Friday, 27 February 2015

Bob and Brenda

Someone shared this on another thread in cyber-space I'm on. Whilst its silly, its an interesting watch. 'Be sensible on the sauce' was not something I could ever do.

Thursday, 26 February 2015

Day 145 - Daring to be sober

Firstly thank you so much for the comments and the support on Friday when I bared my confused soul to the universe regarding craving drinking due to stress kids cause. Of course the kids don't often directly cause the stress, but the worry of parenting for me, does. I find trying to be a proper parent overwhelming, I have no real frame of reference and I know for me, whilst its important to be a good parent, I try often, very very hard and it makes me quite stressed and possibly, if I'm truthful, even more resentful to my own parent for my crappy upbringing.

So having bared my 'I want to drink, this being a parent is too hard', soul to you all, I spent the next part of Friday night in the car with a mocktail, being driven to pick them both up. Feeling very sub-versive, raspberry ginger mocktail in hand, calming the nerves. But, we had a lovely time. And guess what. I was present for my kids the whole time. From the minute they arrived hours late on the train (more mocktail time), to the awkward, what do we do now we're this late (takeaway) and the yes this 'pish' in the fridge (their words not mine) is alcohol free cider/beer/wine and there's juice galore, fill your boots. Its what we have in, there is no alcohol. And, so they did. Reading labels and pffting at the 0% on the bottles. Everyone settled into just 'being' and it was nice. 

Yes I was anxious, probably as I have ever been without my 'mother's little helper' of a G&T to take the edge off. But, hey I'm daring to be sober. 

It was, I have to say a good weekend. Not without stress (mostly mine) and a lot of chat and catching up. For once, when I felt a bit anxious, I just said to my husband, this is freaking me out a bit. And, he advised to 'chill' (why is it that to be calm one has to be cold?) and go with the flow. So we did.  And I trusted him to keep me right. He was my rock.

And the weekend rumbled along, kids up late, me up early (like 7.30 am on both mornings) I just pottered, walked the dogs, collected some free wood and left the stove on for when they did surface. Watching the two kids natter and have brekkie on the sofa, at 11 am whilst I pottered in the garden was good. They had some time, I had some time. I've accepted I don't need to be all things and all-singing-mother-earth at all times. In truth I think, I just relaxed a bit. They accepted me being out at ungodly-o-clock as part of my charm, and I accepted that we weren't eating breakfast together that day. No perfect all sitting around the table, with a home-made feast. Just normal stuff.

I think sometimes the pressure we give ourselves to be the perfect parent cripples our inner self. So I dared to be a bit more me, the sober me I've recently met. And, just because there wasn't a hand made breakfast feast, with hand squeezed juices, and there wasn't a smiley mother in an apron in the kitchen, standing by the range tending to her offspring, no one actually died.

(Mother was actually in the garden, enjoying herself whilst the young folks got themselves sorted).

Odd really, giving yourself permission to live and breath like a normal human being. I know as a parent myself I bent over backwards to try and make everything as perfect a parenting/child experience as I could sometimes. And, then of course tired, exhausted actually, a bit resentful sometimes, opening a bottle of wine made that go away for a while. 

So what I learnt this weekend sober is that its OK to go with the flow. OK have plans but realistically, it often all goes pear shaped in a flash and new adventures happen. Like kids getting up late, later starts, later than late lunches which means you flop into a heap full to bursting from a really late lunch, when its really normal tea time. You play scrabble with the kids and natter instead of preparing that 'special meal' you've been planning. So, you lob an organic chicken in the oven at gone 7.30pm thinking, crap can we really do crackers, fake-christmas and all the trimmings at almost 10pm at night.

If everyone's up for it then yes, its OK to eat late, if you're hungry.

And they were, and it was fun, aside the stressy bit when I was nearly in tears thinking, am I this CRAP that I can't even get a dinner on the table in time.  So I took myself off for a lovely sober bath whilst the kids sorted the dinner, listened to a podcast. I didn't give myself (too) hard a time. And it all tasted good. And sitting on the sofa in February wearing silly cracker hats was fine and fun in fact.

No lovely sober girl, instead of trying to be super-mum (who also secretly drinks) you sat down and spent time with the only home for a short while teenagers, who didn't actually mind eating a 'christmas' dinner on the sofa at gone 10 pm watching a movie. You didn't sneak off and drink, you did it all sober. And you kissed both kids good night, sober.

And, on Sunday we waited for breakfast until everyone was up. Enjoyed some family chat, finally eating at the kitchen table for the first time over the weekend, which was nice, but not necessary for all meals. I waved goodbye to the teenagers at train stations and thought to ourselves we had a good weekend.

Now, if I'd been drinking, my paranoia and self loathing would have bludgeoned me like a large pointy stick.

If I'd drank on the Friday night they arrived, I'd have tried too hard to make it all perfect. And the overwhelming pressure from that would have seen me drink some more and some more. Striving to be perfect.

I'm not perfect, but I am sober.

And daring to stay that way.

145 days today. 

And after the marathon of shoddy meal planning and scrabble playing. A sober cuppa with some sober friends, a special treat to round off a lovely weekend. Mind on though, I might never want to eat again, so much food was consumed.

 I think I'm learning, its OK to not be perfect. Its OK to feel stress and say, 'This is making me stressed, I'd hoped we'd have a nice dinner'. And its OK to accept help, delegate and bend the rules slightly, because looking after me, even with the folks I love the most in the universe, is important. Underwhelm is also important, it keeps me sober.

Sober first, always.

Friday, 20 February 2015

Day 139 - And then there's worry

Hey well I'm squirming writing this and my hands are shaking but I guess if I get it out of my head perhaps I won't keep obsessing about it.  So the kids are coming home this weekend probably for the first time in this house, both together. Sure they've been here separately but whilst my son has been challenging in the past, he's just so easy now and I'm proud to call him son and friend. I know its always trite when I read things like that. But, seriously he's one of my favourite people in the universe. Now that's not to say my daughter isn't but things have been far from easy between us for a while now, came to a head in the summer. Rather than tackle it full on, I gave her space and took to my drinking with gusto to block out the pain. She took herself off to New Zealand and I licked my wounds in my drinking lair with my Wine Wolf for company and my drinking got worse and hit a low, as bad as its ever been. We've not had a row, its just been that kind of festering silence that makes my paranoia about being a bad parent reach epic proportions. 

So we've a kind of truce now, which was agreed a few weeks ago. I've still no real idea why she got so angry with me, but things I hope are healing a bit. Hence the weekend home, as a family. I'm excited, I'm nervous, I'm happy, I'm scared, I'm everything rolled into one. And, whilst its maybe hard to write, I know this is because I don't want to get hurt again. I know I am the parent and the bigger person but when your child rejects you and seems to have such anger towards you, whether  you know why or not, it hurts like stink. So my hearts a bit cautious whilst my head is telling me, you're the parent, just open your arms and relax. Welcome them into the fold.

I've also got this huge voice in my head that's telling me drinking is how you coped with the children.

There you are, I've said it.

That shitty voice in my head is telling me, this situation might be hard. Just drink. They never noticed you drank before, just drink. Its like a slap in the face. I think my own personal Wolfie is trying to tell me that my children are a trigger for me.

Like I said, I'm not proud of saying it, but that's what the voice in my head has been saying all day.

When I was calmer earlier in the week, thinking of their arrival, I thought about whether or not to buy alcohol  for the weekend. Not much you understand, and not for me. More like a few ciders and beers in case they want some with the takeaway we've planned for tonight. Truth be told, it made me quite uncomfortable. I'm not sure I want to buy alcohol for anyone, let alone my kids. Even if they are 18 and 20. So I compromised and bought some alcohol free ciders and beers, some shandy and some wine, some lovely juices and some nice fizzy soft drinks, you know, the treaty kind.

I don't want to buy alcohol so the fridge is stocked with these treats and some of their favourite foods. So there's also no temptation for me either.

But, my hands are shaking and my nerves a bit on edge. The Wine Wolf inside my head is telling me that they didn't know you drank, so why not. Its a celebration weekend, so why not drink, just this weekend, start again on Monday. 

But, I know for me, if I drank now, I'd have a weekend full of paranoia and regret. And really what I want is a weekend of fun and love and sharing time together.

Drinking now will take that away from me.

I know these overwhelming, will it be OK, what if we don't get on, what do I do if she rejects me again, in my sober sanctuary. 

These I'm beginning to understand are irrational thoughts.

I'm sure we'll all be a bit nervous but we'll settle in.

Drinking won't make it better, it will leave me filled with regret, paranoia and remorse.

These thoughts will pass.

I guess its just letting folks, however much I love them, into my sober sanctuary, for the weekend, whilst its wonderful, is a bit scary.

As for Wolfie trying to convince me my kids and spending time with them is a trigger. Well, nice try but if the worse comes to the worst I'll have a long bath later and buy myself a ridiculus sober treat tomorrow. I'm anxious and a bit nervous, that's natural after things have been a bit tricky. And I have to stay sober tonight and enjoy it, enjoy their company and be sober. I've too much to lose.

Because tomorrow I'll wake up with my kids and husband and so much love, under my sober roof and celebrate (silently) 140 days sober.

Tonights mantra is: tomorrow I'm 140 days sober. Just relax and get the nerves out the way and enjoy the children here. I don't need to drink to do that despite what Wolfie tells me. What a maniac that bloody wolf is. '

Wednesday, 18 February 2015

My sober week

So here I am finally catching up on sober-life, I'm so sorry this is so late, but here we go and how I've missed you all, thank you so much for your kind comments so far I really appreciate it all. My sober week, last weekend, but the one past, I went to London and caught up with some other sober ladies and how exciting was that. We nattered for hours and whilst I was nervous, I was more excited than scared for once in my life. I've never been so happy to sit and honestly be me, ever before, not a bit of confusion as to how I am, and to talk about sober in my real life, was fabulous. As well as all the other things we talked about. And enjoyed a Beetini mocktail, out of a very swanky jam jar in a dry-restaurant called Redemption.
It was challenging being out of my comfort zone in a city I've only been to three times in my entire life. But, armed with a good bit of planning and some 'tube' training I managed quite nicely. I also took the time to visit a friend who was local and catch up with her and her husband, in person for once, rather than on the phone. So a great time. I'll write more about it, I'm sure later. My main message from all of this would be, if you get a chance to talk to sober people, DO IT. Meet up, talk, hug and exchange stories, its really helped to strengthen my resolve. And, so I went to London and looked after only me for the whole weekend, what a sober treat.
I landed home with a bang. So much going on but always time to take time for me, go and walk, think and contemplate. After my therapy session on Tuesday I found myself walking on the rocks of a beach, gently placing my foot from one to another, choosing my path, thinking about each step. It made me think of this sober journey and how each choice is like a stepping stone, not necessarily in a logical order, but working towards a better me. I like that. Of course I fell off a big rock, but hey what's life without a few falls.......makes us know we're alive. 
Wednesday I went to my group session and celebrated 130 days, a mixed week for many folks and whilst it was nice to share my successes it was also nice to share strategies for keeping sober, learning more about why urges strike and how to cope with them. Like waves, they come and go. And like my number, the sea washed it away too quickly. 
I'm grateful the next number I wrote was 131 the next day. But, it so easily could have been a new day one if I'm not careful and look after myself so I'm still really focussing on self care. From Wednesday the week sort of disappeared. I heard I got a new job and whilst they said start in March, I ended up starting the next day for an evening shift. Now, normally if I got told you need to work 3pm-10pm at an event, I'd be thinking of how to plan my wine drinking for after. This time I just thought, I'm available, I don't need to worry about driving or drinking or whatever. I'm just available. That's a huge change for me. Sober.
Ok so starting work at an evening event with burgers and hot cider beside me on my first day. Not so great. I mean the burgers smelt lovely and the hot cider all gingery and scrummy smelling. I found myself saying, and god knows why I did, I gave up drinking a while ago. feel so much better for it, so no thanks. 
And, yes I got offered it at work, yes folks got offered it who'd driven,  the drivers to be fair didnt' take any. Cursing the change in the law. But I told my first stranger, I don't drink. I worked at this event for three nights, by the fourth evening, the lady said, I'm so sorry I keep offerring, you but you don't drink do you.  No I said I don't. 
So I kept on doing my lines and writing plant labels, sober. It seems like a nice place to work with lots going on so I'm keen to do well and keep myself sober and happy. Nice to go to work without the obligatory painkillers in my lunch box, just in case.
Squeezing in walks and organising my work meals has been hard work this week, but I've remembered that if I don't look after me, it doesn't help me stay sober. And, there's so much to be sober for. Like a new job working with these cute flowers, like a better, happier me, I'm better sober. Spring is really on its way.
A friend saw my post about being offered buckfast (a tonic wine) on the train in December, so she sent me this card and a cute bag she found to say happy new job. Only in Scotland would Buckfast at Tiffany's mean something so different, and not unlikely! It made me laugh.
And last week of course, Valentines day arrived. No pink champagne here, just some flowers, a day of walking and lunches out.  The sun came out and it was very spring like, very warm and the beaches filled up a bit.
                But, we found a few empty spots. A day of hand holding and laughing with my husband. 
More chat about potentially leaving drinking to other people. A really close day which ended with a lovely supper of seafood and bread with a bottle of something cold and non-alcholic from the fridge, just because we can. And my poor fridge doesn't know what's hit it, such variety.
Have you noticed though, when the wine aisle loses its appeal, there's so much f**ing juice in the world and so much choice. I've been blind before I found sober. My current favourite is Beetroot, its gorgeous red hue luxuriously smears my glass with its glossy goodness. And its yummy too.

So I've a day of a bit of work, a bit of recovery SMART group and a few chores later. My sober week, this time has been a bit full, but its settling down. A new job to enjoy and a sober working girl. Who'd have thought it. Happy sober week folks.

Saturday, 14 February 2015

Day 133 - technical difficulties

Dear hearts, hope you're well. I'm sober but experiencing a few family issues and technological difficulties at the moment. Please bear with me! Hugs to all and hope to post properly over next couple days. We're all sort of grand, I'm grand, but needing to sort a few family things out, being sober certainly helps. Big style. Clear headed, focused, available for my kids 24/7 right now I'm eternally grateful for. On a quick escape to the beach this morning I drew myself. Stressed? Moi? Maybe! We will get through this wee rough patch, honest guv'.  Booze will not help, especially not today.

Hugs and happy weekend. 

Saturday, 7 February 2015

My sober week

So last week at this time, we were surrounded by bags in a bus stop in the french alps, this week, same bag, but I'm sitting curling my hair on a train to London about to go meet some new sober inspirational friends. Well what else to do on a long journey when you're excited and nervous, self care in the form if hair styling!? Why not. Never a dull moment in this sober life eh? And, here we are at the end of another sober week. It's been reflective and not too many challenges for once a quiet week. And after last week, and its challenges, it's been needed. 
Sometimes like this Azalea, I feel like I'm calmer, sometimes like I'm coming into my own. But I know whilst this is my state, I've still lots of life 'hangovers' from when I was drinking that are nagging at me, stopping my happy heart blossoming. So I know I need to take my sober head out of the sand and start to look at those things I'm still putting off, nagging like a hangover from my less sober life. I know they're blocks to be finding more contentment and perhaps, inner happiness.
Again as always we've (the very royal 'we' me snd the mutts) have been walking a lot this week, often alone, sometimes with friends. Instead of wine glasses we're sharing chocolate and tea.
It's different but somehow it suits us all more. Maybe, it's our new normal? Daytime activities without booze, walks instead of boozy suppers? There's definitely more chocolate and tea than booze, that's for sure these days, with the few friends I've started re-seeing after putting myself on house arrest in early sober. Although I'm mindful there are still friends I've not seen in real life yet as they are some of my harder core drinking chums. And, I'm still not sure how to deal with that, so I've not yet, aside a catch up on the phone and I ok with that for now. But it means I'm spending a lot of time walking or on my own, for now, that's ok. Aside muttering my way along beaches, hunting for driftwood and treasure, talking to myself or the dogs like a crazy lady. I found this rock.
I like heart shapes things and often try to see 'hearts' in rocks on the beach. I think I'm a bit obsessed with the idea of 'whole-heartedness' so I search for mine, everywhere. Even in my porridge.
And, I'm mindful of self care and porridge is perfect self care on these cold mornings. Breakfast is a new and big thing in my life, as are vitamins, fruit and looking after myself. I like this new routine. Breakfast before everything. Who knew fuelling your sober body early, instead of soaking up residual booze with caffeine and carbs and a dose of painkillers, who knew that made you feel better? Well, thankfully, I do now. Breakfast rocks. As does brain self care.
I did both therapy and group session this week. These were well needed sessions as I'd missed the last week.  Afterwards I then helped a sick friend by taking her dog on my sober stomp afterwards. So for a while we were three dogs, one sober girl. Being sober means I'm more up for listening to other folks, instead of drowning in my own head. I use to think I was a good friend but at the end of my drinking all I really cared about was me, my wine glass and how to keep filling it. All my head would listen to was my inner woes and paranoia, keeping me pretty isolated from other people and their stories. Keeping me isolated let wolfie (my wine monster voice) keep me safely locked up in my toxic booze blanket, in my boozy layer. Now, even just 4 months into sober, I'm more available, I actually listen, I'm more real, warts and all, I'm here. I like that.
It also means when my partner wants to take a day off for an impromptu adventure (in Scottish snow, which can be hard and icy) for once I can say yes, I'd love to, rather than looking for any excuse not to go. Not resenting the invasion into my drinking time. Not wondering if I can drag my sorry arse into an activity after two bottles of wine the night before. Or how I hide it all. It was all just so tiring, so much thinking about booze, how to get it, hide it or mitigate after it. It's fucking exhausting all that deceit, all the planning, all the excuses. When really a yes or no is all that is required now. Yes I'd like to go, no I don't. Life without booze is hard, but its so much simpler.

Yes I can drive at anytime, no notice required.

Yes I am available for you 24/7, just wake me if I'm sleeping, I'm here.

Yes, I'm trying my hardest (mostly),today I'm my best me. She's not great, but she's ok.

So I said yes to an impromptu day off and despite myself, my nerves around an activity day slightly out of my comfort zone, I was brave, I was engaged, I took things at my own pace and guess what, I had fun. I stopped when I'd had enough and that was ok. And I had a book so i sat in a cafe for a bit, really not as glamourous as the alps, but ok, despite the proximity of marginally hot macaroni pies, a scottish skiing delicacy (yuk) nested beside the sign for 'hot wine'. I just avoided both of those, as quite frankly, neither appeals. It was a good day and I bonded more with my partner rather than find excuses not to do things because I wanted to drink.

And I still fit to sneak a sober quiet walk in later. Win, win. 
So today I find myself up, at stupid-o-clock sitting at a train station, before 7am, about to head on a new sober adventure to meet some new sober friends. I hardly slept with excitement.(and nerves) I'm noticing I'm available more for  my life rather than for babysitting my corkscrew. And nursing my wine glass in my boozy layer. Booze takes away almost everything and keeps us isolated. It's a bastard.
So when it finally arrived, (after a cancellation and a lot of swearing about how I could have got up a bit later) I sat myself on a train, popped my packed breakfast beside me and thought about how excited I was (if a bit scared) to be having a sober adventure, early on a Saturday morning. And, how lucky I was to be going. How home would be OK for two days and how much I was grateful hit this past week.

Enjoy your weekend folks! Hugs! Hope you find some sober fun.

Thursday, 5 February 2015

Day 123, The cycle of change

So yesterday was day 123 according to Mrs D's fabulous site Living Sober. Its got a wee orange box which you can plonk you last drinking day in and as if by magic your sober day number appears. Its fabulous as are all the folks on there. Its a god send when feeling the need for inspiration, support or a good old moan, someone's always around with a smile and a kind word. She's also got  a fabby blog located here, which inspired her book. Which is the sober treat for getting to a whole 4 months without binging on wine. 

Rather timidly I've been counting the days for my sober. I've never really thought of it in any other way. But, 123 days on the counter also equates to 4 months exactly since I gave up getting hammered most nights. Its hardly something I can comprehend. And, at my SMART meeting yesterday, I found myself saying at our 'check in',  'I think I might be 4 months today', which was a real eyeopener for me. Four months. Blimey. We also looked at the cycle of change at the meeting yesterday and how we can find ourselves in steps through it.

Around the room we were all at different stages. I know I'm in step 5 at the moment, 'maintenance' but I was in the stages before that for a good 8-10 years of my life. Only managing one day or so at a time sober, relapsing, thinking about stopping, managing a day. Just trying harder each time, instead of trying different. Trying something different worked for me. Finding the sober community, reaching out, writing, treats, self care. Its amazing how trying harder, so hard for so long, really did not help me at all. I really thought it would, it never did and I got more and more depressed and anxious trying harder. So I 'm on stage 5 hoping that I don't go to relapse and stay on maintenance for as long as I need, maybe forever, but I'm canny about the fact that I could easily lapse. 

Someone at our group yesterday said they just wanted to try harder this week and several of us said, not harder, you're trying so hard but why not try something different, what can you do different?  So they're going to try 'treats' this week and see if they can treat themselves to a few days sober. Fingers crossed eh? I'm really rooting for them and I also scribbled down Mrs D's site for some online support if they fancy it.

So I left the meeting yesterday, went for a walk as I always do and wrote my number in the sand and thought about how close I am to being sober more often in this new house more than I have been drinking. Wouldn't that be something - a mainly, largely, happy sober house. That's made me think alot. My only goal in this sober stuff, is to find happy, stay sober, find happy. I have a pretty lovely life, but I've yet to find inner happy. Its my only goal, to be happy. I'm happier not drinking I know that for sure, but I'm not sing from the top of the hills happy inside. So I'm working towards anything in sober-lands that can  make me happy.

No pressure Ms Happy, but if you can rock along anytime soon and make my inner glow, well, erm, glow with Happy I'd be delighted.

Stay sober, find happy. Its my new mantra.

So back to the sober house, we moved in on 30th May last year, so by my reckoning I've had 127 days really drinking and getting more and more depressed and more scared at the rate I was drinking in this house. And, I'm on 123 days as of yesterday, so by Sunday I will have reached the same amount sober, as drunk in this house. For me that's a huge milestone. Its something I know which will make me happy, knowing I'm working at being sober in this house, that I deserve this life. A new milestone for me, a house where I've been sober more than I've been drunk.

And we all know we like celebrating milestones don't we? They're the best treats ever, milestones, whether its one day or a week, or 10 days or every 5 in between. Every day sober is a step to being more free. Every single day sober we're nicer to ourselves.

And, speaking of nice. Since I've started to take multi-vitamins and omega oils (thanks for the recommendations folks) my moods have also stopped being so severe. 

I'd like to tell you I'm less puffy and fresh skinned but I'd be fibbing. Until I convince myself to get some exercise in too, I'm unlikely to lose any weight either. But, I do feel better inside myself, I promise. I'm still quite anxious, but I think that's just me and I need to find ways to manage that.

Without the booze, obviously.

Have a great day! 

Tuesday, 3 February 2015

Day 122 - emerging

So hello! I'm back and all in one piece. I've taken some time yesterday to adjust to life back home and after I waved my friend off in the morning decided to dive straight into work and then straight into some garden time yesterday. What a long time its been since I had anytime on my own. A whole 13 days to be precise. Which, to have someone in your space drinking is, I have to say, just too much. But, I'm learning. And, I'd like to say thank you for your comments, I'll get to them as soon as I can, I got a bit humbled by your kind thoughts so thank you. I'm certainly going to reply, it may take a bit of time, but I know I'll get there. A bit like this winter aconite up here, just out in the garden, I feel like this is all very new and exciting.

So I thought I'd have some sober revelations about being away. I'm not sure that I do.   What I did find that it was very easy to slip back into making everyone else in my life comfortable, taking care of myself last. Its easy to take a back seat and care for others. I'm not saying that is wrong but it does lead to tiredness and overwhelm if you don't take time to look after you. Just saying. Its the old self care thing. Over and over, eh?

What I am finding is that my tolerance for bullshit and whining is zero. Well, that's not fair, its almost zero. And, my tolerance for folks being selfish and bossy is also nearing zero. Does that mean as a sober person my boundaries are changing and I've started to speak my mind a bit more? I'm not sure. I just know I have limited tolerance for stupidness, whining and moaning. Of which there was a fair amount on holiday. 

Here's what I did notice, I've no issue with folks around me drinking in public, in a cafe or a bar. In fact, I think it is for them to choose. What I do seem to have issue with is MY kind of drinking. The selfish kind. The kind that sees you nestling a glass like its your life-matter, like its your heart, except its pumping alcohol into your body. The one handed life that clutches a glass on the sofa and doesn't really move, aside to fill it. The selfish, 'me time' that lasts all evening and often well into the next day. That's my kind of drinking and its the kind that makes my skin crawl now. 

And, it makes me angry. I'm not sure why. Am I angry because I can't drink like that anymore? 

Its confusing. 

I genuinely don't mind when my friend drinks in the bar, I mind massively when she buys bottles and puts them in my fridge and sits nestling a wine glass in the house, in the crook of her arm or clutched in her hand. All night, until every last drop is drunk. 

Do I miss it, I'm not sure. I certainly don't miss how much it messed up my head each day for two hours of 'brain shut down'. But, man it makes me angry.

Talk about sending out mixed messages to my friend. Yes, I don't mind if you drink in a bar, but not in my house, not on my sofa and not in my space. 

I guess I think bar/pub drinking is a bit more restricted and responsible? Which of course isn't true. But, its just the drinking in the house bit that really twangs my buttons.

I guess in some way I'm jealous that I can't drink like that anymore. Or is it that I know how selfish it is? Who knows. Or maybe I'm just angry. Who knows.

So I'm home now, I've sent the chums home, and waved them off til March (hopefully) and survived. I'm beginning to see how much time is wasted post-drinking, and excuse the pun, but I've no time for it.  Time is precious and I don't want my time wasted by it. I'm also seeing how selfish 'drinkers' can be. And, how much its needed, even if they don't think they have a problem. But, if its the first thing they buy in the supermarket when they arrive, perhaps they're not as 'normal' as they think they are.

Its what I use to do. Before any other decisions were made, make sure you know where your wine is coming from. Where you'll get the next lot. Its very nice not to be under that incessant need. I think I'm looking forward to spring emerging, maybe there will be more surprising changes too for me.


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.