Day 145 - Daring to be sober

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

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

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

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

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

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

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

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

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

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

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

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

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

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

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

I'm not perfect, but I am sober.

And daring to stay that way.

145 days today. 

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

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

Sober first, always.

My sober week

So here I am finally catching up on sober-life, I'm so sorry this is so late, but here we go and how I've missed you all, thank you so much for your kind comments so far I really appreciate it all. My sober week, last weekend, but the one past, I went to London and caught up with some other sober ladies and how exciting was that. We nattered for hours and whilst I was nervous, I was more excited than scared for once in my life. I've never been so happy to sit and honestly be me, ever before, not a bit of confusion as to how I am, and to talk about sober in my real life, was fabulous. As well as all the other things we talked about. And enjoyed a Beetini mocktail, out of a very swanky jam jar in a dry-restaurant called Redemption.

It was challenging being out of my comfort zone in a city I've only been to three times in my entire life. But, armed with a good bit of planning and some 'tube' training I managed quite nicely. I also took the time to visit a friend who was local and catch up with her and her husband, in person for once, rather than on the phone. So a great time. I'll write more about it, I'm sure later. My main message from all of this would be, if you get a chance to talk to sober people, DO IT. Meet up, talk, hug and exchange stories, its really helped to strengthen my resolve. And, so I went to London and looked after only me for the whole weekend, what a sober treat.

I landed home with a bang. So much going on but always time to take time for me, go and walk, think and contemplate. After my therapy session on Tuesday I found myself walking on the rocks of a beach, gently placing my foot from one to another, choosing my path, thinking about each step. It made me think of this sober journey and how each choice is like a stepping stone, not necessarily in a logical order, but working towards a better me. I like that. Of course I fell off a big rock, but hey what's life without a few falls.......makes us know we're alive. 

Wednesday I went to my group session and celebrated 130 days, a mixed week for many folks and whilst it was nice to share my successes it was also nice to share strategies for keeping sober, learning more about why urges strike and how to cope with them. Like waves, they come and go. And like my number, the sea washed it away too quickly. 

I'm grateful the next number I wrote was 131 the next day. But, it so easily could have been a new day one if I'm not careful and look after myself so I'm still really focussing on self care. From Wednesday the week sort of disappeared. I heard I got a new job and whilst they said start in March, I ended up starting the next day for an evening shift. Now, normally if I got told you need to work 3pm-10pm at an event, I'd be thinking of how to plan my wine drinking for after. This time I just thought, I'm available, I don't need to worry about driving or drinking or whatever. I'm just available. That's a huge change for me. Sober.

Ok so starting work at an evening event with burgers and hot cider beside me on my first day. Not so great. I mean the burgers smelt lovely and the hot cider all gingery and scrummy smelling. I found myself saying, and god knows why I did, I gave up drinking a while ago. feel so much better for it, so no thanks. 

And, yes I got offered it at work, yes folks got offered it who'd driven,  the drivers to be fair didnt' take any. Cursing the change in the law. But I told my first stranger, I don't drink. I worked at this event for three nights, by the fourth evening, the lady said, I'm so sorry I keep offerring, you but you don't drink do you.  No I said I don't. 

So I kept on doing my lines and writing plant labels, sober. It seems like a nice place to work with lots going on so I'm keen to do well and keep myself sober and happy. Nice to go to work without the obligatory painkillers in my lunch box, just in case.

Squeezing in walks and organising my work meals has been hard work this week, but I've remembered that if I don't look after me, it doesn't help me stay sober. And, there's so much to be sober for. Like a new job working with these cute flowers, like a better, happier me, I'm better sober. Spring is really on its way.

A friend saw my post about being offered buckfast (a tonic wine) on the train in December, so she sent me this card and a cute bag she found to say happy new job. Only in Scotland would Buckfast at Tiffany's mean something so different, and not unlikely! It made me laugh.

And last week of course, Valentines day arrived. No pink champagne here, just some flowers, a day of walking and lunches out.  The sun came out and it was very spring like, very warm and the beaches filled up a bit.

                But, we found a few empty spots. A day of hand holding and laughing with my husband. 

More chat about potentially leaving drinking to other people. A really close day which ended with a lovely supper of seafood and bread with a bottle of something cold and non-alcholic from the fridge, just because we can. And my poor fridge doesn't know what's hit it, such variety.

Have you noticed though, when the wine aisle loses its appeal, there's so much f**ing juice in the world and so much choice. I've been blind before I found sober. My current favourite is Beetroot, its gorgeous red hue luxuriously smears my glass with its glossy goodness. And its yummy too.

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

Day 123, The cycle of change

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

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

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

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

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

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

Stay sober, find happy. Its my new mantra.

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

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

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

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

Without the booze, obviously.

Have a great day! 

Day 122 - emerging

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

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

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

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

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

Its confusing. 

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

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

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

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

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

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

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

Hugs!

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 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?

My sober week

An old place always explored.

This is the time I like to look over the week in my life and be grateful for being sober. Last weeks post is here, this week has been quite different. I like to look and reflect on what's been happening and where I am. I like doing this it helps me to appreciate the calm days like the one above. How beautiful a day was this? Still and sunny, snow on the hills, a wonderful walk with my husband in my favourite place. My grandfather had a boat here a long time ago, we came most weekends and 'plowtered' about on his wee fishing boat. Its a time of my life I'll always be grateful for.

A new place to explore in the city.

So on Sunday I met a bunch of lovely lovely friends for a birthday lunch. Only see them now and again, you know how it gets. So much chatter the waiter/waitress had to come over several times before we could order.......And then a walk. Its lovely to be with friends that just get you, love you and respect you. No pressures and no hassles. No drinking, and on day 99, last Sunday I emailed the lovely Belle and joined the 180 day challenge and shut up Wolfie for a while which was good as he'd been very loud. I smothered him in sober love. And, moved forward.

Its been a week of celebration, getting to day 100 on Monday. A reflective time, my daughter travelling back to the UK from her fathers, always makes me edgy. I know this and I prepare for it, lots of self care, my real sober 101.  Its the only thing that's kept me from my downward spiral of drinking. 

Therapy on Tuesday, no tears this time just some revelations and some time to acknowledge a few things to myself. 

I'm a fretter, I'm anxious, these emotions have always been smothered in booze so they feel raw-er (real word) and I know to prepare for them.  But the storms of emotion always come.  I'm learning to prepare for them. A bit like a real life storm, preparing for bad weather, or bad moods, or just bad seems to help.  A bit like chopping logs, you do it when its calm, to prepare for the stormier times when you need them.

And we've had some storms this week. And, I've not been as prepared as I'd like. We talked a fair bit at my group meeting (SMART) on Wednesday about triggers and the positives and negatives of drinking. Hardly surprising perhaps that all the 'positives' about drinking were about short term gain. Whilst all the positives of not drinker were about long term gain. An interesting meeting, one new person to the group was having one, two then no three day sober. 

 At our meeting, its usually set by how our 'check ins' have been, and with someone new in the group we worked on triggers and how to over come them, how to delay. They said to me, I'd so like to get where you are. I looked around. ME? ME? Oh lord I'm so new at this I thought. Be like me? EEK. Get support I said, I'm so glad you're here I said. Load up on extra help I said. Trying harder didn't get me here (so new on my journey, I feel I have only a newbies voice) I so know day 1, day 2, drink day 3 its been my pattern for years, I said, trying different and loading up on so many 'sober tools' did help me to break the cycle a bit more often than not.  So I know it works for me. As always after the meeting if I can I go for a walk, this one, two days sober then third day drink is a pattern I have long been stuck in, I thought about that a lot on my walk. And I'm so glad I found you all.

Here I am. The one advantage of having a chum to stay is that they take your photo. Glamourous as always, stomping on a beach near home, this is me. The first evening my friend arrived there was a huge amount of weather disrupted travel in the north of the UK and I ended up stranded on a train, meeting my friend earlier and quite growly (grumpy) that my couple of hours I had planned after work alone had been destroyed. No ones fault but it left me more than a little touchy. I need my alone time. I need time to brace myself for people in my space. I started into the evening grouchy and as you'll no doubt be aware, it almost ended in disaster with me drinking. How I didn't drink I do not know. I'm grateful I didn't drink.  I don't feel strong. I feel pissed off. I feel sometimes like I don't get heard in my real life. Maybe my anger at her is really for my own situation. We drank in a pretty similar way and she's the same. Maybe I'm angry at me. 

I want to thank all of you over in sober lands who've touched base with me and checked I'm OK. I really can't thank you enough. And, whilst I feel unheard in this old friendship, I know you hear me and I'm so grateful for you all.

Having weathered the storm on Thursday night, space invaded, drink brought to my house when I asked for it not to be, I arranged that we'd attend a local 'Burns Supper' together. You could take wine if you wanted, but I forgot (oh dear) to tell my friend this. And so we drank water. And it was fun and fine. I certainly didn't miss it I don't know if she did, I didn't give her the option.

Saturday was for more walking, I feel sometimes that my space is invaded by people I love. I don't mind so much, but I'm beginning to realise a lot of these plans were for enabling my drinking. So maybe its not surprising that now, I'm finding them hard. Part of me wonders if its always been this hard for my husband. They all arrive clutching their bottles, and I run and hug and join them, with mine. For a non-drinker partner, can this be much fun. Probably not. So on Saturday we walked with the last of the visitors. We had breakfast out, (no hangover), we talked about the Burns supper (guilt free, no paranoia) and we had a lovely sunny walk. In my favourite place. I don't mind sharing it sometimes.

What I did do however, was remove myself from the company of my husbands Mum. I'd expected him to take her home and he'd muted he'd like her to stay longer. I smiled and asked if it was OK to take myself off to the woodshed for a wee while, if he was OK keeping his Mum company. Now, normally I'd find that too rude, but unhungover and free of guilt I thought to myself. I've done my bit for this weekend. I need some time to go and be alone. To reflect and to take out some of my anger on my wood pile. 

I'm very angry. I think perhaps I've always been pretty angry. I grew up in a very angry and quite violent household. My innermost core reaction has always been anger and lashing out, as I got older I lashed out with my tongue not my fists, when I learned that actually, people don't hit other people.  Its funny what you learn at home, its only when you leave you realise that perhaps not everyone acts like this. So I know I have a lot of anger inside me. Its often near the surface. Don't get me wrong I've never been a violent parent, heaven forbid any child had an upbringing like mine. But I do have anger, I was angry on Thursday when I found drink in my friends bag. Anger seems to be a trigger for drinking for me. I don't know why, maybe its how I suppress it. I think I'm angry at her because we drank the same, which isn't very kind now is it. But, I know I'm angry at me.

So off I took myself yesterday to my wood shed, out with the axes and the splitting tools. Yes I realise I sound a little demented and that I might not be a nice person, but I'm generally outwardly calm, and this is what I do to find my calm. I go vent and bash things with hammers and axes. So I spent a couple of hours splitting wood until my arms ached and then digging the garden until my other muscles ached and I took turns in doing both. I took them both on until my anger went, spent.

And I wore my best boiler suit and my best boots. Because, you know, I'm worth it. After all, I'm all about the glamour too.

So that was my sober week, a high five for 100 and then some tough times. And, a fair bit of wood chopping. How was yours?

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. Or email me direct on mrs.daisy.h@gmail.com I'd be delighted to hear from you.

PS I've been having some technical issues with blog comments and posts so please bear with me until I fathom out what's going on! Thank you sober lands. xx

Day 95 - Sober love, apply liberally, with a shovel.

Sober treat basket overload. Sober love.

Thank you for all the support yesterday. I really appreciate it. Hugs and kisses to you all x

So the snarky head is still here but I bludgeoned it yesterday with sober treats and sober tools, I bought a basket full. A group call with Belle. An email with sober chum. A text with another. A call with a friend who makes my heart sing. I read sober blogs and forums. And, today its kept the sober-momentum going when I thought I was sunk. Today I also went to a meeting and asked for help with preventing relapse. 

Before today I've never had this many sober days in a row. NEVER. (aside pregnancy and my kids are 18/20) On the call with Belle there was a lot of chat about sober momentum, how to get there, sober treats and how to shovel sober support on with a JCB truck if you need to. Just to get through. 

So it got me thinking. I've been 'thinking about stopping drinking' and aware I've had a problem for a long time. My longest stretch of 'sober' before today was in October 2007 when I almost managed a month.

Almost, I drank on the last day. So in my head I didn't make it.

Its taken me until now to understand that what I've been trying and I mean determined trying to do is stop drinking or moderate for several years before October 2007 when I managed 30 sober days in a row. And, its taken me SEVEN YEARS almost to the day to start getting that again.

SEVEN YEARS

I've been on day 1, day zero, day 3, day zero, day 2, day zero, day zero, day zero [repeat this loop for SEVEN YEARS up until October 4th 2014.] 

AND EVERY MORNING AFTER THE NIGHT BEFORE I'VE BEEN BASHING MY HEAD WITH A VIRTUAL BRICK OF SHAME AND SELF LOATHING FOR A LONG TIME BUT THE MOST RECENT FOR SEVEN YEARS

No wonder I'm tired. I've been trying to get sober momentum (now that I know what that is) for the last seven years. And, I'm glad I found out about all the sober love and treats around and stopping hitting myself on the head with a brick. And its working. Sober tools work.

So even now, even on Day 95 when I've been feeling snarky I know that I need to not believe that voice in my head that tells me so many things which are wrong, like I should drink now and it will be OK.

What if it takes me another SEVEN YEARS to get this far.

Now, that's scarier than not drinking today and that's all I'm doing. Not drinking today.

And I'm loading up the sober treats, supports, emails, forums, podcasts, blogs, hugs and sober love until I understand inside myself that I'm worth being sober for. I'm learning so much from you all, I can't thank you enough. So I'm opening my arms up and loading myself up with sober love and tools.

Even if I sink in sober love.

So there. So what I'll be sober because today that's best for me.

And today I started my evening sober routine at 3pm today because I knew I needed to.

So there. I'm still sober, even though my heads telling me to give this all up. But, I need to say no.

And why, I keep telling myself, well I might not have sober again for a while if I stop today and the way I'm going and was drinking, maybe I don't have another SEVEN YEARS of abusing myself like this by drinking malarkey. So I say no.

Load me up on sober please. I'm too scared of going back. 

I can only deal with today and today, right now, I'm sober.

So apply sober love, liberally, with a shovel. Just do it already Daisy.

ETA to add a comment from Bea -

Daisy, your instinct is right; sober momentum is terrifically strong but can be undone with just one drink, like throwing your brick of shame into the spokes of a moving bicycle. So don't stop pedalling, ever.

Seven Days Sober

This weeks been a miserable one, [feel free to leave now!] the weathers been mostly like this drizzly and damp, dark and cold. Not a lot of fun and I'm afraid its mirrored my mood. Its been a bleak, dark week, some family stuff going on and a fair bit of anxiety over that. Sunday I really wanted to just drown it all in wine. I confessed this to my husband, who said we both know it won't help. He's very clever sometimes. I'm being more open with him these days and its really helping. He's making me strong and listening to me, so I'm being more honest. I find it hard to trust people, so for me this is a new growing aspect of our relationship. Sober benefit. And phone calls with new sober friends, listening and helping so much, thank you lovely you know who you are.

I'm also gearing up to a Xmas at home with boozy chums staying so that's got me a bit rattled. I'd emailed Belle, my sober penpal on the 100 day sober challenge, and told her I was a bit wobbly. She talked a lot of sense and also suggested I join in on her festive photo round up. Whilst there was NOTHING festive happening here, I'd a mind to make a wreath for the door so a couple hours with the loppers, some string and a wooden hanging later, as if by magic a wreath appeared with holly and ivy from the garden. (Don't peer into the messy kitchen, it needs a tidy!)

Truth be told I was quite chuffed with it. And, it distracted me out of my sullen mood.  

I had my therapy session this week and after I managed to have a half hour walk in the park where a cherry tree was blossoming far too early, whilst only a smatter of flowers, a bright light in the grey day. A fair bit of reflection, a few tears, these things take time. Both kids are now off to their fathers for Xmas, whilst this is normal in our lives, for me its a time I've always found difficult and isolated. I need to work through these feelings and find light and love with them, however the distance.

I took a trip on a train this week, visit a friend from my old life who's near. It was such a lovely change of scene and instead of driving, the train was a real relaxing time. Usually I weigh up petrol v train ticket money. This time I weighed up driving v reading time. I opted for the latter. A bit of a change for me.

A wee bit of time on beaches trying to make the noises in my head stop. Trying to calm the panic and stress that normally leads to drinking.  Overwhelm and upset often lead me to find solace and comfort in a bottle of wine (or two), but this week, as suggested I've tried to ride through the emotional turmoil. I use to think I never was a person who cried. Since getting sober this is certainly not the case. Tears are frequent and often. My skin is raw, prickly, shrinks to the sense of the slightest touch.  I'm desperately trying not the retreat, but its hard.

I'm never great at this time of year. Short days spoil my mood. I'm so looking forward to tomorrow when the shortest day is gone and from now on the days lengthen.  And, hopefully with it more light in my life and a lighter heart maybe.

Now, I know as a very new sober person, to be vigilant for stray glasses of wine trying to get through my sober superhero protective suit. So when faced with our local works 'doo' I side stepped the mulled wine, the sparkling wine, the beer, the cider, the spiced cider and found a wee jug of sober juice to sup from. Safe I thought. No, brandy in the pate, wine in the stew, I carefully avoided. Well done me out of danger. But, but, but, no I didn't expect, at a 'Festive Brunch' to find myself choking on a chocolate pudding.

Not a sixpence hiding in this (as sometimes at Xmas puddings can hide silver), but in these 'brunch' puddings it tasted like a gallon of whisky had been added. If you asked me if I'd be sitting in a large glass house dodging alcohol from every angle, including the chocolate pot puddings, I'd have thought you mad. Its daytime, people are driving (?) we're in a glass house, its 11am in the morning and its riddled with booze. I deftly (and quite unlike a LADY, that I assure you that I am) scraped the pudding back out of my mouth. A bit like a kid eating something disgusting. Firstly I'm driving and secondly it was rank, I hate booze in food, its vile. I'm sure if I tried to set a match to it, it would have flambayed itself. Begone Wolfie and your cunning xmas tricks, hiding booze in everything. You didn't get me you bugger. Almost though.

Date night, a couple of bottles of super posh soda from M&S whilst he perferred the raspberry, I perferred the lemon and mint. We had a sober carpet picnic, curled up and watched a film. I have to say I'm spending more time with my husband than a bottle of Merlot. Its nicer. And a nice way to start the weekend. No hangover this morning.

Today we went and picked our xmas tree, I love this tradition of bringing evergreen tree and light into the house. The smell is intoxicating. I also saw this wee penguin and knew that it would make us smile. In free floating splendour wonderful little penguin.  So that's was my week in photos. Some dark days, full of emotion, compelling to drink to forget or dull the pain. But, depsite the odds we got there.  Fecking hard this sober stuff sometimes. Some days lighter with friends, sober treats and love.

Whilst I'm nervous about xmas and having a boozy chum and her family to stay, I'm going to keep upping my sober tool kit, bling up the sober treats big style and make time for me and my sober self. And try not to go mad. Best Xmas present a girl can have eh? Sober Santa.

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 60 - domestic goddess, not.

Help yourself, we're celebrating new friends, life and love. Happiness.

So here I am in the messiest kitchen in the universe and I'm making brownies. I'm a dab hand at these, plenty experience from the time the kids were little and someone gave us the easiest recipe in the world and we've been whipping them up ever since. Sometimes for parties, sometimes for weekends, sometimes for weddings, sometimes just for those dark wet days when nothing quite hits the spot like the gooey dark rich chocolately monsters that are my friends perfect brownies. 

Now I'm thoughtful as I make these having just wrenched a fresh egg from under the chooks arse in the garden. Yes, we are on days like this a very messy domestic goddess, or at least from the outside world that's how we look. The lamb shanks are on the range bubbling away, rosemary, garlic and shallots all doing their thing in the very beautiful cast iron pot, the colour of aubergine (the pot not the shanks, well not yet anyway.).  Dogs are walked, hens are fed, laundry is folded. Kitchen still looks like a work in progress but hey, I'm an artist in here I tell myself.

So the brownies, I'm baking them today not for church, not for school, not for the kids, not for the rellies, I'm baking them for my recovery group. A way to celebrate quietly with other humans who know what its like to be clutched to the heart by behaviours that become so compelling that you just can't help yourself. So today I celebrate, and I am celebrating quietly in real life that I've not drunk any wine for 60 whole days.

Sixty Days no wine, and I am still able to breathe, who knew?

Why so quiet I hear you ask? Well, no one really knows what kind of a problem I had. No one knew, really, the extent of my drinking. No one knows I've stopped aside you lovely lot and one real life friend. One, and she's not taking it too well. But, lets hope she adjusts to this sober me. I hope so.

A while ago, possibly years, I knew that alcohol and I were not really friends. I drank more than I wanted. I embarrassed myself often, when one wee drink let to several, the paranoia the next morning was crippling, and yet I carried on. I've met friends for a quick drink and gone home rat-arsed on the train. For me the compulsion to drink until I feel quiet in my head, is overwhelming. I drink when I'm happy, I drink when I'm sad. I drink with friends, sure, but mostly I drink alone. Here at this kitchen table, I'd have a glass of wine at gone five, possibly six. No harm in that I hear you say. Well maybe if I left it at one drink, maybe no harm. Maybe if I didn't drink everyday, maybe no harm. But, for me one drink always leads to many more.  Hardly anyone knows except me, how much I drank. And, I don't exaggerate when I say a bottle of wine a night and some became more and more normal for me. Everyone does it I told myself. Everyone.

But, I'm finding out slowly but surely whilst my behaviour isn't abnormal, women of my age (46 3/4) can be prone to drinking after a busy day, stressful work, noisy but adorable kids, partner with spikey cactus pants on, lonely, overwhelmed, dealing with issues their poor brain just can't cope with.  Lots of people drink, some have issues like mine. I'm not alone. That was a surprise. Some people can drink a couple drinks and stop, I'm learning I can't. To the outside world, I appear normal, or slightly normal anyway. Domestic goddess (I think not), good mother, capable lady, happily married, just don't look right into my eyes, don't see the cracks in it all.

Living a 24/7  kind of life trying to be and do the best for everyone else, sometimes it seems, we get a bit lost. And, for a short while wine stops the chatter, dulls the problems, silences the issues we've hidden for so long. For a short while it works. But after a while, we need more and more. After a while, this 'mute button a the bottom of a bottle of Chardonnay' pushes back. It takes our sleep, it makes us anxious, raises our paranoia and leaves us feeling betrayed alone and yet the compulsion to drink more of it, is overwhelming.

And, so we try and stop. The wine bites back, we manage a day maybe two and then we find we've forgotten how hollow that 'mute' can be. We try again to drink, this time moderately. Quite frankly for me moderating is about as much use as a chocolate teapot. I just can't do it. Actually I'm now more frightened of moderating than I am of staying sober. Well at least for today. So for now, quietly from here, I hold out my chocolate brownie to you to say thank you for those who've supported me along this road so far.

So in my best Scottish accent (which isn't very good at all) I say to you all 'Mon, ben the hoose, come bide a while, sit doon, hay a sonsie wee seat, mon lets raise a wee cuppy to sixty days aff the fawing doon juice'.

[Come, through the house, stay a while, sit down, have a comfy seat. Come raise a cup of tea to sixty days off the wine'.

Thank you for the sober tools I've learnt from friends throughout the world, for a really unsavoury and yet calming introduction to Wolfie, that voice in my head that tells me I'm broken and useless and rubbish and if I have a glass of wine, I'll forget it all. Well isn't he a bag of shit. Who knew that wasn't really my best self looking after me? Thank you all for showing me, whilst its hard, there's more to life than escaping into a wine glass. Small steps but for today, we celebrate. With tea, obviously, not wine. Even if Wolfie tells us that celebrating being sober with a glass of wine is the right thing to do. Erm, no, he's wrong. Brownies all round I say. Thank you. I'm off to my meeting, brownies in hand, smiling at sixty days. I'm actually proud. 

Lamb shanks, garlic, rosemary, winter punch (not red wine) and veg. YUM it was too.

A wee quiet celebration tea later on, lamb shanks, my favourites. He'll ask what the occasion is, very decadent lamb shanks on a Wednesday. I'll just mumble, thought we could do with a treat, why not. He's noticed the reduction in my wine scoffing, but not the extent of the problem, still my secret.

Could I be you? Probably not, your kitchen is probably tidier, But I know right now, I'm no longer alone with that nagging voice in my head telling me that a glass of wine will solve everything. I'm learning it won't.

ETA Brownie recipe here. Thanks for asking.