|A walk home in the sunshine with the dogs to the tiniest village in the universe. A real sober treat.|
So today's been a weird one. Out of normal routine, so I've embraced it, change is good.
Husband to airport in the city he's away for work, onwards to dropping my daughters car off and a normal 'mum' uni food parcel. Home on the train, via family to talk about a 'strategy' to get some family members back on track. Home, sunshine and a good walk to get the muscles moving with the dogs. A chat to the alpacas. Yes, alpacas, they have them at the local farm, who knows why, crazy looking things. So we take a walk back to the house in sunshine, go out in the garden and I measured and marked out the veg patch as my railway sleepers arrive tomorrow. All good. Cold and clear day enjoyed being out in it. A good day. Full of sober treats. Like alpacas.
But, a few things have been nagging at me.
This isn't how I'd planned this week. If I'm shamefully honest, I'd planned to get my normal wine and at least a bottle of spirits maybe two for this week, shut the door and just have a no-guilt-drinking fest all to myself. A party for one. Home alone.
Just me, just some spirits, mine for whenever I wanted. He isn't here, I can do what I want. I'm home alone after all.
As I plotted and planned this week out months ago when I heard about his trip, I realised, slowly, but surely my drinking was getting worse. I'm planning to get shit-faced for a whole week whilst no one will know, no kids here, no husband here, no responsibilities so I plan to get rat-faced. I was really looking forward to it. That's kinda when, I knew I was getting worse planning a drinking week. I never have spirits in the house, I've learnt that I just gobble them and I can't do that now. So I hardly ever buy them. Its not safe for me too, I get drunk too quickly and I can't hide it as well as when I drink with wine. So I'd planned a 'spirits week' alone.
So, instead, here I am writing a sober blog. I'm day 37 sober, early days but its still 37 days. Instead of drinking, I'm keeping busy, I'm full of cauliflower cheese and chips (classy me, I'm gorging on food my husband doesn't like this week, whilst I've the kitchen to myself). I'm tired from walking and measuring out the garden. I need a bath. Actually I really CRAVE a bath, candles, bubbles, warmth and calm. And, I'm thinking about gin and alpacas. That's a crazy combo.
And, yet, part of my head is still saying, you've planned this drinking week for ages. Just go for it. No one will know, don't tell them. Its not their business. We planned this.
The other part of my head is saying don't be so fucking stupid. My stupidity is looming in my mind lots at the moment. I'm silly, I'm stupid, I'm daft, I'm broken, I'm an idiot, I'm a freak. That's why I drink. I'm not normal, a horrible person, a bad mother, that voice shouts all my inner fears. And, its deafening. Only wine blots it out. Wine and gin.
The problem is, aside the shouty head voices telling me I'm rubbish, I don't know why I drink. I think that's something that is really bothering me. WHY, why do I drink. I'm not sure it matters right now, but for longer term calmness is that something I need to work on? If I can find out can I fix it. Does it matter? Just don't drink. Not now. Not today.
I've read lots about 'why' people become addicted or abuse alcohol. Some of that fits for me. But, not all of it. I just don't understand why I've been slowly drinking myself into oblivion. Right now, I'm not sure I will ever understand. Does it matter?
Right now I all know is that I just can't drink. If I start, I don't know if I'll stop. I don't know if I'd ever want to stop if I start again. So I'd best not drink, not tonight. Not now.
So I'm keeping busy, annoying you lot. I'm talking to alpacas on my walk (yes really) and stomping about the garden like a mad woman. I'm full of food, full of juice and cosy and my muscles hurt.
I saw my daughter today, its still not easy with her. We use to be so close, but the past few years for one reason or another have found her distant and cold towards me, when the boys in the family notice, you really know something is up. It was pleasant but cold today for the 15 minutes I saw her. That was hard. Was it my drinking that pushed her away. How could I ever know. And, yet I torment myself with thinking about the changes between us.
A real trigger for me normally. Normally after I'd seen her, had the icy blast I'd be running off to find some wine, tearful and inward looking, blaming myself for being a crap mother. Not today, because today was a planned 'spirits drinking day/week'.
And right now, I can't go there. Not today.
So, instead full of food, I've pushed my work into this evening and written a list of chores as long as my arm. That should keep me busy this week. A bed to make, can I get it done this week????? And of course, I need a bath. I really NEED a bath.
Sober mum, she's growing up, just wish her heart would open up a bit and be warmer. Maybe in time.
Sober wife, chores planned instead of getting shit-faced, go me.
Sober girl, reaching out instead of shutting down, writing instead of hiding. Shovelling in cauli-cheese and chips instead of gin.
Small changes. Baby steps. And of course alpacas. Thank god I met them when I was sober. Crazy looking things.
I do waffle on, so thank you for getting this far! If you've something kind or helpful to add or just want to say hello. Please drop a line below. I'd appreciate that. Thank you.