The Hunger

It's still there like a sallow wolf, circling my existence. And, with it, the hunger. I'd hoped its clawing tones might leave my ears soon, but its still here. The hunger. I rest, nestled in the safety of the car, speeding through the dark autumnal night air. The trees becoming bare, stark whispers of winter's coming, whilst all around, in this darkness, the hunger surrounds me. 

Where can we buy it? 

When can we drink it? 

When will we be free to envelope ourselves in its liquid release?
Have some at the party? No? Have some ready for after........in private, as a prize for staying sober all night.

The hunger is still here, prickling in my mind, drizzling, cold, full of dread. I'm trying not to listen. But, its here.

And, no more so than this weekend, we're heading to a party, I'm unconfident, I'm out of my comfort zone. My thoughts are preoccupied with the selfish calls of my wine wolf. I'm not sure why. I'm within the safety of my husbands reach, aside the nip of the night air, I'm warm and yet it doesn't stop. This hunger, so seeping, it feels like its dragging my feet downwards into the mist. A few days have passed without the cruel call of this beast. Not tonight. Tonight, I feel its breath on my naked neck. I pull my scarf tighter.

We arrive at the party laden with food and drinks, kisses for the hosts, invited into their home. A little late, but no shame in that. Our plate put on the already laden table. I bring homemade sushi, keeping my fingers and my mind busy earlier. The atmosphere is warm and inviting. The tinkle of glasses, the long elegant stems of sparkling bubbles whisper my name. The wolf is near here, I settle myself at the furthest corner of his den. I find my own corner.

I eat well, I refill my plate and my glass myself. I'm mindful of the chatter around me and engage in conversations as the wolf circles round the room, then back to his layer. Our eyes meet. He's clever this one, but I'm ready. I keep my guard, recharge my glass myself. I eat some more. The hunger abates for a while.

He's clever this one, a malt whisky is let out of its cage. The honey coloured liquid dancing in the crystal glasses, the vapour sneaks around the room like a cheeky imp, smokey and heathery. An old friend, glinting in the half light. The wolf comes to me, calling my name he seeps from the glass, 'You're hungry' he whispers. I know. I'm busy. I need to escape.

I walk through to the kitchen, brandishing a cloth I polish the plates. Wiping each dripping plate until its clean and dry. Over and over, I ignore the wolf.  The laughter gets louder, the music thumping. Its a quarter to ten. Fifteen more minutes. until its safe. Finally time to go.

We leave early, hearty goodbyes, we leave the party in full throws. Wolfie in full voice. Tired we slip through misty streets, all the shops closed. The Wolf's work is done for the day out here. He's locked in houses throughout the lands, keeping his lair warm for those who don't know of his cruel ways.

I relax in the car. The wolf behind me, shops closed, nowhere left to buy wine on the way home. I patiently bide my time.  The hunger is still with me, sadly. This hunger for wine, for drinking, for booze is still here. Some days it shouts more than it should a fierce wolf. Some day's its quieter, more like a mouse. I don't miss hearing it, I hate its clawing calls, I just wish it would abate, for now.

So the hunger is still so fierce. I'm glad its not here howling, the whole time, but he's near and he's watching for me to be weak.

I pull my scarf tighter, I hold my husbands hand. I'm still sober. The hunger didn't get me tonight. I'm using skills learned from you all to feed myself, distract myself, distance myself, keep busy. Arrive late, and leave early. My first proper social gathering of friends, a house party. I still (stupidly) have this hunger for alcohol. I'm thankful of the skills I've newly learnt to sidestep the wolf and the hunger.

I awake today, reflective. I'm not paranoid, wondering how much I drank or what I said. I'm just reflective that after this short time, I'm able to hide from my wolf. My old familiar.

This is new. Its hard, but its new. 57 days, newly sober. I'm alive. And I'm watchful of the wolf I know circling around, watching from afar, waiting for me to stumble.

For your help, your strategies, your advice. 

I thank you. 

I'm grateful I'm not alone with him. 

Or with the hunger.

Day 55 - Vulnerability and the wholehearted

Hope you're well today? Well, I was at a local 'writing group' last night, free class, lots of aspiring writers and little old me. Lots of angst when I go to these as I don't really feel like I belong. I write, sure, but normally its non-fiction. So I'm always a little out of my comfort zone.  Its all 'premises and adjectives'. Fuck knows what they mean. Personally I just write 'stuff'. Its all stuff. I don't really care how it tumbles out, as long as it gets out of my brain. My reward for going use to be a big fat bottle of wine right after the class finished. Not last night.

I like going as these are people I'd normally have nothing in common with. Its a bit out of my comfort zone, so that's good for me I think. Its free, free is good. But, I feel quite vulnerable when I'm there. I'm dyslexic, diagnosed late, I struggle to read out loud and sentence structure is to me, something that tumbles out like a drunken spider. But, I do OK. Thus far, I've managed. So the idea of me at a writing group makes me somehow smile, its a bit ironic. I struggle so with words. It makes me feel very vulnerable. We agree though, we all like words. They  like their words to be well thought and meaningful. I'm just fucking grateful mine end up on a page. Its why I blog, no angst here about how the words/thoughts are, they just need out of my head. And, I'm so grateful that you'll let me write them. 

I've been on a bit of a vulnerable journey this week, therapy, addicts group session, sharing time with some folks I don't' know so well, sharing time with folks which I know well but are changing, talking more with my husband. Its been quite a vulnerable week, all in all.

Folks at my addict group session were talking beforehand, as I snuck in, car keys in hand, sober treats in the car in a recycled bag, just blown in from Sainsbury's.  I feel as if I get a few 'what are YOU doing here looks'. I'm sure I don't but I don't yet feel very connected in my group and for a rule I always feel like an outsider, so that's me not them. I guess that the 'connections' here, will come in time, I'm new to this and need to give it a chance. But I'm asked to read the opening statement. Now, I really don't read well out loud, like really, I always have. Don't get me wrong, I read ferociously, but that's half the issue my eyes are furlongs away from my mouth when I'm reading. I stumble, I retrace, I fall, I try again. Words dance about the pages and I stumble and falter but eventually sounding like a slow five year old standing in front of the teacher I get there. Eventually. Someone meets my eyes and smiles in a kind of well done kind of way. Well they know that secret now, they know that shame, how much worse can the rest of it be? I relax. Its a good meeting.

Today a friend sent me a link about a TED talk she'd heard recently by Brene Brown (link below). I think its worth a share here. It certainly made me think. She also recommended her book, (photo at top.)

She (Ms Brown) talks about worth v. worthiness, she talks about shame, of being loved and of fear and unconnection.

She studied the difference between those who feel connection and love and tried to understand what lead to their sense of worthiness. The key to this seems to be the sense that its OK to be vulnerable, in fact without vulnerability we may struggle to find true happiness/love/worthiness.

Self love, self worth, whole-heartedness. I'm not sure I have any of that. I'm not sure I want vulnerable, but it seems that without it real connections can't really be made. Compassion to ourselves before others, help, I'm scared.

Vulnerability = beautiful according to Brene. Scares the shit out of me being vulnerable. No siree no vulnerability for me.

But, she suggests we don't generally embrace vulnerability as a society, generally we numb it.

we numb vulnerability

The minute the word NUMB was mentioned alarm bells started in my head. Oh NUMB, I like NUMB, it makes me feel safer, I hide. No feelings please. Much safer, nothing to see here.

But the numbing agents (credit, addictions, food, medication) bite back. 

No feelings means no feelings, no joy, no happiness, no scardeycatpants, no pain, short term fixes leading largely to nothing except shame. And, shame keeps us isolated.

We all know how Wolfie likes shame and isolation.

So that's where I'm at today. Thinking that the very act of saying, I think I have an alcohol problem. Of reaching out, of speaking of connecting, I'm putting my vulnerability on a platter with a side of hope.

With small changes like that, there's always hope.

And with connections there's always friendship and experience.

A sense of belonging.

And gratitude.

And love.

The first steps I guess are showing vulnerability, asking for help, hearing a fellow voice, knowing we're not alone.

For that, I thank you all. And, if you're reading this, feeling alone. Please know that you're not. Reach out.

Words make me feel vulnerable, but without them, scattered over a page, reaching out, spidery sentences, shit grammar and no care for the structure, without them, no one would read. Better that they're out and published, than in and fraughtly stuck in eternal 'edit'. So forgive my tumbled words, like me they're clumsy, but they mean well.

I'll leave you with that TED talk. If you can watch, please try. Maybe its the researcher in her that I like. My inner pragmatist wants everything fixed, a bit like Ms Brown.

Brené Brown: The power of vulnerability (20 mins, make a cuppa and watch)

Brené Brown studies human connection — our ability to empathize, belong, love. In a poignant, funny talk, she shares a deep insight from her research, one that sent her on a personal quest to know herself as well as to understand humanity. A talk to share.

Sober views tomorrow, a week in pics, I'm quite excited about that. Have a great day.

Day 46 - Why do I need an excuse for not drinking?

Hey how are you all this fine evening?

Warning, sober mini rant alert. [edited out - it just got boring in my head, its out know].

My friend today is working out excuses for me not drinking at the moment (again). Its really kind of her, but she was tying herself up in knots trying to fathom out a 'plan for me not drinking'. She's now on a mission. Its ALL we talk about. Xmas coming up, her coming to stay and what we (we) will tell people about my not drinking.

Her funniest one is we'll just pretend you're drinking, no one needs to know.

No, really I'm fine with 'I'm not drinking right now'.

Its no one else's business.

End of moaned out edit.

:D

Day 37 The sober alpacas

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.

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 33 - Handle with care

So today, full of those vitamins and a decent sober nights kip, I headed off into the local town to do some volunteering. I'd say I bounced but you know, I'd not want to scare you. Just think about tigger. That's me in my head and today, I was just as bouncy.

My joy and bounciness didn't last long, and I don't know why this affected me so much BUT I got the lady who runs the classes I was helping at wrong, I called her by the wrong name. 

Not once, but twice. I'm crap with faces/names, I muddle things up, I'm dyslexic, its no biggie unfortunately, its just me. Mostly I do OK, sometimes I struggle, especially in social situations. I'm one of those terminally awkward academic types, great with books and plants, crap with other humans. But, I try like I did today, I tried to be normal and seek the company of other humans.

The second time I got her name wrong, she actually shouted at me whilst I was trying to set up some IT for a presentation. Shouted, or rather bellowed at me, like I'm five or something. I just told her that shouting at me wasnt going to help me remember it any better, welled up, bit my lip and put my head down. I made excuses and went to the bathroom.

Now I'm no shrinking violet. The oldest of four and a tomboy at heart. I've worked in an exclusively male dominated environment and held my own. And I'm hiding in the bathroom crying because someone shouted at me. As it turns out the lady was very short with a few folks, I guess she was stressed and no none of us got an apology. Being British, I nearly wrote a strongly worded email, but thought better of it. She's a nervy type and clearly was feeling stressed, so probably didn't really mean to shout! However if that had been one of the guys at my work, he'd have got an earful normally and told to shove his projector where the sun doesn't shine.

I'm not sure if its the sober-ness (is this a word??)  letting out all kinds of weird energy. Or I've lost my shield of steel. Yeah, I'm angry but tearful angry, not shake a fist angry. I'm not working at the moment, I've recently moved and given up my job to move, so I guess maybe its just that. I use to work with lots of volunteers with my job. They got my name wrong, so what I'd make a joke. People volunteering do for many different reasons and lots of them are around confidence. 

As for the lady, I could see she was stressed but part of me wanted to say. You don't know me. You don't know how hard it is for me to walk in here today. I'm sober today, I'm here. This is a big deal for me. I'm trying to get better. You don't know me, you don't know my issues, how can you. I forgot your name and I'm sorry for that but please don't shout at me. Have you any idea how hard it is for me to get dressed and leave the house right now? No, how can you. I'm trying to get better. I'm trying to get to the point where I can think about recovering from this in the future. Please don't shout at me.

For now, whilst a silly incident, I think I need some tape across me which says 'Handle with Care' and maybe for folks to wear name badges. I might need to put labels and big marker pens in my sober tool box........

Mind you, crying not drinking, maybe that's a good sign? But, the crying is that normal?

PS the class was about gingers (the plant, not my hair colour) and was from a guy who'd I'd been a vague colleague of before, he remembered me and that was nice. Asked what I was working on at the moment, erm, just started a new research project, I told him, am working from home.

That's not a lie exactly. Better than saying, erm, I'm a bit broken right now but I'm researching lots of ways to get mended.

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 32 - The lost girl.

My new journey, my new home.

Good morning to you all. Its a sunny one here at the wee cottage and if I squint I swear I can see sunshine on the other side of the water which means its smiling on my daughter too in the city at uni. So I'm so SLEEP HUNGOVER today, we went to a gig last night in the city near my son. Meeting up from all over the place, this wee family was for one night only all in Glasgow for a few hours. Whilst the co-ordination felt like something NATO would be proud of I have to tell you doing that kind of get here for then and meet up there and then we'll see you there, was better hangover free. Much better. And seeing them, a huge sober treat.

OK so I'm not much of a public drinker, infact that's the anti-of my drinking. My drinking is very private. So being out in itself at a gig sober isn't a biggie for me, I've always lived rurally and driving is part of being out and about. But you know what struck me aside the fact that whilst I love the fact that my kids and my new husband have the same music tastes (loud, punk, political, for the main angry music) this is no surprise I guess as they all grew up with him and I appreciate their passion for it. Its really not for me. I'm not that cool, I just hang with cool folks.

What I didn't have though was that resentment at having to be out and not in at home drinking. Normally I'd be counting the time down and wondering when we got home how much I could drink. As it was, it was 2.15 am when we got in, and yes I'd have drunk at that time to 'destress' from the drive. I would have justified it as a head switch off.

Now the other thing that struck me aside the sign saying 'we now serve 2 pint tumblers' (2 pints, FFS!) was that I enjoyed being out of my drinking lair. OK, so not really my music taste, well not all of it, I'm more old school punk myself, yes I'm that old. But, the thought struck me. This is fun. I could go to gigs. Why don't I do that more. 

Doh, cos you're home suckling a bottle of chardonnay, normally in your cosy lair.

It also struck me that I can't remember when I could really last be arsed listening to music or finding stuff I enjoyed. Was that the wine too, did it rob the music from my ears? Was that Wolfie telling me, its too loud, you don't like it. You like home, you like the fire on, you like a nice glass of wine. That's your perfect evening. Wolfie tells it like it is. I'm a home buddy, I'm a parent, I'm the homemaker, I stay home, I hide in my liar protecting my family.

Well, is it, is he true? I use to dance til 4am. I use to sing my lungs out in the car. I use to find so much and so many things to DO. Be at home, all the time, me, NEVER. 

Now, lately (is the past 15 years or so lately??) I've just counted the hours down until I could drink. Made my cosy drinking nest and snuggled right in it.  I only invite my closest favouritest drinkers to join me. Like a secret club my drinking lair.  And, as its at home, that means I can still be 'there' for my family. (REALLY?? Sozzled most nights, that's how you work the parenting thing best, right?)

I'd love to blame some catastrophic event in my adult life that sent me reeling to the bottle. I became a parent, I stayed home more, like many I socialised more at home. No biggie. The drinking lair evolved slowly, like a cosy blanket, at first just there, then around your feet, then up around your body. Eventually like a nest, it became all consuming and I got comfy, complacent and it started to weave itself into my life. My marriage went bad, I blamed my husband, he left me with two small kids, I blamed him more. We all blamed him. We toasted to his crapness. He wasn't blameless, but neither was I.

Somewhere along the journey I lost myself. I lost my spark, my happiness, my accountability, I dampened myself down with wine and hid in my lair.

I can't fix the past, on a smaller scale I can fix now. I'm not even sure what kind of music I like anymore. If you've seen the Runnaway Bride - I'm going to give you a very daft analogy. The lady in the lead role (Julia Roberts) is a chameleon, she morphs into whatever her potential husbands need from her. The literal example of this is how she takes her eggs. Its the same as her 'future husbands' and different for each man. The upshot is that she has no idea how she actually likes her eggs. She's lost herself trying to be 'something' for other folks. 

I'm not saying I lost myself so far into the bottle or being a mum or whatever that I blame anyone for my own actions. Its me, hands up right here. But, when did I become this wine-lair person who freaks out at everything, the anxiety is a killer but I've always been anxious and prone to black moods. When did I stop challenging myself and hide in my lair? 

It crept up slowly, like my drinking, I lost me. I'm wondering who I am, if I'm not 'just a drinker'.

On a smaller level whilst I slowly morph back into me, who doesn't know what music she likes? I can easily fix that.  All I know for now is that I quite like Abba, (I realise they're long split up, I'm such a Radio 2 gal), I quite like melodies and singers I can sing along to and some angry punk, I'll give you that. I quite like going to gigs and I quite like dancing. That's a start.

I might have been lost, but I'm in there somewhere. My lair for now is boarded up. The Wolf no longer welcome with his comfy blankets and wine bottles.

Sober Mum, rocking out with the kids both home safe.

Sober Wife, able to drive if needed.

Sober Girl, listening to music again.

Thank you all for your lovely comments yesterday I really appreciated them. You're all stars wherever you are on your journey. Sunny here today, I hope the sun shines on you all too.

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 31 - Sober treats

So this arrives today. My sober bed, exactly this beautiful bed. I seem to be investing so much time and energy into being/staying sober that my first sober treat whilst a bit on the over-decadent side, cost almost exactly the same as last months wine money.

Whilst we've just moved into our new 'marriage' house, and I'm not working money is more than a little tight, but I've always found money for wine and associated wine treats/hangover remedies. We've some furniture and a few more bits to find, like a bed for the spare room. So the new bed will move into our room and the old hand-me-down bed to the spare room. This bed is MY sober bed.

Each day I put a fiver (£5) in a jar at the start of the day. Its like my own sober pledge. This money will not be spent on wine today. It sits on the shelf growing the more sober I become. Yes I could spend the money on groceries or on my children, or on shoes. But, this month I promised myself I could buy something for me.

31 days sober = £155 in my jar. [I count it everyday like a modern day Fagan]. My bed, that bed up there, that sober bed cost £159 with a nice new mattress. I'm going to use my £5 from tomorrow to make up the difference. So you see I'll have to be sober tomorrow too. Whilst I'm not very materialistic, how much more fun could my wine-money be if I didn't spend it on wine.

My sleep is so much more improved by not drinking, a nice new sober bed seemed just the ticket. 

Now, don't worry I'm not going to be frittering my newly wine-savings on silly purchases each month, that's very unlike me. But for this month, I wanted to show myself I could do it. I could do what I haven't done my whole adult life and that is to stay sober for one month. On the other hand, if I used the wine-money as a 'treats fund' would that be so bad?

It's certainly better for my liver. Today I feel proud. I've stopped and started and stopped and started giving up for so long now, a month for me is a real big deal.

Thanks for helping me along with this. You're all awesome for taking the time to pop in and comment. For all of you on the forums at Living Sober, thank you. For Women in Sobriety, thank you and for the sober podcasts and all the countless sober beautiful bloggers out there giving each day time to help people like me, THANK YOU. My sober tool box is out and being used every day. I'll keep adding to it as I can. I'll stop gushing now!

I'm out at a concert with the kids tonight so won't get this built up today, but tomorrow, you bet I'll be spanner in hand, building my very own first sober bed. I've been thinking of some new bedding too but maybe not this particular 'wolfie' cover.

Sober Wife, making a new home for us to share, embracing the changes instead of feeling lonely.
Sober Mum, messaged the kids about meeting up later today for a concert.
Sober Girl, excited about her one month sober, she might even put some 'fairy lights' around the new sober bed, just to be silly.

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 30 - A few sober things to remember

So one month in to the sober adventure, and what have we learned aside being angry.

1 - I found sober friends, who understand. I can't thank you enough to know I'm not alone.
2 - My head is clear, it might be a bit out of sorts but its clear.
3 - I'm participating in my own life more, in small ways.
4 - I sleep much much better once we get to sleep. Might need to invest in anti-husband-snoring earplugs, who knew he was so noisy! I've always fallen asleep drunk.
5 - I may be grumpy and overwhelmed but I'm happier even if its just a spark of happy in a big puddle of meh...... I'll get there.
6 - I'm taking care of me and eating breakfast and better food.
7 - I'm less paranoid. [who said I wasn't......:D]
8 - I like me more, I'm just not good with RL friends and family at the mo. But that's probably more about me than them.
9 - I need a virtual sober toolkit, maybe like a big purple sober suit, with a sober floatation device like a rubber ring and some big oven gloves to stop me opening wine sometimes so I can laugh at myself. I need a real toolkit too with snacks and good distraction techniques in it. Maybe I also need a sober cape, how cool would that be, whatever works.
10- I need to know that each day I'm here, it will get better. Other bloggers and sober online friends tell me it will. I believe them, as I'm not as unique and broken as I once thought I was.


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 27-28-29 - Sober RAGE and some PAWS (post acute withdrawal syndrome)?

Its fair to say that I'm less than what you'd call 'fluffy' today, in fact for most of the weekend I've been like a hedgehog crossed with a bear with a sore head. And, man have I let everyone know it.

I've always been a social creature, love a houseful. So we're often the 'hosts' for family weekends, dinners, you name it, I cook, plump and shop for it. But at the moment this has sent me into a rage of fury. I suspect if I'm honest my 'socialising' party pants were a great enabling mechanism for my drinking.

Yes really, you'd probably already guessed its taken me 30 days. 30 sober days to fathom this one out.

So this weekend, we hosted the furthest away rellies and their wee child. That in itself was OK, but there were extras 'invited' along to stay for the whole weekend, before and after the incoming folks arrived. My husbands mother for one. Now, I know that I find her difficult. I normally control my feelings with drink. Its not pretty or clever but that's what I do. Its my 'switch off' button. As I've recently moved down to join my husband I'm seeing a lot more of her, and if I'm honest, its driving me nuts. I need my space. She's happy in our space, Husband is happy, I'm going slowly mad.

No drinking to switch off the space issues, lead to even more rage, a sullen wife all weekend. And it seems I can do sullen crossed with rage at an olympic level. Oddly I didn't really want to drink, I wasn't angry I couldn't drink, just that I'd lost my switch off button.

They all finally left. I didn't enjoy the weekend. I was angry and stressed. That was noticed. I just didn't care.

So finally free, I decided I needed a treat to reward my shockingly bad behaviour. I wanted alcohol. So we went for 'treats' and that included a bottle of Cava which I'd convinced myself I deserved.

We also went for some takeaway.  

My daughter texted to say she'd be free to skype at 8pm, this also sent me into a rage. But, I didn't want to talk to her after I'd been drinking. So I waited. I ate some crappy food, I drank some juice and made a tonic water with ice and lemon. I told myself I could drink after. I told myself I should listen so some sober stuff, read some sober stuff and then talk to my daughter and then see how I felt about the wine. 

I listened to Belle's soberpodcast - about families and xmas and the buttons that get pushed. Any family event gets my buttons pushed.

I read up about anger in early sobriety and came across a lot of articles on  Post Acute Withdrawal Syndrome. And, after giggling at Jean's eyebrows over on Unpickled, I read again an article on anger and falling into anger traps.

As the clock struck gone nine last night, I thought about being 30 days sober today. Maybe the food and the non-alcoholic drinks had been absorbed by now. I had a little space, I calmed down. A good chat with my daughter. A whole month sober, but no one knows aside you lovely folk.

The Cava remains unopened. I told myself I could drink it another day. Maybe never a small voice is saying. Why do I need alcohol as a treat anyway. I've behaved outrageously bad and sullen all weekend. My skins still crap, my weight is still up, my mood is still black. But, a small voice said, you'll hate yourself tomorrow if you drink this tonight. You'll feel crap. It will be hard to start again and 30 days is a lot to give away.

I think I need to find other mechanisms to control my rage and a better attitude. Stupidly I thought I'd be mended a bit by now. So having people in my sober bubble might be easier.

I think I'm going to pull the sober drawbridge up for a while again, maybe next time I let it down, I'll be better prepared and behaved. We've nothing scheduled again until Xmas/New year when we've a heap of folks here. That's not to say we wont have more in between but for now, I think its time to withdraw, reflect and find some help somewhere for this rage.

I know I need a decent moisturiser, some tlc for my hair and skin, some more vits? And maybe a plan to walk more and kick start that weight loss I'm whinging about. Time to take care of me and see the shiny sober self emerging.

Sober Mum, two skype calls, two nice chats and plan to see both this week.

Sober Wife, behaving dreadfully. Must work on that.

Sober Girl with extra rage, she needs to work on herself, her skin and her manners. For that she knows she needs time. Hibernation sounds lovely.

I promise I'll try harder to be less grumpy. The Cava was stupid, but it goes today, either as a donation or back to the shop to see if I can swap it for non-alcoholic treats. We'll see. What was I thinking.

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 26 - Chocolate and the Wolf

He's behind you.

So you have a good day, you walk in the sunshine, you do things that stimulate your brain and yet the wine wolf sits early evening in the car, rattling the keys with the wine-shopping bag in hand. We need wine he cries and you're almost out of chocolate too.

What's that all about? I drown the bastard with vitamin c fizzy pint of water, and whizz up a cocoa and banana milkshake so thick I can probably skate on the top of it. So sitting like a beached whale, I decide that going out to a pub for a writing group meeting, is a bad idea. Apart from anything else, I can barely move and I still want wine. So I'm under house arrest again. I know wine won't help. I'm hiding from Wolfie, again. And, I'm going to keep hiding, you know why?

I'm sleeping better, that's for sure and I'm so tired. Is my body healing or just in hibernation mode? Hungry this morning I stuffed in breakfast like I'd never seen food before. Before even having my morning cuppa. That's new. 

I got out in the garden yesterday for the first time in a while and actually enjoyed being there again. 

I enjoyed work and offered to do some extra things. 

I didn't push it last night when for some reason the wine wolf wanted us to go shopping, I just shut myself down and I hid, I know he's there, behind me, but I'm hiding, I can't see him and I wish he'd shut up.

I'm four weeks sober tomorrow. It feels strange. Will it ever feel normal? I hope so.

More reasons why I'm hiding from my drinking self, that horrible wolf. I'll tell you why, the guilt has gone, the paranoia has gone. 

Sometimes I think a glass won't hurt then read all the stories of folks trying to moderate with limited success. I know if I start to drink again, its only a matter of time before I'm back where I was, or worse. Other people struggle too. 

Its a progressive disease, right? Yes I used the D word. The more reading I do the more I'm slowly coming over to thinking addictions or unhealthy relationships with alcohol/drugs are a disease. Wrong brain wiring, call it what you will, but its not normal to feel about wine/getting wasted the way I do. 

I saw a post on an old forum I use to be on (about drinking) from a girl who's 5 years sober yesterday. 5 years ago I stopped drinking for a few weeks, then slowly moderated. 5 years on, I've now, 5 years later, stopped again for the longest time since. That made me really think.

More visitors due at the weekend, we've asked them to respect that we're booze free house at the mo. Trying to be a bit healthier. That's all we've said. I'm a bit paranoid about it all as I'm known to love my wine. We'll see how that goes and if they do bring booze, I know from last weeks experience I can weather it. But, I'm still nervous about folks thinking about my not drinking. 

Belle's sober podcast yesterday said something along the lines of....

'.....when we quit drinking we think that everyone is looking and us and thinking why and judging us.'

And that's how I was feeling, but she continued to say, folks are kinder, less judgmental and they're not judging you, or why you're not drinking. So ITS NOT TRUE, they don't judge.

So I realised that I'm not the centre of the universe (no really I'm not), and its OK to say we're having a wine/booze free weekend. Its our house, our lives.

My life. 28 days sober tomorrow. Who'd have thought. I should be happy, and excited, a tiny part of me is proud, the bigger part is telling me I'm still rubbish, why is that an achievement? Oh because I'm useless and I'll never really stop for long. 

I'm trying not to listen to that voice, I'm happy I'm sober but I'd like to be proud. Maybe one day eh? For today I'm happy. That'll do.

Sober Mum, wishes my son a lovely happy birthday today where have the 20 years gone.

Sober Wife, up at 6 am seeing himself off the premises with a packed lunch and a smile. A real smile.

Sober Girl, beginning to take care of myself. Waking up with no guilt, no hangover is nice. OK so the wine wolf is still barking and snapping at my heels. He can stay behind me.

Lucky its the season for thick socks and boots to give me a bit of protection from that wee bugger.

Belle's site 'Tired of Thinking about Drinking' is a great one! She supports a shed load of folks on the way to sober with her sober podcasts and blog. Pop over. I'm lucky to have found her too thanks to someones recommendation. 

PS My husband says to me last night. 'This chocolate eating thing has got me freaked out, what's wrong with you'. I shrug, I've no clue. And, let me tell you buying a small bar is not any use, I need big bars and enough in the house to know I've some when I want it.

I've seriously no clue why I'm eating chocolate (I use to hate the stuff), any ideas, is it the sugar that I'm not getting from the wine I'm not drinking? Or has my body just flicked a switch and turned my chocolate gene on? Either way I'm baffled, I've spend 46 years not understanding the whole chocolate eating thing, now I can't get enough........

Hey hello! 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 25 - Small steps to sober

So October is nearly at a close, its one of my least favourite months as the clocks go back and the darkness seeps out of every corner into our lives here in the UK. I stopped drinking at the start of October, decided by Day 3 I could moderate, what was the big deal.

Oh dear girl, you're an idiot. So I've been sober since the wine escapade. But, its been hard. I'm thankful for anyone popping on here, thankful for really helpful sober blogger, sites, communities and all the 'you can do its'. I seriously never believed I could go almost a month without wine. 

Not me, I have a wine radar and a kinda snorkel attachment which hoovers it up. Its not bonnie that's for sure.

So yesterday it took 1 minute and 26 seconds to call my local Drugs and Alcohol unit and ask to make an appointment. Its taken me a week to do this call from picking up the leaflet but I've been thinking of getting SOME help for a while now. I wasn't judged (I thought I would be), I wasn't met with that sooked in breath that makes you feel like shit. All I got was a request for some details and told I'll get some discreet mail soon and an appointment within 3 weeks. I didn't spontaneously combust. I don't have ALKIE tatoo'd on my forehead now. I just need to man up the sober tools I have and keep lobbing them at myself until some of these mad cravings pass. No clue which tools will work, so I'm throwing them all at myself by the bucket load. Aside a pack of sooperdooper multi-vits, my sober tool box has cost me nothing so far, aside a bit of time.

Is it getting easier, yes. Do I miss it, drinking wine, yes. It gets so ingrained into your routine, your coping strategies, your life that before you know it, its leading you, everyday.

So yesterday I also got an email out of the blue, that was nice, I walked the dogs at the beach instead of self-flagellating my lack of money to waste on things like petrol for walking. I told myself, no wine now, you can drive to the beach, you're still quids in. The sunshine warmed my face, the hounds had a hoot swimming in the sea and we talked to a few folks we passed. My head didn't hurt, it wasn't churning, it was a calm and relaxing stomp. With Octobers light being so limited, getting out in the daylight and the sunshine is such a bonus. I need to make more use of the precious daylight!

I'm filling my evenings with things I use to do during the day baths, reading, a bit of work. I'm considering keeping my work to 4-6ish as those are the times I hear the wine gong normally, when I'm absorbed in work, its a good distraction. Like I say trying anything that will work.

And on the subject of how much we all spend on wine Lucy has written a great article here.

Sober mum, pancake recipe required at gone 8pm, my kids know how to live but I was there for them, even if its just via skype.

Sober wife, a decent tea of fish and barley risotto consumed with gallons of water.

Sober girl, walk on the beach, submitted my tax return, popped my Dr's forms in the post and went for a walk. I took care of me yesterday.

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 24 - The sober sleep in continues

So like I said a while back, I took on advice to change my routine, and maybe I took this too far? I'm still camped out in the lounge on the sofa bed, like a slobby teenager. Yesterday I didn't get up until gone 12pm, there are some luxuries of working from home. And yet, its Wednesday and out of my 7 hours work, I've maybe done an hour. Old habits are hard to break.

I've no intention of moving back through into my bedroom just yet, I'm still in October so I'm still staging a sober yourself up, sitting room sleep in. Aside the folks at the weekend, this living space has been alcohol free. My gullet has been alcohol free. That's surprising. As if there were a queen of the wine in Scotland, the fastest dash to the bottle (s), it would be me. Not this month. Not today. And, today is all I can really think about.

I'm still nearly two stone over weight, well one stone if you count my natural 'chubbiness' does wine put the pounds on your belly and out of your pocket all at the same time, it seems so. 

Alcohol and the snacking, inactivity adds the pounds like applying butter to your thighs. Although the wine pounds I fear don't want to slip off my thighs so readily. I need to start to think about my diet, I've always been quite a healthy eater, I tell myself. But, after wine, I snack on carb-rich crap late at night so the pounds have been piling on. Its a bit like money spent on additional stuff to hide the wine. The food gets shoveled in late on in the evening to counteract the wine I think.

And, I'm tired and grumpy, low and down. Some folks on the forums have suggested vitamins so I'm looking into that. Any tips out there. I've also counted my woe-ful attempts at 'healthy eating'. Whilst you and I know chocolate is derived from a bean, it is not one of our five a day. I counted a measly half a banana, tablespoon of peas, one mandarin yesterday. Not cool. Today it needs to be increased. I'm really struggling with low mood, I think I'm naturally quite prone to wild ups and desperate downs. I'd like to even that out a bit if I can.

I filled in the GP registration form today, and wrote 60+ units on the 'do you drink'. I wrote the truth. I'll hand them in later and if they don't pick up on it, I'll be pointing it out. I also picked up leaflets for a local drugs and alcohol advisory service, will I ring, will I email, I hope I do. I'm new here, I don't know anyone, I can't bump into anyone I know, there's never been a better time for me to actually go and seek some in the flesh help. Nag me please. And, I picked up a 'self help to low moods' brochure. And, one for the local leisure services. 

I must not just bin these. I know only I can change me. But, I know I'm still at the thinking stage. And, I'm reading so much. I'm convinced that moderation isn't for me, I've a really unhealthy relationship with alcohol, but I'm not sure how I process that. So I'm just taking care of today and thinking about taking care of me. Who am I, without the wine?

So for now, I'm still staging a John-and-Yoko with my dear husband, on the sofa bed in the living room. I pack it up everyday, I'm not that much of a slob. 

Sober girl, trying to look at life and say, OK where do I start. A list of all the things I've put off might be good, as might be one of all the things I can do to keep me busy. Its not like the house doesn't need cleaned.

Sober Mum, my daughter is still pretty cold towards me, whether that's just perceived or real, I'm feeling it. I sent her another message yesterday to talk soon, we're supposed to talk every week but she's always an excuse..........I'm stubborn enough to keep nagging. :D

Sober Wife, he asked me last night how the non-wine stuff was going. Told him its hard to change habits you've got stuck into. You'll get there, he said. Hope so, I mumbled from the sleepy nook of the sofabed.

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 23 - Angry

My drinking buddy left yesterday and whilst it was good to see her, I did get a bit p***d off at her drinking. Maybe it was jealousy who knows. We're OK, we're always OK, but I have to put my hands up and admit I was annoyed. Although I understood, she is drinking and I am not. I'm still acting like a petulant child. People drinking makes me angry. What's that all about, sour milk, jealousy? Who knows, but I'm angry.

I've been reading so much about how you stop focusing on not-drinking eventually. I nearly slipped up last night. Hungry out all day picking up my daughters car, the only thing that stopped me buying wine was the lack of money. There was a tiny voice in my head telling me that it won't make it better, drinking wine. But, I wanted some. I've been aware of how HALT (Hungry, Angry, Lonely and Tired) affects me for a while, SoberChick puts it beautifully here. I'm only two strikes in (Hungry and Angry) so I call my son on Skype and stuffed a sandwich in my face, the minute I'm home.

I told myself I could drink later if I wanted to. Maybe tomorrow if I was really needing to drink.

I had a snack and started dinner.

I skyped my son.

I had a bath, with a candle, hark at me, all taking care of myself.

I washed my hair.

I put on my pjs.

I nearly got dressed again but I didn't.

We ate dinner.

I nearly got dressed again but I didn't.

I scanned some documents for my son to email, had a chat on f/b with a chum.

As I was scanning his documents, a sober friend also emailed, out of the blue asking me some things about work, how I'd managed to work when I was drinking. As I was typing away the stress of the day, the cravings, who knows what they were, evaporated. When you're typing about how you hid your drinking at work, how you managed it, what you did, how you coped it puts it into hard facts. 

I told her, I functioned. I didn't live, I didn't raise hell. I functioned my way through those years and those opportunities. My inner voice is telling me, I could have been so much more. Well, we'll see, todays a new day.

I know this, I don't want to just function anymore. I'm already seeing small changes in my reactions/thoughts about being more involved, engaged in life. That's nice.

Today I'm not stressed as I did manage to get those documents sorted for my son and by chance, luck, good fortune, I saw the sober email and replied, that took me through it all. Let me tell you, I realised this, I have a whole HEAP of stuff I've not done for myself/our house/life that I find too overwhelming and I put off. Maybe if I did some of them rather than put them off, that voice of overwhelm in my head would stop for a bit. Today, I've told myself, I'll write that list. Its raining, so why not. I don't want to just function anymore. I'd like more.

Oh and I've lost 2lbs. As my exercise is limited to a quick dog walk at the moment, surely that's got to be from lack of booze?

Sober girl - got a day bed dismantled (all by herself) and packed up for her friends teenager to take home. Huge hug for my chum too. Her choice to drink, I need to remember that.

Sober wife, lovely dinner on the table, bath waiting, surely I get brownie points for this?

Sober Mum, brought the girls car home no fears about being over the limit the day after. Did some admin for my son and had a good natter.

PS I've also promised myself I'll stop whining and focus on the positives soon! You'll be glad to read that.

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 22 - I lost the dog

So I wake up on Sunday, to a clattering noise, like banging that use to be in my head. Thankfully despite the wine flowing here last night (of which I touched none, I left that to my guests), it was only the garden gate and the shed doors going crazy in the autumn gales. Having nipped out to do the chooks in PJ's, I hauled one shed door shut, then managed to close the gate after I'd done my chores and I lost the dog. 

No amount of self beration could help this Sunday. I simply lost the dog, calling myself all kinds of stupid. That'll teach you to drink shouted the wolf  (my inner stupid voice) you stupid girl.

Erm, I'm not hungover Wolf, I did not drink, and I have no power over shed doors and gates in gales dear Wolf. So you can't be right about me being stupid because I drank, as I did not drink yesterday.

Mad scabble for clothes (no one really needs to see my in my fluffy dog pjs) and mad calling of the dog. 

Turns out the pesky mutt ran into the shed in search of chicken grub, I locked him in. In itself not a big deal, but up and dressed we headed out for a really early walk. 

So here I am at gone 8am dressed, with husband and bounding up to the local nature reserve.

I'm clearly feeling the better for no hangovers. Although I've been getting bad headaches.

My friend drank all weekend, discreetly but as she left me the recycling, I know how much.

You know what struck me, after 12 units she seemed so 'normal' just a happier version of herself. 

That was weird. My husband is still a bit perplexed/bemused at my not drinking. 'You never got fall down drunk'. 

Nope just slumped on the sofa drunk. 

Her drinking upset me a bit, not that it will affect our friendship, but she kept 'pushing' her 14 year old daughter on me the next morning to 'do things with'. So she could have some quiet time. The selfish part of me was shouting 'what about my quiet time, I didn't get any last night either remember I didn't drink, so I need some quiet time now, I need me time?'  - but I made pancakes with her girl and we had a giggle. My selfishness abated quietly, I'm lucky to be asked to help I told myself.

If I'm totally honest, I can't say I'm looking forward to spending Xmas with them all. But, I know I've got to sort this out because we're great friends who drink. But, we're great friends.

Next weekend we've a houseful again. I'm dreading that too as its husbands rellies on a visit and his Mum is staying too. Its not going to be an easy household, I get stressed around them all. And, there's normally wine. But, next weekend we've told the visitors, no booze please, we're cutting down.

Our house is often a busy one, so I need to work out how to be around so many folks, in our joint space and not open a bottle and slump back into my old habits. Any ideas aside wiring my jaws shut or locking all the doors.

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 20 & 21 The sober bubble

So this is me. Front and centre, grinning like an idiot. Bestie right by my side as always. She's a star, she even cooked for my wedding. Yes someone lovely is cleaning my boots, it a long story, but that's not normal!

So I'm sitting here, shaking, my guts are all over the place, I feel sick and I'm actually scared. I'm not sick. At least I don't think I am. This is the first of my 'social' weekends since I quit drinking. Last night we ended up out with younger relatives. As the pitchers of cocktails went by in the bar we were in, in town, I had a twinge. Just a glass of wine, I'd like that, just one. But I had such a thurst, I knew for sure I couldn't stop at one. I'm with my husbands young relatives (early 20's) I like these folks, I don't need to be a drunken lass in front of them. Whilst its hard, the moment eventually passes. Conversation is a bit stilted, normally I fill in the gaps with my chatter. Not today. I'm a bit guarded and twitchy. We return home, normally my cue to drink, but I snaffle some chocolate and some winter punch, I feel safer. We say our sober goodbyes and I wake up this morning, the first thought not 'what did I say' but, 'nice evening'. That was nice.

I've never said 'well done' to myself for not drinking. Some of you have, and that's awesome to hear but I feel like a fraud. A sober fraud. I feel broken and unworthy. I don't know why. I guess, for some folks not drinking isn't a big deal, for me its epic. My brains just telling me, other people don't find it hard, why should you. You're broken, that's why you drink, it helps. I'm realising, it doesn't help. So what if I'm broken, wine doesn't help.

But, today, right now, I'm also terrified. My best friend is coming to stay, its been arranged for months. Normally there would be at least a couple bottles of wine and a bottle of gin here. Tomorrow (normally) we'd replenish the wine at least, sometimes also the gin. But, today there's no wine here. There's no gin. Tonight feels like it will be an enormous test. I've (stupidly) told her yesterday, that I didn't mind if she drank here too. She can do what she pleases, I love her enough to allow her the space to drink if she wants to enjoy her weekend away. This trip is her weekend off from stresses and family, so normally we drink. Whilst she's not likely to drink to excess most days, I can. So having her here is a great excuse for me to 'celebrate' with wine, like I do most nights she's not here.

She knows I'm not drinking, she's the only friend who knows how hard this is. It took me a while to tell her as I didn't want to make her feel as if I was making a judgement on her or thinking worse of her for drinking when I'm not. And, I'm not a person who judges anyone, especially her. She also has an 'off' button when it comes to drinking, we both know, I struggle with the 'off' button. She understands and she doesn't judge.

She's a star.

I'm just not ready to come out of my sober bubble yet. She might join me, I guess, there's certainly room for not just me. I like my sober bubble.

And whilst I'm nervous I know she's not going to tip me upside down and put a wine hose down my throat, really, is she?

Now that I've written that sentence, I guess its quite silly to be scared, but I'm nervous of how tonight might go. I just need to be strong and know that, I've not drank for 21 days. And, I'm OK. It might be hard later but I'll get through it.

After all, I got through yesterday, in a bar. I have enough room on my credit card for 100's of bottles of wine, I haven't bought any.

I haven't drunk.

Sober mum, erm well no sober mum action this weekend so far but I'm AVAILABLE.

Sober girl, who's really looking forward to seeing her chum, even if she's a bit nervous.

Sober wife, shopping budget came in at under £22 this week, dinners cooking, house is looking nice. Had a walk after shopping without a throbbing head, without being grumpy. 

PS We've more weekend family staying next weekend, my DH has phoned and said we're a booze free house at the moment, so if that's cool, come and stay. No objections from the rellies, they never batted an eyelid, so you see, I am learning. And, this here, this house, right now, this is my sober bubble.

PPS I dunno why I shared a pic, probably won't do it often, I might even take it down later, I'm not sure, but this is me. I'm a real girl, with a real problem but I'm trying to fix myself.

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 19 - The addiction paradox

If I'm absolutely honest with myself and anyone reading, until yesterday at approximately 3.34 pm I didn't believe in addiction. I'm not sure what I believe now. I've always thought I was too lazy and useless to give up wine. Too hedonistic, too pleasure seeking, too self-satisfying, that's me. I'm 'too' much of most things. I'm an excessive kind of person. I don't just eat, I gorge. I don't just parent, I'm like some kind of cape wearing Mary Poppins (in my head), I can't just enjoy something I have to understand it to the very minuscule tiniest of detail, I don't just write or create or cook laxly, I do things ferociously. I'm an over-doer. I always have been.

Until yesterday, I'd always just thought, its me, that's what I do, I'm all or nothing. And its the same with alcohol. No surprise there eh? I drink nothing (seldom) or everything (mostly). I generally set my own standards/obsessions so high that I either never achieve them or die trying. The lows of let downs of ridiculous expectations seem to fuel the drinking that's for sure.

Is my brain defective? I kind of hope so in some ways because I like my brain. Am I am addict, I'm not sure, is my drug of choice wine [insert any other alcoholic beverage here], almost certainly. Having watched a lecture from an addiction specialist yesterday, I'm pretty sure I'm an addict although I'm still on the fence on 'addiction'. But, I sure have an unhealthy relationship with a bottle of Pinot that's for sure. 

I've been wondering why I've stopped now. Stopped drinking, for now. (I'm not at forever yet.) The kids are gone, literally, just gone and off to uni. With no real 'boundaries' of parenting left, job and community engagement gone. I'm in a new place, with no responsibilities and aside a husband home after 7pm out again at 7am, I've nothing or no one taking my time. I've no excuse NOT to drink. In fact aside being 'sober-ish' when he was home, every excuse TO DRINK.  Infact if I only have to be sober from 6-8pm I can drink earlier, sober up a bit, be a bit social and fun, then drink some more. What a fabulous thought, my wine soaked head told me. Even more drinking fab. You don't need a job, you don't need to do anything, just drink. It will be lovely. Just us. He won't notice, just drink. No one needs you anymore. Just drink.

Of course, I've a billion excuses not to drink, a loving family, a nice home, chickens, dogs, flowers, nice grub, beaches, etc etc. The only voice I can hear is that I can drink now, as much as I like and it doesn't matter. That's all I heard.

When drinking becomes the only thing you hear, the only thing you want to do and you've nothing stopping you, and can't think of a reason not to drink aside feeling crap and useless, that's scary. And, sadly for me, it was also very exciting. Nothing to stop me now. I can drink all I like, everyday.

Bring out the wine, bring on the dancing girls. Just make sure they bring their own booze ok, this is MINE. And make sure they don't stay long as I like to drink alone. Its my wine time.

Like I said, I've always been an over-doer.

I dunno what flipped in my brain, but I know I needed to stop, at least for now. A small voice is telling me, probably forever, but we're not quite ready to hear that yet. So for now I'm stopped and hear I am, waffling shite as per usual.

Do I believe in addiction, altered brain chemistry, is it a disease, rather than hedonistic self-indulgence? Well the evidence I'm reading from the neuroscientists (and a clever bunch they are, its quite hard to understand most of it) would suggest its real and its not just my own weak-willed, stupid fault that I drink. So, whilst I'm still confused, I'm engaged and still reading. Don't worry I promise not to decide to gorge myself on too much reading, that on the whole, I really don't understand. I am not a neuroscientist.

If addiction is indeed real, and a disease, however, I should probably apologise to my father, (after I've told him off for giving me some of his genes, if indeed he has). He probably needed my help, he might not have listened rather hearing the song of his whisky bottle. But, at least I could have offered. My anger with him and his drinking has at least abated to contemplation and regret (mine, for me and for him), not for my kids or my family, they didn't need to see him like that. Of course that's why I largely drank when they slept, I got up and I functioned. Not much of a difference in the long run really. Except for now, I've stopped.

Alcohol is indeed a paradox. I don't want it in my life.

Sober girl, lots of reading and thinking, I ventured out to an art launch last night, after wine-o-clock.

Sober mum, dropped off the driving licence in the city yesterday night after event.

Sober wife, gorged at McDonalds on the way home rather than buy wine and (potentially) drink a whole load of it whilst 'near home', yes driving, I know that's insane. So instead of rolling in half-drunk, I rolled in like a beach whale, gorged on a plastic fish sandwich and a fizzy drink. 

Baby steps.

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.