Day 110 - paranoia and gratitude

I wrote my number yesterday. 110 days without booze. Go me a quiet celebration here, no one really still understands why I've stopped for a while, no one saw my drinking as a problem. I did. Yesterday, I'd left early for a meeting in a local garden. Greeted by the lady of these lands and a very boisterous Border Terrier, I found my handshake to be good and strong and my mind to be focused. Is this the 'clear head' that they talk about in these here sober lands? It was an interesting meeting and for me, in search of some consultancy work, or lets face it just some 'work', I found my nerves around my appearance, my usual hungover self, my self flagellation at drinking the night before something big like this were all gone. Because, now, I don't drink. No hangover, no guilt. The lack of paranoia in my life is a positive forwards step. I strode into my life for once, instead of sort of sidling in wishing I fitted in. Paranoia is crippling. If Wolfie had a friend he would be called Paranoia.

Its funny how paranoia debilitates our very core isn't it?  If the only thing I can currently take from not drinking is the lack of paranoia, I'll have a gallon of it, a gallon of sober please, no paranoia required. How many wasted days, hours, weeks, months, years I've lost to paranoia and its bedfellow self-loathing. Well no more. No more I tell you. 

So an interesting start to my day. Instead of doing my normal rush home and get myself back into my life, I took time to walk the dogs, write my number, wrap it in a scarf (why not) and then, quite uncharacteristically go for a coffee and have a wee bite to eat by myself. A sober treat I told myself. So off I trotted to the local cafe in our university town, I paid my parking for an hour and I took time for myself to reflect on the meeting and reflect about where I am. A couple with their daughter at school here sat in the next booth. Their family camaraderie clear to see. I do miss my family. Whilst an empty nest is the sign of a productive parenting adventure, the loss still stings. I reflected on my time with my daughter this week, the same age as this girl.

I did catch up with my daughter this week after my SMART meeting. Since leaving home our relationship has been a little strained. I can see she's creating her new self, new boundaries are erected. Initially my paranoia led me to thinking, I'm a bad parent, she doesn't want to spend time with me because I drink/drank. So I drank more and more, until I needed to really think and stop my spiral of despair. I found sober. I found you all. The joy that's given me. The longer I got sober, the more reflective of our family relationship I become. It also helps to have a therapist who's happy to talk things through with. So whilst these new boundaries are erected with my daughter, many of which I grudgingly agree with communication between us has been sparse and often difficult. Its perplexed and upset me. 

My paranoid drinking self has told me, my wolfie has told me I'm a bad parent. I drank, what did I expect when she left? She's finally free of me. Her drunken mother. That stings. My paranoid self has told me lots of bullshit to be fair. But the new sober head is slightly less critical and more analytical, if of course you can apply analytical thinking to teenage girls newly embarked at university. But, I have. I get the new boundaries, they feel new right now but I know they will become familiar. Whilst I moved 300 miles to be nearer my children at university and to join my husband finally, that was my choice.  I might tell myself the key part of this is 'move nearer the children and also be near my husband', my children probably see this more as 'Mum's finally settled in with her husband, we're off the clock, woo hoo!'. 

Now, after much snot and tears and tantrums on my own part, I know I'm a good parent. I've had my moments but overall I'm a good parent. I worked hard at it. Snivelling into my hankie at my last session I talked about the pain I'd experienced during the last few years of my daughters time at home. How my drinking became more secret and my mood, difficult. It was a hard time for me and the family as we adjusted to life and sometimes the changes it can throw at you. I've always blamed my drinking for her distance during this last time at home. Maybe it was, something I'll never know. The paranoia runs deep here. And, it crippled me to stop me asking for help. What if they take my kids, no help for you Daisy. You're alone.

Fast forward to sitting having tea in a student flat in the city. My daughter jovially unpacking the groceries I've brought along. She's still oohing and ahhing at the large jar of chocolate spread in the bag. She's still half way between childhood and woman hood. Its a curiously nice thing to witness. We chat about nonsense mainly. Flatmates come in and out as we talk. Stories of silliness and boozy student capers buzz about in the air. We're alone again for a while. I notice the Vodka and the Rum on the windowsill. Half empty. Giggles of UV paint clubs and drinking spill out of her wee lips. I worry, does she have my addictive pattern inside of her? My paranoia regarding my own drinking is high in my throat.

'You're careful aren't you, with this stuff? You look after each other? You know I worry?' the words are out before I have time to stop my 'mothering'. Rolling eyes and smiling greets me. 'God Mum, we're hardly a hard core flat on the drinking front, but yes we look after each other'. The conversation drifts off into clubs and silliness. Its interesting as a parent seeing this new version of my own flesh and blood. Confident, sassy, bold and yet as she packs her 'tea' up for evening lectures, she's clearly looking after herself. It makes me smile. She turns and says 'I can't imagine you at university, out and being silly, you're so serious and as for the drinking.' 

My heart stops, as it always does, when any mention of my name and drinking is aired. What do you mean, I sat and think when she leaves that statement there. 

For once, being 110 days sober I'm not sitting thinking, can she smell the wine on me? Did I message her something stupid last night? Am I OK? For once I'm totally in the moment armed with a clear brain and no paranoia. What did she mean? Maybe its time to tell her I'm sober now. Maybe I'm strong enough to share this with her. That the past, is exactly it, in the past.

I begin to think of the things to speak, words forming in my mouth. She finishes her sentence 'as for the drinking, you'd never cope.'.  Excuse me? I'd never cope?  The conversation takes a different turn to the one I thought it would. My paranoia sits expressionless, beside me as my daughter regales to me how rubbish a family we were at drinking. 'I mean, I've never even seen you drunk, well maybe a glass of wine now and then. But I've never seen you drunk, not even at your wedding and plenty other people were'. The words she leaves off here is 'you're such a square'. Its true I didn't drink at my wedding, I mean in public, drinking, erm no thank you. I never drank in public after I really got into my drinking. But I'd never thought that really, they hadn't noticed my drinking. I'd hoped for sure that they didn't know, but I thought they must know.

Never seen me drunk. Never seen me drinking but a glass of wine, now and then. Surely this can't be true. But, I know that my son says the same. When I told him I'd given up wine for a bit he 'Pfft'.

In my face, he 'PFFT' me. 'Its hardly like you drink, now, is it?'  So they both know I'm off the wine for a bit.

Out of the mouths of babes. My paranoia still lurks inside me, I knew how much I was drinking. I hid it from most of my life, but it was there. My constant.

What I know I need to do is forgive myself for the deceit and the self-loathing and start afresh. Somehow, a silly conversation about not very much, at a time when I was ready to open up and say sorry for it all, sorry for all the deceit, I'm faced with a different reality. A nicer one. Maybe its no ones business that I use to drink. But, I've been so paranoid that my drinking has deeply affected my children and our relationship that it stifles me and blurs my thoughts constantly. Its been a constant, alcohol in my parenting life, but I hope its effects have been limited. I truly do.

I know its affected the way I act around people so to say its had no impact on their lives would be a lie. But, sitting in the student flat, I'm calmer now, I'm sober now. She didn't see my drinking and I don't do that any more, so maybe I do need to take heed and move on myself. Paranoia created by alcohol consumption, is not kind. It affects your self-worth and reactions in relationships. I see that so clearly now. And, I'm grateful that (whilst its deceitful), my family really didn't notice my drinking. I know I shouldn't be as grateful as I am, but I am truly grateful. 

I look at this beautiful 18 year old in front of me, blossoming. And, thoughts of her 'square mother', lol, I can deal with being a square, for sure.  But when I was young, I'll tell you........I did my share of partying. I had fun young lady. No really I did. For a while, so be careful.

It only got no fun when the drinking turned all consuming, when it turned inwardly and became secretive. And, when wolfie arrived with his veracious appetite and his paranoid pills.

We hug, she goes to class, tea in one hand, packed meal in another. Speak soon, the words are off my lips a bit lighter. I'm beginning to see the changes in both of us.  They're not as bad as feared. I'm calmer, more whole-hearted, she's blossoming. Its amazing what happens when you take Wolfie and paranoia out of the equation.

Today's motto is to be kind to myself. What's yours?

Day 72 - sober carbon footprint

'Experts estimate that a 750ml bottle of wine at 190g CO2 per glass equates roughly to the carbon emissions released by a three-mile car journey.' So says the Guardian please remember other calculations are available, some equate it to a five mile car journey.

Here's when I get my fingers and toes out to work out 72 days sober average 1 bottle wine a night (conservative), equivalent to saving carbon 1984 miles or 82,080 g  or 82 kg CO2 

So I could have driven nearly 2000 miles instead of drink wine and be in the same place carbon wise but think of the adventures........

I've saved the equivalent green house gas emissions of 0.29 tonnes of landfill. Crikey

Or if I'd planted 21 wee trees I'd have saved the same amount of carbon in ten years.

So by NOT drinking I'm officially greener than when I started. I'm always keen to see interesting ways in which behaviour change effects things like carbon, cos, well, I'm weird like that. [I'm a secret scientist, which is a bit like secret santa, but not nearly so cool.]

So NOT drinking is helping me and our planet. Goes off to shine green tree huggers badge.

Hug yourself and a tree, being sober really does save the planet.

That's made me smile today. Then again I've always been a tree hugger.

PS Thank you for all your kind comments yesterday. For me this is a huge journey and sharing my feelings even the darker ones is essential for me to learn to move past the wine. Lucy recommended I looked to the serenity prayer and I did and I found comfort in it. So thank you all, without expression, I'd be drowning myself in an endless vat of despair called merlot.

Day 36 - The attack of the wine-snatchers

Firstly thanks so much for popping by, you really do make a difference, whilst I'm use to speaking to an empty room. Its always nice to know someone's around, reading. Even if you're thinking, just get on with it lady!

So part of this sober malarkey I'm learning seems to be that you do your own life, but just 'slightly' differently to keep yourself off the booze. So as part of this I've been having SO MANY sober baths. Like a billion. OK, maybe possibly around once a day I dive into the bath. Usually around wine-o-clock. The bath is a safe place for me, I never have understood drinking in the bath. I never have. Mind you I've never understood bathe-ing in the evenings, never, as it use to interfere with my wine time. Nothing interferes with wine-time.

Normally (and I'm reminding myself that 'sober' isn't normal for me) I hot foot it to the wine early evening and switch off the rest of my life. And, after that first glass, nothing can wrench my hand off the glass or my focus from the bottle, so my evenings never involved having a bath. Mostly, it didn't involved getting undressed either, as I slumped into the sofa and snoozed my life away every night. So I was always a 'shower in the morning' with a hangover kinda gal. I needed to be, I needed to mask the smell of wine I guess without a morning shower I might have reeked of Merlot. 

Anyway that was the old routine and this bathing in the evening thing, is the new SOBER routine. So each night off I pop with my scrubby, my favourite candle and I just relax. I wait out the wine-singing that overcomes my lugs. I fill them full of soap and I rest and I scrub. Let me tell you I'm like a shiny wee pin at the moment.  I don't think I've ever been so clean, or my hair so well looked after. I've long hair so a bath is also a 'barrier' to leaving the house and buying wine, I don't own a hairdryer. A soggy mop of hair in the dreich Scottish climate isn't fun to go out with, even for wine.

Now, let me tell you, I'll get back to the point, I'm naturally chubby, I'm a wee thing too. But, when did the wine-snatchers come along and steal my body? Even in flickery-romantic-ambient candle light glow of my sober bath, there's no denying I'm a paunchy wee thing now. I look, if I'm honest 4-5 months pregnant. I took a test, I'm not. No amount of sucking my stomach in helped. The scales revealed an extra 2 stone from my 'normal' weight. They say you put on weight when you get older, but this is belly-booze-fat my middle has expanded. And some. I'm almost as wide as I am tall now. Like, really. I fear for doorways.

My bottom lip (on my face, not the lip of my ever increasing arse) started to wobble. I'm' crying a lot at the moment, I'm getting use to that. But, when did I stop caring about me? At what point did I sit on that sofa drinking wine, stuffing snacks in to prepare for the next glassful, when did I just say 'Fuck it, I don't care'.  When did I let the wine-snatchers take so much from my daily life, and give me back a sore head and oodles of belly flubber?

I hate the wine-snatchers, they stole my money, my time and I've finally notice, my body and left me with a booze-belly for good measure. I'm a natural 'apple' shape, right now I look like an overstuffed baked apple, bursting out the sides. My BMI is 26.8, last year is was 23.7 the year before less than that. I'm slowly expanding. I'd heard that wine puts the beef on, but man, its quick. Or maybe it just seems quick as I drank my days away.

I guess, changing the routine has helped to open my eyes, as well as keeping me off the booze. I'm grateful for that and all the folks who suggested I shook things up.

Fear not dear hearts, I'm not about to start a crash diet and put myself under any more stress than I can handle at the moment. I'm taking each day as I can, I know its all I can do. But, I think its about time I started to look after myself a bit better. Somewhere down the bottle I lost sight of myself and let the wine-snatchers take so much more than just my time and money. As long as I didn't stink of booze in the mornings at work I never use to care. I never cared about me, never really have for as long as I can remember.

If I learn anything about being sober, its that I need to take care of me. That's my job.

That one came as a bit of a shock. As did the calories in wine (600-750 a bottle)  and beer. Yikes.

I need to take care of me. I need to remember that. Only my sober head hears that. The wine-snatchers can bugger off, I need my body back.

And, for today my sober day....

Sober girl - long walk with the dogs on the beach, no hangover. I designed my garden today.
Sober wife - we had a 'date' on Friday night. We went to the cinema, no pouting from me for my routine being disrupted. Food after, no wine, no need for it. Nice.
Sober mum - proof read an assessment for the man-child and arranged to drop daughters car off. I'm engaged.

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.

Day 34 - Bottle of wine a nighter's club

I know a lot of people like me. In fact, most of the women I know are like me. The bottle-of-wine-a-night'ers. Grab a bottle when on the way home from work, cos, you know wine doesn't KEEP. Open it as take your jacket off, grab a glass pour some wine and then on with the dinner. I cook most days, mostly from scratch its nutritious for my family to eat heathly food around the table, or sometimes if we're all naughty in front of the TV. But, that's a treat. I look after my family. I always did. Then I open the wine and I look after me. By the way if we've company there's one bottle for me, one for the guests (cos of course we're not alkies) and hopefully they'll bring some. But MY secret wine, stays a secret. Its my medicine, my coping mechanism they aint getting that.

When the kids were little they got in a bit earlier, we did homework, had an early dinner and then out came the wine, sometimes before bath time, mostly after. Sometimes before bed-time, mostly after. They got older, sometimes I drank in front of them but not often. But, a glass or two of wine after dinner and watching some TV, at home, or at a friends house, that's pretty normal right? A bottle or so would always disappear.

I like many of my friends drank every day. Its only wine right? Its what everyone I know does, we drink wine. When I met my (third) husband, he was surprised at the 'in the house' drinking. Its not part of his social culture, yup he could drink 10 pints in the pub, but drink at home, never. I was wondering if it was a 'lady' thing, I'm not trying to be sexist, just curious. I remember I told him, all my friends do to, if we didn't drink at home, where on earth would we, kids need so much, friends to see, practices, football club, netball club, cello lessons, concerts, PTA, guides, brownies, band practice. You name it, we do it. We bake, we sew, we nurture, we grow food, we huff and puff on bikes around the park and that's often after a full days work. So later on when the little darlings have been tucked up in their pj's we pull out the chardonnay and chink-chink ourselves for getting through another day.

I tell you what this being modern parent is fab, don't get me wrong but sometimes its bloody exhausting and draining. Does all this charging about like a lunatic do much for our kids. Well both of mine are shuffled off to university as 'rounded' human beings. Would that have been any different without all the clubs/ferrying-to-and-fro/playdates/home cooked meals? Or would they have been any different if I didn't drink?

Maybe who knows, I can't know now. Don't get me wrong I'm not moaning I love my kids, they were planned and I'm there for them whatever the next adventure whether its a punk band or late night pick ups, in fact so much I even stayed off wine the night that the Harry Potter last book was released to go and join the queues and get it at midnight. (and yes of course I drank after, but I stayed off the wine til gone midnight goddamit, I'm that good a parent, I even took my pal and her kids too....) But, even with parenting for Scotland, as many of my chums do, do we just expect too much of ourselves? Is that the bottom line.

Was it as hard for our own mothers? We never had alcohol in the house when we were growing up, just wasnt' part of the culture, you went to the local 'social' club when you wanted a drink and that was at the weekends.

Of course loads has been written about 'mothers little helper' in the 60-70's when Valium was one of the most prescribed drugs for women to cope with the pressures of family life. 

Different era, different drug? 

Then again maybe we didn't have booze in the house cos my father was an alcoholic? I don't think I ever saw my Mum drink until she got re-married. She still doesn't have alcohol in the house.

A while back, my brother came up to stay for a while. My family are serious coffee heads they drink around 7-10 cups a day, two sugars and milk. When he came to stay I was still  in my 'normal' drinking phase. It surprised him I drank in the evening at home. It surprised him that I drank every day and then got up and did the whole kid/school/work/life thing. He said he'd never hack it. 

I told him he was a wimp, as you do, he's my little brother. All my friends do it, its just normal I told him. Its the first time I remember thinking, hmm, I don't want him to see my drinking and disapprove, I started drinking my wine from a tea mug. You know, just so I'd look like I was a bit more normal when he was about. I also started buying only one bottle, I was moderating, or at least my version of it and boy did that make me grumpy. I always wanted more. 

In reality most of my RL friends drink, many as much as me, a few maybe only at the weekends, I'm not in their houses, I don't see their non-social lives. I told a drugs/alcohol counsel team today I drank at least a bottle of wine a day, sometimes two, for most of the past 20 years (3 years off for kids I guess). She seemed surprised, she didn't judge. I told her its just what all my friends did. It was our 'off switch', our coping strategy. It was just normal. Or maybe I just surrounded myself more with folks with a decently stocked wine shelf in the fridge?

Seemingly there's a trend in women in their forties which Lucy at 'A hangover free life' has talked about today. Its an interesting read.  The initial report author cites 'laddette' behaviour increased drinking in early twenties/thirties as a potential cause of the trend in women. I guess it might be that but is part of it also the 'mothers little helper' syndrome, pressured female lives, bringing in the bacon and cooking a delicious meal for it for the family between full on play-dates/meetings/brain expansion of our kids through modern activities?

I haven't a clue, with or without kids would I have drunk, who can tell. I just know that whether I drink or not, whether my friends do or not. I just know when it comes to alcohol and the limited dalliance I've had with Vallium, I have a broken off switch. I just don't know when to stop.

As to Lucy's question - is the rise in drunk driving incidents or increased positive breath tests  for women in the UK due to increased tolerance to drink? Most women talked to drank at home or in their friends homes. Just like me. Just like my friends. Like Lucy I've never been stopped for drunk driving, have I been over limit in the early mornings, probably. 

Lucy  says. 'Are these women over the limit because they have a higher tolerance to booze as they have been drinking for a larger part of their adult life and therefore underestimate the amount they are drinking because they don’t feel drunk therefore putting them over?'

I think probably. What do you think? Why not pop over and tell her? One of the strangest things I remember from my pal being here recently is that she had around 12 units (of course I was counting I wanted to drink too but couldn't) and she seemed so normal. She drove home the next day 300 miles. Was she over the limit? She didn't leave til later, she never does leave early, maybe she wasn't by the time she left. I'm not judging at all, just wonder how normal 12 unit a day became in my body/life.

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.