A List of Maybe’s

Summary

The author embarks on a personal journey of abstaining from alcohol for the month of January, reflecting on the impact of this decision on their life and habits in Hammana, Lebanon.

Abstract

The article titled "Revealing the roots of behaviors and addictions" presents a reflective narrative of the author's decision to participate in "dry-uary," a challenge to abstain from alcohol for the entire month of January. The author, Josie Elbiry, residing in Hammana, Lebanon, since 2010, recounts the festive New Year's Eve celebration that led to a hangover on January 1st. This day marks the beginning of their alcohol-free journey, which is juxtaposed with the social and cultural environment that typically involves alcohol consumption. The author expresses a sense of excitement and curiosity about the potential physical and mental benefits of this choice, such as improved sleep, a more active lifestyle, and a deeper understanding of their inner voice and behaviors. Despite the temptation of alcohol during a family lunch, the author remains committed to the challenge and looks forward to the transformative possibilities it may bring, while also acknowledging the fear that nothing might change.

Opinions

The author views the challenge of "dry-uary" as an opportunity for self-examination and personal growth.
There is an acknowledgment of the social nature of alcohol consumption, as seen in the description of the New Year's Eve celebration and the family lunch.
The author expresses a positive outlook on the potential health benefits of abstaining from alcohol, including better sleep and increased physical activity.
The author admits to feeling a mild attraction to alcohol during the first day of the challenge but remains determined.
There is a hint of skepticism or fear about the outcome of the challenge, with the author pondering whether there will be any significant change in their life.
The author's relationship with their hometown, Hammana, and its culture is depicted as vibrant and evolving, with new establishments bringing life to the area.

I was thirteen the last time I went without alcohol for 31 days

Image courtesy of Pixabay

“Hookers, lookers, pink-skinned babies, Here is a list of maybe’s That I have saved for you.” Bigger Wheels — I Am Kloot

Today is Day One, January 1st, the Clean Slate. Our house on the Rue 9 is littered with land mines of cheese and salami, the spinach hors d’oeuvres, the Martini Rosso, the sticky Triple-Sec, the wine, the bourbon, the bitters, the confetti, and the noisemakers. All are strewn about in the blinding light of morning.

I was dragged from a stupor at 10:30 am to eat breakfast with our overnight guests: ginger beer, water, coffee. God, no knefe, please. No cheese and fat.

Tylenol. Coffee. There, that’s better. A slight hangover was worth it for what was a successful night. Hammana used to be a ghost town, but no longer. The dual-opening of a new pub and an artist cultural exchange house has pumped new life into our mountainside hamlet here in Lebanon.

We went into town to party in the souks. There were fires in the street and music and drums and pale ale and punch. We had a great time. When we got home, a few of us felt like bourbon and tortilla chips sounded nice, so we capped the night off with a couple of those and fell into bed at 3:30 am. Hence the throbbing head.

Today is a new day. I decided a few weeks ago that I would use today to jump into a growing trend called dry-uary, a 31-day journey of re-examining my alcohol consumption — by consuming zero alcohol.

It is exhilarating not to know what lies ahead. Today, I took a walk in the windy sun with a list of giddy maybe’s. Maybe my limbs will find new life. Maybe I will sleep dreamlessly. Maybe I’ll come to understand the power of my inner voice, the one that can bend space and time and land me on the porch with a cocktail when only seconds before I was applying for a job or reading short stories, the one that is so clever it has rewired my cognitive memory. Only recently have I pieced together that I was thirteen years old the last time I went without alcohol for 31 days.

Thirteen.

For some reason, I am not fearful. I’m sort of elated that I can make this choice, that I have the conscious power to choose to look at myself with clarity and love, to decide to feel everything. I anxiously wait to see what will happen to my body.

So, I’ll post something daily through this walk in the woods. I pledge to be honest. For example, I concede that I was mildly attracted to the beer, whiskey, and arak on the lunch table today with our cousins across the street. I was still feeling a bit wishy-washy and had some heartburn. But boy, that arak would’ve been good.

Tonight, I will sleep and wake up on January 2nd with a fresh purpose. So far, abstaining from alcohol has been primary on my mind all day today, and I know it will be my first conscious thought tomorrow upon opening my eyes. Weather pending, I’ll go for a walk again and let all the maybe’s wash through my mind. Until then, I’m just enjoying all the vague plans I have and imagining a metamorphosis. True-to-self, I tend to dampen such tempting ideas with what-if-nothing-changes.

What if nothing changes?

What if everything changes.

This series of short memoirs takes place in Hammana, Lebanon, my home, since 2010. “Knefe” (ku-NEF-eh) is a local pastry of sesame and cheese. “Arak” is a local traditional distillation of grapes. It is mixed with water and becomes a cloudy, chilled drink that smells and tastes like licorice.