Teetotally Surprised

This isn't exactly related to Paris or veganism, but the last 31 days of not drinking have certainly been an adventure.

I embarked on this intentional dry spell for a few reasons, beginning with willpower. Do I possess any? I've been able to dig in and move past some other toughies over the years--a wicked nicotine addiction lasting more than a decade being the biggie. But--as anyone who knows me well will attest--I LOVE drinking. More specifically, I love the taste of a good red wine (or white. or rose. sparkling or not.).

I also adore the relaxing effects that alcohol delivers. Another thing most close friends and family know about me is that I'm an anxiety case. It's gotten better over the years, and I've never had to rely on pharmaceuticals to see me through it--because why should I? I've got booze! Alcohol really worked for me on that level, but deep down, I've always felt there were probably healthier ways to deal with those worrisome feelings.

And finally, I've really been wanting to take control of my health, but just have't been able to lately. I've gained a few pounds (five, to be precise) since moving to France, and it's really eroded my confidence as it relates to body image. And I've also experienced bouts of acne in the last  few years that I suspect are hormonal, but knowing that the liver helps regulate hormones, I wondered if a taxed organ might be impeding my body's ability to heal itself.

The experience was wonderful and weird and interesting. I expected to have wine cravings, but I really didn't. I did end up craving sugar, which is what our bodies convert alcohol into, so that made sense. I ate chocolate for breakfast probably 25 out of the past 31 days. But not before downing a glass of lemon water, followed by another glass of water with a dropperful of milk thistle, a powerful herb that supports liver health.

The hardest part of living "clean and slobber" (as my old friend Chris from my SF/SPCA days would quip) was the social aspect. Attending events where the wine was flowing and not engaging in the liquid experience was so overwhelmingly incongruous to my normal habits that my brain didn't know how to handle it. It sometimes felt like I was having an out of body experience, watching a tray of Champagne flutes float by and saying "non, merci."

Mostly, I said "no" to social engagements--especially parties or gatherings at old watering holes. I just didn't think it would be fun without booze, which got me wondering: Is going to bars and cafes just a big waste of time?

Three weeks in and feeling good!

Unexpectedly, my anxiety actually seemed to decrease without alcohol in the picture. I don't know what that's all about exactly--especially considering I would often drink coffee in those moments when I'd normally order un verre de vin rouge--but I welcomed it. And I didn't have problems sleeping like I thought I might. In fact, I slept really, really well, nearly every night.

On a purely superficial level, the best part about my month-long booze fast is that my skin really looks a lot better. More hydrated. Less acne. Less redness. Just better. And while I can't say for sure, I think I've lost weight. I'm really happy about that.

Another surprise is that I didn't really feel any different, physically. Not really any increased energy or anything like that. I don't know what I was expecting, but it seemed a little strange that besides clearer skin and possible weight loss, there were no real physical effects. I asked Jeff if I seemed any different, personality wise, as a drinker vs. non-drinker, and he said no. OK. Interesting!

Today is Chinese New Year. I'm having friends over for dinner and I may or may not have a drink. I love the thought of moderation, of not being dependent on anyone or any thing, and also of letting go of things that don't serve me well. I hope that it's not a slippery slope, and that an evening of social drinking won't "undo" the nice changes that have transpired in the last month. It's the year of the horse, and in the spirit of holiday, I'm charging forward at a good gallop, bringing good habits with me into the new year.

Trip to the Grande Herboristerie (And my liver shouts "YES!")

Moderation is definitely not my middle name.

I tend to do things in excess, for better or for worse. (Usually for worse.) Worrying is something I do to excess, and I tend to stress about things that really don't merit the time or the energy. To combat this, I should reach toward meditation, yoga, or other relaxation techniques, but usually I just reach for a glass of wine. Its efficacy is palpable immediately, plus, it tastes good! It tastes so good that I drink it even when it's not needed for medicinal purposes. As in, every day.

This year, however, I've made a promise to myself. OK: Let's call it a resolution, since that's what we tend to make this time of year. So: I've resolved to treat my body with more kindness and respect, and to attempt moderation on a variety of fronts. I like clean slates, so to get started with the physical component, I decided to make a trip to the Grand Herboristerie of Paris in search of some plant-based curatives to nettoyer the ol' liver and help support my health in a general way.

I fell madly in love with the place almost immediately (See? there's that excessive bit I mentioned earlier), because really, what's not to love about a vintage apothecary that smells nice, is filled with healing herbs, and is staffed by helpful, friendly people? (That last bit is somewhat of a rarity here in Paris.)

For mid-day on a Wednesday, the place was buzzing. When I walked in, a woman was being helped by one staffperson, and another worker zipped out from behind an old wooden counter to help me almost as soon as I'd crossed the threshold. 

"Do you want me to stay here in and help you or should I leave you to explore on your own?" asked the man, a thirty-ish fellow with a well-groomed beard and a long saffron scarf coiled around his neck.

"I'll have a look first and then pester you with questions afterward," I replied.

This branch--there are two in Paris (the other is near St. Michel)--has stood in this very spot since 1880, and some of the jars, canisters, and scales look like they are Belle Epoque originals. While I stared at the old medicine bottles and herb-y ephemera, I felt transported back to another time. I was only pulled out of my time-warp trance by the jangling chime of the doorknob bells as people came and went.

It didn't take long for me to realize I wouldn't be able to navigate this terrain on my own; I needed a guide, and I might as well take advantage of this attentive man who looks like he really wants to help me sort out my health issues. I just had to make eye contact and he was immediately at my side again.

"I'm looking for something to detoxify my liver," I told him. "Do you have something for that?"

"I've got just the thing for you!" he replied, gliding back around the mahogany counter and plucking a white  paper package roughly the size of a two-pound sac of sugar off the shelves.

"Voila. This is an herbal blend that you drink three times a day, until you've finished the entire packet," he advised. He explained how to prepare it, and warned me that it might be bitter to taste, in which case I could add a bit of sweetener.

While we spoke, a half-dozen people came and left. The demographic tended toward the silver set, which seemed surprising somehow. Didn't old people prefer Geritol and pharmaceuticals? Apparently not.

 He rang me up, and the total came to €14,80. It seemed a fair price.

Once I got home, I brewed up a batch according to the instructions: Put three teaspoons in a pot and cover with half a liter of cold water. Bring to a boil and let simmer for three minutes, then remove from heat and allow to cool. Drink three times a day, every day.

The taste? Like the guy forewarned, it's somewhat bitter, with a woodsy sort of flavor. There's a hint of licorice, too, which, as I look at the ingredients, makes sense. Reglisse (licorice) is the last ingredient listed. There's also artichoke, corn, and green anise, and black radish in the blend.

It'll probably take three or four weeks to work through this bag, and while I'm not expecting any miracles, I do expect my liver will be in better shape then than it is now. Have you ever tried an herbal "cure"? What was it for, and how did it make you feel?

Did you make a new year's resolution, and if so what was it?