All the Pies. And on and on. *

Ya’ll. I am serious about pie.

But, really, this is a blog about sobriety. And pie. Because together? They go to eleven.

Yes, that is a Spinal Tap reference. If you know, you know.

When I got sober, I met a bunch of old-timers in my recovery group (You might know us; we are at the front of the phone book), and they kept talking about this unicorny thing called “the meeting after the meeting.”

I had two boys under the age of four. Very rarely did I attend a meeting without zipping straight home afterwards because I was secretly convinced the boys would tie up the husband and get a driver’s permit between the two of them, and head for Vegas.

Incidentally, I was learning in recovery about my tendency to over exaggerate just a teensy-tinsy bit. Progress not perfection, folks.

But deep down, I longed for this meeting after the meeting business. As soon as I walked in the door to my group I could take a breath. A deep one. My insides matched my outsides. I felt at home and at peace. It was a pie and coffee situation all up in here. I wanted this feeling to last.

So, here we are. Cue my coffeeshop dreams.

So, why should we meet for Pie and Coffee?

  1. We’re all in recovery from something. Join us at the table.
  2. It’s a safe place. There’s some music and lots of sugar and we can talk without weirdness. Sad and happy stuff. The beginnings and the ends. The middles. The all of it.
  3. You know when you would go out for a bite to eat with your friends and you felt comfortable enough to slide your slice of lemon meringue pie across the table because it was just that good and you just have to share? That’s here.
  4. Lingering is fully accepted and expected. It’s like that Cranberries song, but without the angst.
  5. We savor life and all of its flavors. Yes that sounds cheesy. But, honestly, when I got sober I felt like all of life had more color. More flavor. More… MORE-ness. When I got sober I went in search of the absolute best recipe for strawberry shortcake. Yes, it’s not pie. But the analogy stands. I wanted all the flavors and there was a lot of joy in all that whipped cream.
  6. I have never laughed more than with my sober peeps. Once, at a meeting, I laughed so hard I snorted coffee through my nose. Since it was meeting-coffee, it was tepid, so that saved me and my sinuses. There was a lot of pain still, but it was worth it.
  7. This is the kind of place where folks can lean back and rest. It’s comfy. You wear your elastic pants and a hoodie. Bra optional.
  8. Overtipping happens on the regular here. Generosity. Service. Helping others. That kind of thing. It’s a “pass it on” kinda place. Also, I used to be a waitress and it was the only job where I got fired. I was lousy. I believe overtipping, both in life and figuratively, helps restore the balance. Or something like that. If you are still following me here you are my people.
  9. I don’t think I have ever had better conversations than late at night ones over a hot cup of coffee in a heavy white mug. This is where we listen. We lean in to each other. We share the bill. We say things like, “We need to do this more often,” and we actually mean it.
  10. We share dreams.

Pie and Coffee is a place where I share how creativity saved my life. When I got sober, I faced the void of me (without wine.. who am I?) and then I started, slowly… to fill it. Dreams started slowly unfurling their little ferny leaves, and then they started actually coming true. That’s what accessing whimsy on a daily basis can do, folks.

And, I started diving into research about neuroplasticity, and how my brain really really wants me to get better, every day. Guys, our brains? They are on our side. If they could, they would wear little brain-sized jerseys with our names on it. My brain? It’s rooting for me.

Which leads me back to the most science-y statement I have ever made:

Creativity makes my brain just go better.

I know. I don’t know why I didn’t pursue a career in science-y stuff. Cleary I have the gift.

Ok, so who wants to get Pie and Coffee with me? Join me for lots of talk on recovery, creativity, community, and healing. Also, we will laugh. That is mandatory.

And occasionally, share some really good pie recipes. Like this one. You’re welcome. Or about the time I had to have a pie intervention. It’s true.

*If you haven’t caught on… hyperbole is my jam. Million dollar jam that is the most important jam in history of jam.