Fill my cup, ‘til it’s overflowing.

Elena and whānau at Oke Bay, Rawhiti, 2023

As we head into the peak of the festive season, we look forward to reconnecting with loved ones, celebrating, reflecting, relaxing and replenishing. For most it’s a time to fill the cup – making sure its overflowing to see us into te tau hou Pākehā. For this Waiora Wenerei we are sharing a reflection piece on 2023 from one of our trustees. We hope that in sharing, it might help shed light on the different ways we fill our cups and normalise kōrero around kaupapa that are casually, and sometimes conveniently, put to the side.

Fill my cup, ‘til its overflowing.

Pour me that glass! A pinot gris, that’s me. A GnT at times, we tried most of the NZ brands during Covid. When the girls are on it, champas of course. Then onto our favourite cocktails - rosebuds and espresso martinis!

Fill my cup, ‘til it’s overflowing.

Not between Monday and Thursday. I can usually get through to Friday. Friday after mahi drinks, let’s go! Work hard, play hard, that’s how we roll. Saturday, where my girls at!!! Sunny day on the deck, cheese and wine for dins? I’ll bring a couple of bottles, see you there! Sunday, roast at the in-laws? Sure! Let’s pick up a nice a bottle of red.

Monday, ok we got this, 4 days ‘til Friday. Oh shoot, we have a work event this evening. Now I’ve started the week with a drink, I might as well write this one off and enjoy 1 or 2 glasses a night. And anyway, it’s going to be a big week at mahi. I’ll need something to take the edge off. And I deserve this one vice, right?

Weekend again, yeeeaah! Off to see the nieces and nephews. I’m a lot more fun (and tolerant) after a couple. I’ll pre-load and finish the bottle there.

Fill my cup,‘til it’s overflowing.

With good times and great memories. A decade full of tiddly fun. And why not? I was pretty much sober during my twenties raising our babies. My thirties were all about reclaiming myself, and it was great. No regrets! 

Well.... there were a couple of times when I went a little overboard. Said some stupid things, overshared, offended my friends, argued pointless arguments, created and participated in dramas. And of course, there were the horrific hangovers. At least 2-3 per year, and I’m talking next level hangovers! Absolute write off!

Sure, I had tried dry July and could go a weekend every now and then without a drink. Looking from the outside in, I was living my best life. I was smashing my mahi, loved sports and exercise, ate well, was active in school kaupapa and kids’ sports, studied reo Māori, a pou within my whānau.

But what you couldn’t see was the internal struggle. More and more, I was thinking about that next drink. Every occasion was a reason to drink. Celebration? Āe! Stressed? Definitely! Work event? Hurō! Friday. Yeeeah! Raining day. Bliss! I could justify every drink with a sound and rational reason.

Fill my cup, ‘til it’s overflowing.

At least, that’s what I thought I was doing, when in fact, my cup was emptying faster than I could fill it, and I was completely blind as to the reasons why. The high and low tides of my life were increasing in size - massive king tides followed by deep lows. I thought it was stress, my relationship, a mid-life crisis even.

Twenty eighth of December 2022, my birthday. I started the day at 6am with a 10km run and felt amazing! My friends and I have a wee tradition of celebrating my birthday together before we head our separate ways for the summer hols. This time, we chose a local garden bar as the spot.

Wine, beers, cocktails, kai, and crack-up stories were flowing. The day was stunning and everything was amazing. Until it wasn’t. The dehydration from my early morning run, add 4 hours in the sun, ignoring the kai and mixing beautiful inu, and I smacked into a wall. Like literally! Whilst attempting to hold myself up over the toilet bowl at a friend’s house. I was uncontrollably sick and needed to go home, it was 7pm!

The next day, I was a mess. And that was it! Something inside me just switched on.... or off. I said to my whānau, I’m done. I googled Huberman Labs and watched a two-hour video about the impact of alcohol on our brain and body. I sobbed the whole way through it.

The tears were for a whole mix of reasons. Relief that I was finally accepting my reality. Sadness that I had done this to myself. Anger that I had let this happen. Fear of whether I was ready to change, and what did change actually mean. Grief for all the fun times that I thought I would now miss out on. Disappointment in who I had become. Confusion as to why it had taken me this long to see it. Rage that I hadn’t been armed (or open to being armed) with knowledge and education about the impacts of alcohol. Despair that all three of my parents who had suffered their own battles with alcohol were no longer alive for me to turn to for advice.

I’m an educated person, but I felt like a complete ‘newb’ when seeking out information on alcohol problems. Whilst I was pretty certain my symptoms weren’t that of an alcoholic, I was in a complete spiral of alcohol dependency.

The biggest realisation for me was that somehow over the last ten years, I had forgotten how to experience my own emotions without alcohol. And I’m talking all emotions, the highs and the lows, even the mundane. It sounds almost impossible to be true, but I was using alcohol to cope with almost every situation I found myself in. And when it was not possible to have alcohol, I was still thinking about it way too often.

So, I announced it. I said it out loud to my whānau. I was going to try and get sober. It sounded so stupid, because we all assumed you needed to be an alcoholic to say you were going to get sober. It meant I had to come clean and tell them what was going on inside my head. I had to admit it to myself first, and then to them, that I had a problem. Even my partner didn’t realise how important alcohol had become to me. It was like I was making it up, even I didn’t know if it was true. But the more I peeled back the layers and exposed what was actually going on inside my hinengaro and my wairua, the more it became clear to me. This was a real thing, and I needed to address it.

Initially, I said I’d try to go without a drink for 100 days. I couldn’t remember a time since before my 30s where I had been without alcohol for more than 100 days. I was absolutely shit scared. I told those closest to me that I would need some support. This was going to be so fricken hard. All of our social events involve alcohol, and it was the middle of summer. It wasn’t even the first of January, and we were about to go on our last family holiday with our big girl before she left to live in Sydney. My emotions were all over the show, happy one minute, crying the next.

Elena and whānau sending off her tamāhine before her move to Poihākena

It helped that my partner joined me a week or so later. He went dry most of January. We managed to stay sober the whole holiday, notwithstanding the tug of war battles we had with each other several times during. Let’s just have one. No, we can’t! But we’re on holiday. But then I have to start all over again…. 

There were all the firsts. The first whānau BBQ; the first big celebration; the first work event. I got some unhelpful, but not totally unexpected comments. Like “but you’re much more fun when you drink”; “I’ll need to find a new drinking bestie”; and “for how long?”. Some were curious about my reasons. Most were quick to reassure me that I was completely normal, and therefore didn’t in fact have a drinking problem. It was a massive eye opener just how socially unacceptable it is not to drink. And how uncomfortable your choice to be sober can make others feel. It seems alcohol dependency is commonplace, and we’ve just accepted it.

Fill my cup, ‘til it’s overflowing.

What does this even mean now I’ve stopped the filling my cup with the thing that brought me so much joy and helped me discover new colours within me. Sorting through my whakaaro and my feelings felt like emptying my cup of all the stories and excuses I had told myself for the last ten years, and empty it was staying.

At least, that’s what I thought. Until I realised, girl you gotta start refilling that cup. You just have to fill it with something else.

So that’s what I did.

Keep an eye out for Fill my cup, ‘til it’s overflowing – the new vibe, to find out how I filled my cup through 2023 without booze!