When I get drunk and fall on my ass

“Bygone troubles are good to tell.”  ~Yiddish Proverb

I’ve been known to drink quite a bit and now I feel compelled to assure that this is not a daily occurance. I don’t wake up each morning craving vodka on the rocks but I do fully embrace my heart healthy glass of red wine with my meal. But then there are the times where I’m flitting around, caught in the moment. The drinks are poured and the laughs start; the stories and “Remember when…” that end in a slew of words and a fit of giggles. Those moments when we up and decide on anothe round because sometimes it feels good to be caught in the whirl of things only stopping to smile and embrace the good. The evenings wear on and the guffaws turn into a cacophany of noise as it is so possible to be carried on an air of good feeling and adrenaline. But the evening ends and what was once fun slowly turns topsy turvy complete with the spins and what was once fun may turn sour. Sometimes you puke. Or sometimes you just fall on your ass and the laughter starts again. The best parts are the mornings; waking up giggling with friends over brunch. It’s the silly happy drunk with life and martinis and stories to share.

At the start of January I was drunk. Slap happy drunk and full of good thoughts and feelings. I kept refilling my glass and grooving around so feuled by pure energy that I thought it would propel me to a year of awesomeness. Then 11 days in, I fell on my ass. I wasn’t drunk and happy go lucky anymore. I was ornery, sad and surly. Convinced that I was destined to falter and fail. It was this crushing failure that rears its ugly little head every once in awhile. The time that burns and turns everything inside into something the consistency of sawdust.

But I do that a lot – I get swept up in the moment, lose my footing and then fall. It’s not just the wine but its how life is. Going through motions and enjoying things, bobbing and weaving and yeah, you fall on your ass. I fall on my ass more than I would ever like to admit. You fall, you might puke, you might even get a hangover but you have to keep going. It takes a few weeks but until one day you sit at a table with your friends laughing over martinis. Remembering why you do the things that you do and that even when you have those awful bad days that are so hard to bear that tears prick your eyes that there is the good.

So sometimes I get drunk I fall on my ass. And instead of laying there whimpering I get up again and eventually throw my head back and laugh because it never fails that there are these people around me who help me up again and support and I lean on them to something better just around the corner.