Sabotage and an unfunny 'joke' that ends up in a falling out.

Be warned:  Large rant ahead!

I think I've explained in a previous blog that my step-dad (I call him Dad) is a pretty heavy drinker.  To be honest, he's a bit of a dick when he's drunk (hah!  listen to me being a hypocrite).  My mother does drink alcohol, but (as she tells me often) not very often and she knows her limits.  To be fair, I've not seen my mother drunk for quite a while.

Someday, I might write a post about an incident a good few years ago that involved The Parents and Too Much Booze.  This was before alcohol became a problem for me.

Anyway, The Parents, myself and Mr W used to often get together on a Saturday night at each others houses for 'nibbles' and, of course, lots of booze (with the exception of Mr W who mostly drank very little).

About a year ago, the hubby and I started to put the brakes on these get togethers mainly because we got fed up with my step-dad and his behaviour.  I think he has the notion that if it's for free you can fill your boots.  He'd guzzle those cans of lager like it was going out of fashion.  Then he'd get all repetitive, sloppy and slurry.  Then he would be over the top and then belligerent.  For some reason I would always watch my intake of wine on these nights - probably because I was conscious that my husband and mother would be able to see exactly what I was drinking.

So, since I stopped drinking we haven't had a 'get together night'.  Dad has been at us for ages to organise one.  I decided that I was 'strong' enough to resist the wine witch so I organised a night at The Parents.  I explained to my mother that I hadn't drunk booze for some time and I was quite happy as I was, so I'd bring my own sparkling elderflower cocktail drink that I make myself.  Luckily, mother didn't press me too much about the not drinking thing.  Whilst I know she's aware of my dependency on alcohol, I've never really spoken to her about it and I have certainly never announced my intentions to never drink again to her or my Dad, although they do know that I'm off the booze.  I also knew that we could leave when we wanted to.

On Saturday night, off we went to The Parents.  Mr W had decided not to drink alcohol - he said it wouldn't be fair on me, which was very nice of him - so we arrived with my A F cocktail kit and his bottle of Coca Cola.

Straight off the bat, my Dad tried to pressure me into having a glass of wine.  When I said no thanks, he made me a wine spritzer anyway.  I explained again (feeling awkward) that I wasn't drinking any alcohol because I didn't like it anymore.  Mr W piped up and made up the excuse that I was the designated driver that night in case we had to be taxi drivers for the girls.

The rest of the night went well after that.  I noticed that my mother seemed to drink quite a bit (she had a couple of glasses of wine but then moved onto vodka and tonic because the wine was giving her heartburn) but she tried some of the Elderflower and apple cocktail that I had made.  My Dad on the other hand drank like a fish.  As the night wore on, my Dad started to get on everyone's nerves a bit.  (I know, I'm coming across as being really intolerant of him and I know I'm being a massive hypocrite .... I just can't stand that sort of behaviour anymore)  The husband and I said we'd have one more game of cards then we'd best get away home.  I got up to go into the kitchen to get the remainder of my jug of cocktail out of the fridge, poured some into my glass and went to sit back down with everyone else in the diningroom.  I took a sip of my cocktail and swallowed.  It was only then that I realised that it had alcohol in.  I could taste vodka.  I literally felt sick.  My husband said that I physically turned white.

I calmly put my glass down and asked "Who put vodka into my cocktail?".  I could tell immediately by the look on her face that it wasn't my mother.  She asked to try it and agreed there was vodka in it.  She then got up and checked her bottle of vodka that in the fridge.  She said it looked like some had been emptied out.  There was only my dad who could have done it.  I asked him why.  He laughed and said "Fancy that, pouring yourself a sly vodka and blaming me!".  Of course, my husband looked at me so I said that I was hardly going to pour myself a sly vodka and then announce that someone had spiked my cocktail!  My dad then said it "was just a joke".  Of course, I told him that it wasn't funny in the slightest and that he had no right to do what he did.

Unfortunately, it did turn a bit ugly.  My mother seemed to side with my step-dad that it was just a bit of fun.  They couldn't really see what the problem is.  I told them that they had no right to try and trick me.  My god - what if I had been really struggling?  I could have just drank it and said nothing and put myself right back at square one!

We left pretty sharpish, particularly after my mother said that it wouldn't have been an issue if I wasn't a plonky (her actual words unfortunately).  I said that seeing as she was talking about plonkies, she should take the opportunity and look closer to home.  My husband called the pair of them a disgrace.

I admit that when I got in the car, I cried my eyes out.  I am so disgusted and disappointed in my parents.  I'm especially disappointed that my mother can come out with such a nasty bitchy comment - drunk or not.

Even though my dad has told my sister that I snuck a drink myself and blamed him (WTF!), I have not spoken to The Parents since.  I can't.  I am too angry with them and I think I may be for some time.  They have also not contacted me.

I will not allow that one sip of booze to set me back.  It tasted bloody vile BTW.

Who the hell gave him the right to try and sabotage my sobriety?

Should I expect an apology from the parents or rise above this shitty behaviour and forget about it?  You know - pretend nothing has happened?  I don't know.  I need to take some more time to think it over.

It's a new day, it's a new life ......

This morning as I left the house (in a rush as usual) it was still pretty dark and it was 'sleeting', windy and cold.  My younger daughter who hadn't yet left the house for work shouted "Love you Mum!" at me and as I got into the car I was suddenly hit by the realisation that I feel truly 'alive'.  I appreciate everything that I have in my life all the more now that I am AF and have broken free of those chains that held me back.

A song that I love 'Feeling Good' (Sung originally by Nina Simone and then by Michael Buble and Muse) popped into my head - in particular the first two verses that I know off by heart:  

Birds flying high

You know how I feel

Sun in the sky

You know how I feel

Breeze driftin' on by

You know how I feel

It's a new dawn

It's a new day

It's a new life

For me

And I'm feeling good

Now that I am sober, these are some of the things in life that are much, much better:

• The relationship with my husband and children.  Even after all I have put them through, they still love me.  This in itself has made me love them even more.
• My memory.  I can remember conversations I've had the night before.  I can remember the arrangements I have made - no more blackouts for me.
• My health.  Although I've put on loads of weight (I'm not worrying about that at the minute), my general health is tons better.  No more pains in my liver and kidney area (or chest for that matter).  I look healthier.  My skin has a glow.  My hair is better.  I've not had a cold yet either - despite lots of other people around me having one (I usually catch everything going).  My anxiety has all but disappeared.
• My finances.  I'm not spending a fortune on booze (or cigarettes either).  I don't feel anxious anymore about how much money is in the bank.  
• I can stay awake longer than 9pm at night, which means I can enjoy a chill night watching a film .... All the way though!!! .... Without passing out pissed.  
• My physical relationship with my husband.  I hated not being able to remember if me and my husband had had sex the night before.  Towards the end of my drinking, we hardly ever had sex (that's all it became ...).  I may have well  have not been there.... I was probably as animated as a blow up doll!

And, I love this time of year!  The time of year when it is changing from Autumn into Winter.  Frosty mornings, a nip in the air.  In the past, I've been too preoccupied to really take note of the weather.  

It's a new dawn, it's a new day, it's a new life .... And I'm feeling good!

OBD (Obsessive Booze Disorder)

Using the title 'My OBD (Obsessive Booze Disorder), may seem like I am taking the piss out of people who suffer from Obsessive Compulsive Disorder.  I'm not, because, to me, I DID obsess about alcohol - from the minute I woke up to the minute I passed out in bed .... and then usually at 3am, 3.30am, 4.00am - until I would give in and get up and............

It wasn't just that I thought about booze, it was also what I did.

Usually, my first thoughts would be "Urgh, I feel crap", followed by "Shit, what happened last night?  What did I do?".  I wasn't an aggressive drunk, or sloppy.  When I'd had a lot to drink at home, I would usually be quiet.  I was conscious of the fact that I slurred and repeated myself, so I just shut-up.  I tended to usually just go to bed incredibly early and pass out.  Although sometimes one of my children would take the opportunity to have a go.  This might have ended up in a slanging match, but I never listened to them and, mostly, I couldn't remember what had been said anyway.

But, sometimes I'd wake up with that feeling in the pit of my stomach that something had happened.  I would check my mobile phone messages - who had I drunk texted?  What had I said?  I'd check Facebook - what status had I put on?  On whose status had I commented?  But worse of all, I would wonder - had there been a falling out with me and the girls or me and Mr W?  Sometimes, I would just know something had happened, but could I hell remember what.  I would then spend some time treading on eggshells.  Eventually I started to make notes on my phone if one of my girls had said something I  didn't like.  These notes were more often than not illegible.

At work, I would obsess over whether I smelled like stale booze (I most probably did).  Out would come the breath fresheners.  Out would come the anxiety.  Without fail, I'd promise to myself that I wouldn't drink that night.  A little later I'd promise that I wouldn't drink as much.  Then I would spend a lot of time thinking about how much I could drink and where could I get it from this time.  I'd already been to the corner shop two times in a row.  Should I try the one slightly out of town?  It was only a little detour and I hadn't been there for three days.

I also had a horrendous obsession with my husband's shift pattern for work.  This was all to do with how much alcohol I could drink... Nothing else.  If he was on an early shift, I'd have to plan more carefully.  I'd pray he would send me a text to say he'd gone back to bed for an hour or so.  I'd encourage him to have an early night.  On these nights I would have to slow my drinking down so that I wouldn't be completely out of it by 8pm.  I hated early shifts just like I hated his long weekends off.  They interrupted by drinking you see.  I would inwardly cheer when he was working a late shift. It was even better if I knew my children weren't home for the night (they are young adults now).  I could do what the fuck I liked.  It was not uncommon for me to be rat-arsed by about 7.30pm.  This is usually when the fall in the garden and whatnot happened.

So, you see, that's why I refer my problem with alcohol as my OBD.  My life revolved around it.  It was all I could think about.  Perhaps, if you are reading this, you might be nodding your head in agreement to some of these things?

But, do you know what?  Becoming sober has got to be one of the best things that I have ever done.

No longer do I have to worry about what stupid comment or status I put on Facebook (or who I accidentally Facetimed from my iPad).  No longer do I have to worry that I am still drunk from the night before or if I smell of stale booze.  My local corner shops have probably forgotten who I am (I hope so).  I still have a huge interest in my husband's work shifts, but for all of the right reasons:  Like if he has an early finish.... He can get the tea on the go!

I know that I am not out of the woods just yet and I have a long, long way to go.  I have to give myself credit for getting this far.  I can be sober.  I want to be sober.

My life truly began again 142 days ago.

If you happen to be reading this blog (thank you!) and haven't yet tried being sober, give it a whirl.  Re-start your life.

Why did I become so dependent on booze?

I've been pondering this question for a long, long time... Way before I actually quit drinking alcohol.

I know that I am just like lots of other people out there in that I don't really know the answer to my question; why did I become dependent on alcohol?  I think that in order to begin to answer that question, I have to ask myself why did I drink in the first place?

To help myself answer this I have to delve into my past a little.

When I was younger (late teens and my twenties) I didn't even like alcohol at all.  I rarely touched the stuff.  Partly because I loathed the smell and taste, but also because of my family background.  The following is absolutely not intended to be a sob story, nor an excuse... but it does help me explain to myself why I saw myself as being normal and why it took me a long time to realise that I had a real problem with alcohol.

Both of my maternal grandparents are/were heavy drinkers.  Spirits mostly.  When I was growing up, I remember that we would visit my grandparents every Sunday and have lunch at their house.  There would be occasional fights and falling outs and my mother and step-father would grab us three kids and leave my grandparents house... Usually with the threat that they would never see us again.  As I got older, I realised that these spats always happened when too much vodka or whisky had been consumed by my grandparents and my step-father.  For some reason, I cannot recall my mother being drunk.  Perhaps she was, perhaps she wasn't.  I cringe now thinking about how many times we were driven home by my drunk stepdad.

I clearly remember a time, in my early twenties, when I had arranged to meet my mother and grandmother for lunch and a coffee.  My grandmother had sunglasses on and didn't take them off.  When I got a closer look, I could see she had a black eye.  Curious and naive, I asked her how she got it.  She said something about walking into something.  Later, I asked my mother who told me the truth.  My grandparents had gotten into an argument whilst drunk and my grandad had beaten up my grandma.  This had been a regular occurrence when my mother was growing up and when I was very young but, apparently, hadn't happened for quite some time.... Which brings me to my biological father.

My biological father is also a very heavy drinker.  He is also a class A arsehole and I have nothing to do with him.  I do know that he beat the shit out of my mother when they were married.  If me or my sister cried and our mother couldn't make us stop, he would take his frustration out on her.  Even back in the 1970's it wasn't easy to just leave an abusive spouse, but eventually she did it and eventually met and married my step-father who, yep, you guessed it - is a heavy drinker!

There's a bit of a pattern here isn't there? I think I may need to write a further post about this later.  (I can't believe how I've turned out so normal!  :-) LOL )

I can't say that me and my siblings ever wanted for much in the way of material things.  Mentally, things were very different.  I am the eldest child, so I was the one who should know better.  I was the example.  I was also the one who had to calm and comfort my younger siblings when my mother and step-father argued.  I was the one who would pluck up the courage to tiptoe downstairs and ask them why were they screaming and shouting?  Why were  things being broken?  I'd usually end up getting the blame for the argument starting in the first place.

In those days, 'dad' would go to the pub at the weekend.  I could never understand why my mother had to wait up on him coming home.  There would always be an argument and she would usually start it.  Why couldn't she just go to bed and ignore him?

She did leave him once "because of his drinking".   It was not long before Christmas as I remember.  She took all three of us and we went to stay in some hostel type thing for a little while.  No-one learned any lessons because nothing changed.  Dad stopped going to the pub at the weekend and drank at home instead.

Even when I moved out into my own home and started my family, I didn't escape my parents' sagas....  From having to confiscate car keys because he had driven to my house drunk, from receiving drunk phone calls in the early hours of the morning.  My step-father became very secretive about his drinking:  hiding his empty cans of lager in various places, hiding bottles of spirits in the boot of his car.

You'd think that this type of upbringing would put me off drinking alcohol wouldn't you?  I suppose it did for a long time.  I particularly disliked the way my mother and step-father behaved when booze was involved.  But, as I touched on above, my mother didn't actually drink a huge amount.

I always swore that I would never ever end up like them, but I suppose I did - just without the arguments and the violence.  I ended up just like my stepdad in a way, but I think I was even more secretive than him!

In the beginning, when I did start to drink alcohol, I liked the way a glass of wine made me feel.  It made me feel relaxed and sophisticated.  I can't pinpoint the time when a casual glass of wine turned into that casual bottle.  Life happened, shit happened... It just crept up.

Drinking became my 'go to' method of relaxing after a stressful day at work, then eventually any day after work.  I needed it to help me go to sleep.  Then I needed more of it to help me relax and more to help me sleep.

I liked the taste of my wine.  I didn't like the taste of neat vodka, but I drank it anyway... It was all about the relaxation and sleep.

I used my grandparents and step-fathers drinking as a gauge against mine.  I reckoned to myself that I wasn't as bad as them.  I didn't cause arguments, I didn't have fights.

I realise now that I was just as bad as them.

So, in answer to my original question to myself (why did I become dependent on alcohol), I still really don't know.  I don't think it was just about relaxing... I do think that my upbringing may not have helped, although I understand that I chose to drink alcohol to excess.

I think this is something I have to look at in more detail.

But, in the meantime, I hit my 20 week mark of being sober yesterday.  I feel good.  I feel proud.

Grrr! I am so mad with myself

Today, I feel so wound up and angry - at myself.

I had arranged to go and visit a longstanding friend after work and have tea last night.  I had purposely arranged it for a week day night because I would have my car and wouldn't be tempted to have 'just one' teeny weeny glass of wine.

Everything went really well.  The fact that my friend and her husband were drinking wine (and lots of it too) really did not bother me at all.  I was absolutely not tempted in the slightest, but at about 8.30pm, their tipsiness was beginning to get on my nerves a bit.  I know I'm being a bit hypocritical here, but the husband began to repeat himself quite a bit.

I took this as my cue to depart and I smugly drove home.

My smugness stopped when I walked into the house.  My husband looked me up and down and came over to give me a kiss - with a sniff just before the kiss.  "Had a drink?" he asked.  I immediately said no, but do you know when you get that feeling that you are protesting too much?  I felt like that.  "Mmm, must be garlic or something I can smell then" he said.  I told him I'd just had flavoured water.

I just made myself a cup of tea and took myself upstairs to read my book for a bit and do some blog reading.

So today, I'm angry.  A little bit with the husband for not trusting me, but mainly I am really mad with myself.

I did this.  No-one or anything else.  Me.

I came across a post written by Untipsy Teacher's husband in December 2015:  http://tipsynomore.blogspot.co.uk/2015/12/guest-post-by-mr-untipsy.html

The post gives a very good description of what it feels like for the other half.  For a long time, there is always that little bit of doubt in the back of their head.

I have absolutely no right being narked with my husband.  I cannot blame him for not fully trusting me.

I have to be sober for a lot longer than what I have been to earn this trust that I am seeking.  I have to realise that I may never earn it.  I certainly won't if I ever give in and drink alcohol again.

That will teach me for being smug!

New Christmas Party Animal Required!

Tomorrow, I will be 18 weeks (!!!!) - that's 126 days - sober.  I feel good.  It is so lovely to not be thinking about booze all day everyday.  Those little niggles of feeling "I could moderate", "If only I could have ONE glass" are becoming rarer and rarer.

Our work Christmas party has always been a bit of a raucous affair.  A never ending supply of bottles and bottles of red and white wine sit at the table/s.  Your glass is never empty.  In fact, I don't think mine ever got to be half empty without it being topped up by either myself or someone else.

M was always our resident work party animal.  It didn't have to be the Christmas party - any work/social gathering would do.  I used to watch M with great interest because I could never ever pin point the moment she switched from being slightly tipsy to absolutely blotto.   I also always thought to myself "I'm not as bad as her". 

M was always the life and soul of the party, the one who was guaranteed to make an arse of herself and get away with it.  She was always "great fun".  Until she'd have that one too many.  She'd become even more demonstrative, the arms would be waving everywhere, she would become even more touchy feely and she spoke complete gibberish.  She became overbearing.  Yes, she was fabulous fun and great entertainment for everyone, except for me and a few other work colleagues who saw her antics as being over the top and, quite frankly, a showing up. 

Yes, that's right, even an alcohol dependent like me found her embarrassing.  That really makes me a bit of a hypocrite doesn't it?

One year, at a retirement do at a pub/restaurant in the middle of nowhere, M went missing.  Me and another work colleague looked everywhere we could think of - I even ventured into the men's toilets.  We did get very worried about her and we thought perhaps she might have fallen somewhere and hurt herself or wandered off.  The mini bus that we had booked that was taking her and some others home had to leave without her.  Eventually, M wandered around the corner looking a bit dishevelled.  She completely oblivious to the fact that everyone had been worried shit less.  She also had no idea where she had been.  It cost the company £50.00 to get a taxi to come and take her home.  The next day, at work, she remembered nothing.  But... (in a sarcastic tone) it was all good fun!

Unfortunately M died suddenly a couple of years ago.  Just in her early 60's and her big personality is still a big miss. 

However, M's passing left a vacancy for the post of 'Work Party Animal'.

I have always consoled myself with the fact that I always held my shit together at the Christmas Party (or any other work do).  I always made a point of never getting in to such a state that I made a fool of myself.  Although, there was that time that, after the work Christmas party, I got home and decided to let the dogs out in the back garden.  I forgot there was a step into it and promptly fell over (this has happened on more than one occasion).  I eventually hauled myself up and staggered back in to the house with one half of my body covered in mud.  I was so incapable that my younger daughter had to help me take of my dress, shoes and tights.  I then went straight to bed.  It was 6pm.  However, I digress and, anyway, that happened at home and not at work, so it doesn't count - right?

Anyway, at last years Christmas party I was hailed the new 'Work Party Animal' after:

1.  Going to the loo and coming back with the back of my dress tucked into my tights.

2.  Trying to pour a glass of wine with the cap still on the bottle.

3.  Not realising how much I'd drank, going outside for a cigarette and promptly falling over onto my hands and knees.

I generally just made an arse of myself.

Funnily enough, this was one of the scarce times when I remembered exactly what had happened the day after.  To say I was mortified was an understatement.

I really don't want to romanticise my drinking past or make my actions humorous.  They were just plain stupid and embarrassing.  And, I really did not like this new title.

So, this year, there is a new opening for the work Christmas Party Animal at my firm.  I no longer smoke and I no longer drink alcohol and I'd rather be that boring fart sitting in the corner than that pissed idiot on her hands and knees on the floor showing off her arse.

I do admit to already feeling a little nervous about our upcoming Christmas party.  Are people going to try to persuade me to have booze?  I'm strong enough to say "no thanks".  I'm also a little excited.  This year I can just coast along and enjoy myself.  I can then go home and stay awake until well after 6pm!

My dirty little secret

I've always felt slightly relieved to know that my 'dirty little secret' was just that:  mine.  The fact that I've had a drinking problem and my reasons for becoming sober are only known to my nearest and dearest and I have never really broadcasted that I am now AF to other family members, friends and acquaintances.  I've told my best friend that I've stopped drinking but I haven't been completely open and honest.  She doesn't know the depths that I sank to.

Last night, after work, I bumped into an old friend that I haven't seen for months.  I'll call her B.  We had the usual chat .... Kids are ok, life is fine, etc.  B suggested that we get together for a good catch up and a bottle or two of wine.  Great, I said.  A catch up would be good ... We could go to xxxx for something to eat and they do a great range of mocktails.  Mocktails?  She said.  So, I explained that I'd given up the wine.... Better for my health, better sleep, etc, etc.  I thought you'd piled on the weight, she said.... You did like a good drink didn't you?  Thank god I'm not like that!

EXCUSE ME?  I was speechless, humiliated, horrified and upset.  All in one.  I said well, I feel much better now for not drinking, but didn't tell her to eff-off.  How could I?  She was speaking the truth, no matter how harsh.  I made my excuses, told her I'd give her a call and said cheerio.

I got home and cried.  Luckily, no-one was home.  I felt so sorry for myself.  I felt almost like I'd been caught out - in the middle of swigging from a stashed bottle of booze. 

At about 9pm last night, B rang me.  Drunk (It is so strange to listen to someone who is drunk when you are sober - was I like that?).  She accused me of being 'holier than thou' about not drinking and who was I to suggest that she drank too much?  I was the alkie, not her.  She knew when to stop.  She remembers the time when I was at her house for a catch up and tea and drank a bottle and a half of wine (so did she and she had a couple of whiskeys).  Blah, blah, blah.  I apologised for upsetting her and said I'd speak to her today.

This morning I am mad with myself.  Why did I apologise to her?  I realise that she was drunk and had more than likely twisted everything out of proportion.  But still, I didn't say anything out of turn.  I suspect it was her own booze demon at play.  I do know that B likes her whiskey and likes her pills.  But I have always thought who am I to judge?  I get that, just like I think she may have a problem with the booze, she thinks exactly the same about me.  Although, I would never ever intentionally force my new found views onto anyone.

I had thought all along that my dirty little secret was just that.  I had thought that I had hidden my problem well.  Perhaps I didn't.  Perhaps it wasn't a secret after all.  It is humiliating to know that other people may have recognised my drink problem too.

Having had time to reflect this morning, I don't think I need people like that in my life at the minute.  That seems harsh, I know.  Perhaps B does need a bit of encouragement to cut down or stop drinking.  But, that's not my responsibility.  I'm so early on in my sobriety that I'm not strong enough for that.

I had an absolutely crap nights sleep mulling over all of this.  Re-running my conversations with B, I should have said this, I should have said that. 

What worried me more is after all of these days sober, the wine witch was tapping on my shoulder suggesting that I should try moderation.  No, no, no.  I can't.

I feel like I have taken a step back.  I had begun to think less and less about the booze.

I have to get around this, because I cannot go through life avoiding people who may be a 'trigger'.

Secrets, lies and self destruction

I have now been sober for 114 days and I can honestly say that I'm beginning to think less and less about alcohol.  I'm hoping that this is a good sign that I'm 'getting there', although I am under no illusion that I'm cured or over it.  I realise that I will always have a problem with alcohol and I can never moderate.  I know that just one drink of booze will lead to the bottle and then, ultimately destruction.  It's not that I've been constantly thinking about having or needing a drink, but I do think a lot about what I would have done in the past in certain situations;  you know... Hard day at work?  I'd rush home and pour a drink down my neck.  Good day at work?  I'd rush home and pour a drink down my neck.

'Mummy was a secret drinker' posted a great post today about alcohol and anxiety.  I've been thinking quite a bit about this subject since becoming sober.  For the last couple of years, when my drinking began to get really out of control, I suffered a bit from anxiety, particularly at work.  At first, I wondered if my boss, colleagues or clients could tell I had a drink problem... Could they see it?  Could they smell stale wine?  I then got to the stage where I got so nervous in front of my boss that I started to dread having our usual catch up meeting in the morning, I'd have a hot flush, I got that 'fight or flight' feeling, I felt faint.  I also started to have problems writing in front of my boss, for example filling out a form, writing a message or even signing my name.  I felt dreadful.  This eventually spread to me feeling like this in front of clients, so I would organise appointments where my colleague would deal with them.

At home, I would worry when my husband went upstairs.  I could hear him wandering about.  What was he doing?  Was he searching my wardrobe?  What about my shoe store?  Shit, did I get rid of that empty wine/vodka bottle that I hid under the bed?  More often than not, I would wander upstairs casually after him.... To get ready for bed, go to the loo or whatever.  Just to make sure he wasn't looking where he shouldn't have been.

At work I'd worry about what my husband was doing.  Was he going through my things looking for evidence?  Would he find it?

This was on top of the constant thinking about when I'd get my next drink.  Would it look odd to the cashier at the supermarket if I bought a bottle of wine, a small bottle of vodka and a bottle of water (to decant the vodka into of course)?  How much could I drink before Mr W got in from work, but still appear sober?  The usual stuff.

It's hardly surprising that I felt this way.  I was self destructing and imploding and, if I am honest, something was going to have to give.  It was all of my own doing.  I was leading a life full of lies and secrets (my own of course).  My life was one big fat lie.

Eventually, something did give.  Something that could have destroyed everything I hold dear.

Now, I am 114 days sober.  Apart from feeling guilty and ashamed for my past behaviour (which I am working on), I feel great.  My anxiety has gradually disappeared.  Why?  I no longer have those secrets and lies to hold.  I am free and working on staying there.  Most of all, I feel relief.  A burden has been lifted from my shoulders.  It feels bloody fantastic!

I'm on my high horse - a 'Meal Deal' Gripe

I'm annoyed  ... very annoyed!  Probably unnecessarily so ........... but:

Prior to giving up the booze, I used to LOVE the Marks and Spencer's Two Dine for £10.00 meal deal (with FREE wine .. in large writing or non-alcoholic beverage in smaller writing).  I used to love it so much that I would frequently buy 2 or 3 'meal deals' at once - because the wine was FREE!  I would sometimes go for the most expensive one, but often I'd go for the one that had the highest alcohol content.  I didn't matter to me that it tasted of rancid vinegar ..... it was FREE WINE!

Anyway, since being sober I've kept away from these kind of deals.  Partially to keep away from temptation, but also because I came to the realisation that deals such as this are encouraging the drinking of alcohol.  Today, though, I thought that I am strong enough (after 110 days sober) to not be bothered or tempted by the alcohol.

I wasn't remotely bothered by the booze which really impressed me, but what got me on my High Horse was the lack of choice in the non-alcoholic section!

On a tiny little display located well away from the FREE WINE stood three lonely double packs of Coffee Spritzer!  Coffee Spritzer???? Does anyone drink coffee spritzer?  The shelves that were meant to be housing the Elderflower Presse or the Orange and Mango Presse were empty.

When I went to locate a helpful floor supervisor to ask what other non-alcoholic alternatives they had rather than coffee mixed with cold sparkling water, I was 'ahem' helpfully told "That's what there is".  So, still wanting the meal deal, I asked (nicely) if they had anything else in their stockroom - you know, such as the Elderflower or Orange and Mango Presse?  Mr Helpful Floor Supervisor skipped off to their stockroom to check for me (okay - I lied about that bit.  He stomped off).  After only making me wait for 10 minutes (not an exaggeration), he came back brandishing a pack of two cartons of still lemonade like a trophy.

By now, I was beginning to seethe just a little bit about the lack of choice, so I asked if that was it - they had two separate bottles of Elderflower Presse on their shelves - couldn't I have two of those?

"No" was the reply.  "This is all there is.  Don't you want to just get the wine?  I explained (not smuggly at all) that I don't drink alcohol.  His response?  "Put it away for Christmas then." WHAT!!

Not wanting to make a scene and draw attention to myself, I took the lemonade.

There are two things that have infuriated me this afternoon:

1.  The lack of choice for those who choose not to drink booze.  (Actually, you are even penalised for not getting the FREE WINE - The wine costs about £7.00 whilst the non-alcoholic beverage costs £3.90 for a pack of two)

2.  The fact that I had to explain that I don't drink alcohol.  Had I not have been 'strong' enough, I could have easily have been tempted to get the FREE WINE to put it away and use it as a Christmas present.  Would it have lasted till Christmas?  I hope it would have done, but I really, really do not want to put myself in that situation.

I think I may very well fire off an email to Marks and Spencers to complain about their lack of choice.

I don't drink that much ....

That's what I used to tell myself.  I was such a liar.

I'm not as bad as xxxx.  That was something else I would tell myself.   Truth be known:  I did and I was (I was probably worse). 

Red wine was eventually my poison of choice (together with the sneaky bottles of vodka).  I wasn't fussy on which kind or what price.  I could just as soon polish off a supermarket own brand priced at £4.99 or a bottle that cost £10.00 plus.  Towards the end of my drinking days, I went for the cheaper brands but always, always, checked the alcohol percentage content; 12% ?  Nah - no good!  13% - Ok!, 14% - great!!!.  14.5%?  KER BLOODY CHING

A good while ago I was reading One Crafty Mother's blog and read a post when she described scrabbling around in her bathroom cupboard because she knew she had filled an empty bottle of water with wine and had hidden it there.  When she found it, she found she had already drunk it.  She did this so it would appear to her husband that she wasn't drinking as much.   She also hid a half empty bottle in the washing machine.  I remember vividly thinking "my god, how far did she sink into alcoholism?" 

Thinking back now, I did pretty much the same and more.  Towards the latter stages of my excessive drinking, I would often go and purchase two mini bottles of wine from the supermarket at the end of the working day and decant them into an empty water bottle.  I'd go elsewhere and buy the regular bottle.  I would then dispose of the empty mini bottles and stash the water bottle in my handbag (I purposely used large handbags).  No-one at home would ever dream of going into my bag, so I knew I was 'safe'.  Eventually, the handbag would wind up upstairs - "I'm off for a soak in the bath" was the favoured excuse.  I don't need to explain the rest.

Toward the end it wasn't the extra wine I was buying.  I started to buy those little plastic miniature bottles of vodka.  As is typical, eventually this didn't do the trick either.  I graduated to buying the quarter bottles of vodka (as well as the wine of course) and decanting this into a water bottle......  I reasoned that it was cheaper to do it this way - the quarter bottle of vodka would last me for longer.... yeah, right!

Why?  Exactly the same reason as One Crafty Mother - so that I could lie about how much I was really drinking.  I was conscious of the fact that how much I was drinking was being 'noted' and I was desperate to hide this, so I demonstrated that "I don't drink that much" by 'only' drinking half of the bottle of wine, but then disappearing upstairs every so often for a mouth full of whatever was stashed away. 

Thinking back now, I cringe at how secretive and sneaky I was ... how all consuming having a problem with alcohol is.

I am so pleased that I am free!

A kick up the butt and feeling good!

After feeling so flat on Monday after getting to 100 days sober, I decided that I needed a kick up the arse.  That is what I have given myself:  I HAVE BEEN ALCOHOL FREE FOR 102 DAYS!!!! 

Yes, quite rightly I should feel shame for being a drunken wife, mother, sister, daughter, friend and work colleague.  But, I have to give myself the mind set that that is in the past.  I cannot undo the past, but I can make a better future by being sober, by being me, and by being free.

I have to start by saying "It feels wonderful to be sober!"

As well as the physical benefits, I truly feel free mentally:  No longer do I wake at 3am feeling like shit, promising to myself that I will never drink again,  No longer will I get to 4pm at work and think "roll on 5 o'clock when I can go home and have a glass of well deserved wine", no longer do I feel the need to clock watch and, if Mr W was home, wonder what he was thinking or wonder what he might say when I burst through the door after getting home from work immediately pouring myself a glass of wine .... because, you know, I'd had such a hard day at work and I deserved it.   No longer do I get to 8 o'clock (often earlier) and realise that I've sunk most of the bottle, that I only have an inch left in the bottom and haven't had enough yet.... I need more.  No longer do I have the blackouts.

Now, my mind is clearer.  I can hold and can remember conversations with my nearest and dearest.  If someone telephones me at 7.30pm I answer the phone and talk to them legibly.  I'm not thinking "Don't answer the phone, you're drunk, you're slurring ... pretend you are not in, pretend you haven't heard the mobile ring". 

I don't have that continuous anxiousness:  I feel like shit - do I look like it?  I feel shaky - are my hands shaking?  Do I smell of stale alcohol?

Overall, I feel relief.  I'm not worried.  It is a fantastic feeling.

I can also be called upon to be an impromptu taxi .... most recently I picked up my father who had been on a night out and took him home.  I picked up one of my girls instead of making her wait for public transport.

I don't have to be worried about whether or not I'm still over the limit in the morning ... or, on occasion, after a particularly large binge - probably still drunk.

I don't have to worry as much about the finances either.  I have that extra money from not buying the booze!

Physically, I look and feel much healthier.  I am not gaunt looking.  My eyes are bright and not bloodshot.  My skin tone has improved as have the eye bags - in fact, my husband has remarked on more than one occasion that I look radiant.  My sleeping pattern still isn't particularly great... I expected that I would sleep like a log.  I don't.  I still wake up several times during the night, but only briefly and I feel that the quality of my sleep is much much better.  I'm not wide awake at 3am in the morning and then getting up because I can't get back to sleep.  Most mornings, I still feel 'Ugh', but not for long.  I can cope with that.

The only 'slight' downside is that since stopping smoking in February and now stopping drinking booze, I have put on almost 3 stone in weight.  About half of that I badly needed.... the rest, not so much.  I am getting to the stage where I think I need to do something about it - laying off the ice cream would be a really good start.  I'm not going to fret too much about it though... after all, I HAVE BEEN SOBER FOR 102 DAYS!!

So, what's so special about reaching 100 days sober?

Yesterday, I had been sober for 100 days.  I wish I could say that that fact filled me with awe about how well I've done.  It didn't.

Sunday night, whilst tossing and turning in bed, I spent a lot of time thinking "tomorrow will be 100 days ..... yes?  and?  what about it?"

What is so special about this milestone?  Does it mean I'm cured?  Does it mean I can be a 'normal' drinker?  No, it absolutely does not.

Will my sobriety get any easier from now on?  Oh, I hope so.

I though I might feel a little different on Monday.  I didn't.  To be honest, I felt very 'flat' throughout the whole day.  I did try to think about how well I have done, but just couldn't.  All I can think about is what I was before and I remember the shame and the guilt.  How truly, truly horrible it must have been to live with me.

Surprisingly, when I first stopped drinking alcohol, I found it relatively easy.  I really expected the worst withdrawal symptoms... that I would experience horrendous headaches, I would feel like I had flu and that I may have the shakes a bit (I used to find that I was a bit shaky the in the morning after a drinking session).    I didn't have any of those.  What I did have was the longing and craving for alcohol - but, again, not too bad.  What I did in these circumstances was to think about my past behaviour.... what I had been like.... all the times I made an arse of myself, the blackouts, how awful I must have been.  I realise now that I've been concentrating on the bad things for too long and it's become a way of life to beat myself up every single day.

Quite rightly, I should be deeply ashamed and horrified, but I think that I should also should have made myself think more of the good things:  How much better I look and feel, how my husband and children have a wife and mother who is just 'there'.

I feel like I'm stuck in a bit of a rut and I need to take steps to train myself to think of the positive things of not drinking alcohol.  I need to pull the shutter down on those thoughts, but I don't think I deserve that just yet.

After reading various blogs and articles, I'm also wondering if I'm suffering from a bit of PAWS and a little bit of depression (caused by my negative thoughts).

Part of my problem is that I haven't shared my feelings with anyone.  I've caused my husband and children so much emotional pain in the past, I don't feel that I put this on their shoulders too.  I don't have many friends, but the one that I have 'confided' in doesn't know the half of how bad I really was.

I'm flagging and I know it.  But one thing is for sure - I do not want to drink alcohol.

Day 96 and still going strong (ish)............

I've just commented on Mummy was a secret drinker's most recent post:  "The best thing about being sober is".  Mine is that I am me again, I have my life back, my husband and children have me back.... I have a future.

I realised, having to provide my email address to make a comment, that I have somewhat neglected my blog.  I'm not quite sure of the reasons for this:  I have been very very busy with work and I'm pretty much exhausted by the time I get home and get tea out of the way.  My family also don't know that I've been keeping a blog so I can't really update it when I'm at home and they are there.  Also, the point of doing this blog was primarily to help support myself and to make myself accountable.  I'm not sure if I really need that.

So, I'm on day 96 and I feel so proud of myself.  It feels like I have been sober for ages.  Realistically, it isn't that long and I need to remember that my husband or children don't have short memories.  Nor do I.

I 'remember' all of those shameful, humiliating things I did.  Some I remember with clear clarity; That time when I put the dog out before going to bed, but being so rat-arsed that I fell over on the lawn - not just onto my hands and knees either.  I face planted the grass.  I was so out of it that I could barely get back up.  When I did, I fell again.  I had to crawl and pull myself up using the gate and then use the wall as a guide to get back into the house.  I staggered upstairs to bed and flaked (passed?) out.  Luckily, I was home alone so no-one saw.  I also didn't lock the back door.  I was also very fortunate that I didn't knock myself out or badly injure myself.  Even situations like this weren't enough to make me open my eyes to my problem.  Christ, what was wrong with me?

There are the times I don't remember, I just wondered where I got that big bruise on my leg from.

Some things I had to be reminded of.  It was these times when I felt really ashamed of myself.  In fact, I hated myself.  Unfortunately, I loved alcohol better than myself and better than my family.

When I take the time to reflect about how well I have done, my mind always turns to those dark times and I feel so guilty and ashamed of myself.  I'm not sure what I can do about this.  Will these feelings fade with time?

I'm still doing lots of blog reading.  It helps to enforce that I'm doing the right thing.  I am doing the right thing - for me:  because I want to.

Day 49

Day 49!  Seven whole weeks AF!

Last week I even managed another 'first' in my sobriety.  I had arranged for a friend to come over for a meal and for a catch up whilst Mr W was doing a late shift.  Wine has always been involved... Lots of it too.  As per my previous post, I had mentioned that I wouldn't be drinking alcohol.  On the morning of the night she was coming over I got a text asking if I minded if she brought herself a bottle.  "No, I don't mind" I said, while thinking fuck, this is going to be a real test.

I passed that test with flying colours.   The fact that she was drinking wine and I had my sparkling elderflower did not bother me at all.  She did ask if my not drinking was a fad/health kick or if it was a forever thing.  I explained that I was intending it to be a forever thing because I'd come to the conclusion that I was drinking way to much, I can't moderate and I was sick of looking and feeling like crap every day.  She didn't drink all of it and left a quarter of a bottle in my fridge when she went home.

That quarter bottle was still in the fridge the next morning and I realised that it had never even entered my head that I could have drunk it and no-one would have known it was me... Except me of course.  

When my hubby got up, he asked if I'd had a good night (reading between the lines .... Did you drink wine?).  I told him yes, I'd had a great night and it was completely AF.  With a great flourish (now it seems like It was with too much flourish), I got that bottle of out the fridge and tipped the remaining wine down the sink.  It smelled awful!

This last week, I have started to feel a little complacent about being sober.  I really don't think that I should be feeling that I'm fine, I'm over that little problem with alcohol that 'I had'.  I am never going to be over that 'little' problem.  It wasn't (isn't?) little it was BIG.

Whilst I feel and look much much healthier - those suitcases I was carrying under my eyes have gone and my face has a bit of radiance to it - I realise that I have mentally come to a point where I need to take stock and list those pro's and con's .. If only to help me realise why I shouldn't become too complacent.  I think to become so, may be a slippery slope to alcohol oblivion and I don't want that.

Sober Negativity

Day 38 now (yay!) ... I've noticed that I now have to think how many days I've been sober which, I hope is a good thing.

The last couple of days have been strange ones which have left me feeling a little 'flat' and have made me wonder "Am I going to become boring (being sober)?"

I think I've come to the point in my sobriety where I have to explain myself to others a little - as to why I'm not drinking alcohol.  I certainly do not want to say (admit?) that I am a raging alcoholic who cannot have just one drink, who blacks out most nights and does and says things that I cannot remember, but who still feels a huge sense of shame and disgust?  I know in reality that is exactly what I am (was) - but I don't want to put my hand up and admit that..... just yet.

I've had a couple of little conversations over the last few weeks with my boss where at the end of the day he's made the comment "You'll be rushing to the supermarket for that bottle of red now then?"  I did wonder whether I should just respond as I sometimes had - laugh and agree.  Sometimes I've  I have said "no - night off tonight".  Last week when I had the work function, I had the car as an excuse.  Last night, when I got the usual supermarket comment, I made the night off comment - which got the response "What!  Again?  On a health fad are we?"  In my mind I said:  Well, you see Mr Boss Man, for the last god knows how many years I've been a (I think) high functional alcohol dependant.  Many, many times I've felt like shit and I've had to drag myself into work.  In fact, on more than one occasion I've felt so bad I've pulled a sickie ...... remember back in March when I said I had food poisoning following a family birthday meal out?  Nope - I had a falling out with a couple of members of my family the day after the meal and I drank myself into oblivion during the day .... red wine was my poison of choice.  I did have sickness and diarrhoea on the Monday - but it was all to do with what I drank.  In fact Mr Boss Man you have entrusted me with some pretty big responsibilities.  I've carried out my duties but, again, on more than one occasion I've still been slightly tipsy from the night before."

What I actually said was "Well, yes I am actually.  I decided to stay off booze for a little while and, actually I quite like it."  I was met with an open mouthed stare.  Mr Boss Man is also a heavy drinker.

In the last couple of days I've also spoken to a good friend to organise a catch up.  I did warn that I wouldn't be boozing and outlined one or two reasons why.  I'm sure it wasn't really the case, but I could sense almost a disappointment.  I felt like I had to explain myself without the gory details.  In fact I think I went overboard in explaining... I probably sounded self righteous.  I'll learn!

Day 34...

I feel so proud that I am now on day 34 with no booze passing my lips.  For me, 34 days feels like an age but I think to my long suffering husband and children it feels just like what it is - 34 days ... no time at all.  It is a little disheartening.

I'm still getting the vibes that I still can't be quite 'trusted' - mainly from the husband.  While I fully understand where he is coming from (I have some very shameful half memories to remind me) it still smarts a little.

Some examples:

Last week Daughter number 2 asked what I would like for my birthday which is fairly soon.  I said I would like to buy myself some new boots and possibly a new jacket for the autumn - so a contribution towards that would be lovely.  D2 said she'd just give me some money then, husband said "just get a voucher for .... store or for the .......... shopping centre".  It crossed my mind then that he was thinking along the lines that I might use the money to buy booze!  That hurt....

Just a few days ago, I had gone to bed (before him) and was just putting a few things away and getting organised to get into bed with my book when he burst in through the bedroom door just as I was getting into bed and asked what I was doing.  I told him nothing - just getting sorted to get into bed.  He said he's heard me creeping around so I was doing something.  I wondered if he thought I'd gone to bed earlier than him (five minutes) so that I could have a drink of something that I had hidden away.  I suggested that if he didn't trust me then he was welcome to look anywhere he liked.

Last night I successfully managed a 'sober first':  I went out to an after work function to a cocktail bar.  When I first told the hubby my plans, I could see the cogs in his brain working.  I placated him by telling him that it was straight after work, I had the car, I wouldn't be staying for the duration and I WON'T BE AND DON'T WANT TO DRINK ANY ALCOHOL.  Despite my reservations and slight nervousness I went and I did it and ... it wasn't all that bad.  I even refused the persistent ramblings of a colleague to have a try of her gin cocktail.  I had a couple of very nice mocktails and I enjoyed myself.  I didn't experience the usual feelings of making sure I had enough to drink without it appearing that I was drinking a lot.  I actually liked being sober and - I wasn't the only one!  I got no urge to have just one.  Anyway, I got home feeling a little proud of myself.  The girls asked in an uninterested, bored way if I'd had a good time.  My husband sat and stared at me as if he was trying to see if I'd had a drink.  A short while later, I got a kiss - with a 'sniff'.  Not being sure just by looking at me if I'd had a drink he was trying to see if he could smell it.

Truthfully, that really but a downer on my night.  I do get exactly where he is coming from but I don't think he has grasped that I'm trying bloody hard and I don't want to drink booze.

I'm wondering if it's a 'timescale thing' too - I've gone x amount of days, when will I slip up and give in?

A better evening but I need sleep!

Last night went much much better than the previous one.  I managed to keep the wine witch pretty much quiet.  A trigger, I think, for me is cooking tea.  When the hubby was at home either having a day off or following an early shift, I would clock watch until 6pm (officially wine o'clock).  I'd drink my first glass and get on with cooking the tea.  Following my battle with the wine witch the evening before, I changed tack.  Knowing it would just be myself and the hubby for tea I decided to buy food I could chuck in the oven and the microwave so I avoided the supermarket and went to M & S instead (they don't have tempting cans or bottles of booze at the end of each and every aisle.... Although there are bottles of Prosecco amongst the pizzas).  After, I found a film on Netflix to watch and the night seemed to pass fairly quickly... Before I knew it, it was 11pm.

Now, here is another of my little problems.  I had hoped very much that quitting the booze would help me sleep much better.  Absolutely not the case.  Yes, I can stay awake for much much longer, but  I am so restless during the night and I'm waking up several times.  I did buy and have tried some Nytol, but they just give me restless feet and hands.  I suspect the problem is that using alcohol to get me to sleep (or partially comatose more like it) has been part of my life for so long that my body doesn't yet have the ability to sleep properly without the aid of alcohol.  Whilst I wake in the morning  feeling slightly shitty, grumpy and still tired at least I'm not hungover or still slightly pissed.  After 15 minutes and a cup of coffee I start to feel alive.  I'm hopeful that a full peaceful nights sleep will happen soon.

At least tomorrow (Saturday), I can have a lie in!

There you are wine witch!

After 25 days of being sober, last night was the first night when I would truly be alone.  The first few days, Hubby was off work so I had his company to distract me as he did during our holidays.  The first few days after our holiday, I knew the girls would be back home at some point and I had also arranged to pick hubby up from work when he finished just after 8pm - I could because I was SOBER!

Last night was different.  Hubby was doing a late shift, the older daughter was out all night and the younger one wouldn't be back until after 9pm.  Easy, I thought.  I made my plans to keep me occupied.  I wasn't too worried.  Yes, the wine witch has been sitting on my shoulder whispering her sweet nothings to me (see, you've gone this long without a drink... You can moderate... Give it a go!  You probably won't even like the taste anymore, but give it a go!). Usually, I've been able to kick her are into touch fairly easily.

Well, after work I went to the supermarket headed towards the home baking section when I walked past an end aisle filled with cans of cider and different ales I think.  BAM!! The wine witch practically screamed at me "go on.  Just one, that's all you need.  No-one will know.  You can drink it and get rid of the can, you won't even get tipsy!!!!"  I could picture my hand reaching for one.  I was so shocked with how strong this 'craving' was, I felt physically sick.  I'm sure all colour drained from my face.

Then, I pictured what I imagined I had done during my most recent blackout (pissed myself), then I pictured another time when I fell over in the back garden and could barely get back up.  That did the trick.  I knew / know I won't stop at one drink.

Back home I was fine, but that episode has got me thinking hard.  This is going to be my life for the foreseeable future.  I can never ever drink alcohol again.... But surely I shouldn't be thinking 'I can't'.  I should be thinking 'I don't want to'.

The Holiday

So, on my fifth day of being alcohol free, the hubby and I went on holiday for two weeks.  It was bliss and - most importantly alcohol free!

Whilst it hasn't been easy peasy I can't say that it has been really hard either.  I had worried a great deal that I was so dependant on alcohol that I might suffer some awful withdrawal symptoms... the thumping headache, the shakes and the inability to function properly.  In fact, being honest, I used it as an excuse not to quit.  The only 'symptom' that I've suffered from is that I haven't been sleeping particularly well, but I'm hoping that I will sleep like a log soon.  The lack of sleep isn't bothering me too much because I'm not hung over, so it isn't taking me too long to fully wake up and function.

I think the holiday was a kind of rehab for me and it was helped greatly that the husband did not drink alcohol either.  Not that I stopped him, but I think he thought it would be more beneficial to me if he didn't.  I love him all the more for that thoughtfulness.

I did find that I studied other people's drinking habits.  This may have been to prove that I'm not the only one with a problem.  I was shocked actually... By the fact that most people did not drink alcohol like it was going out of fashion.  Sure, there were some that had a pint of lager sat in front of them by 11am, but for the most part I saw people drinking  ONE glass of wine... Shockingly some even left some of that one glass of wine!  That would have been completely alien to me.  I would never ever in a million years leave a sip of wine in my glass.  I did observe that lots and lots of people just drank water or soft drinks.... Just like me.

I've been back from holiday for a week now and I'm on day 25.  Tonight is my first night completely alone at home.  Hubby is back to work doing a late shift and the girls are out for the night.  Ordinarily  this would mean that I could get shitfaced even before my tea was ready.  I'd then stumble to bed by 8.30pm at the latest.  Tonight will be different.  I need to be on my own to prove that I won't listen to the wine witch.  I haven't made plans to see family or even go for a walk.  I have made plans to cook myself a lovely tea and then after I'm going to do some baking.  Once tidied up, I'm going to watch a film.... All the way through, without falling asleep.

I hit my rock bottom

Since January I've managed the odd day without the wine.  It never lasted though.  I stopped smoking completely in the first week of February and have put on almost two stone in weight.  I didn't mind this too much - I needed the additional weight.  People were starting to comment on how thin and gaunt I was looking.  I'm really pleased I managed to quit smoking so easily - I look and feel much healthier for it AND I've been able to book and pay for a holiday abroad with Mr W for the first time in almost five years.

Anyway, the wine witch would whisper in my ear "You've stopped smoking, you don't go out, you don't treat yourself .... go on!".  My willpower is zilch.  I can't just stop at one glass.  I cannot 'moderate'.  I almost always drink the whole bottle.

During the last few months, Mr W has been giving me 'the look' when I've poured myself a glass of wine.  It's not a pleasant look - it's between annoyance and pity.  He's also been making the odd little comment here and there.  "Take it easy", "Have your tea first", etc.  What did I do?  Well, I sure as hell didn't cut down.  I began to buy extra alcohol secretly and 'stash' it when I could.  I figured that I could get the same feeling (of being utterly pissed and useless) but it would appear that I had not drunk a lot.  It was fairly easy to do - particularly so when Mr W Was doing middle or later shifts.  I'd buy a couple of mini bottles of red wine and pour them into a water bottle, hide the water bottle in my bag and chuck the empty bottles.  At home, I'd hide the bottle and, throughout the evening take a glug.  It was great (I thought)..... I was still drunk but, to my husband and children, it appeared as though I'd only had half a bottle.  I'm certain, they all wondered why I was still almost comatose by 8pm.

I think my body may have gotten used to this because, before long, those two mini bottles did nothing.  Unfortunately, I moved onto buying one of those quarter bottles of vodka.  That did the trick and a quarter bottle lasted me two nights ... of course bearing in mind I'm still drinking the wine.

Last Thursday, I had a particularly shitty day at work (absolutely no excuse) and I was feeling lousy.  As usual, I finished work, went shopping for essentials and a bottle of wine and called into the corner shop for a quarter bottle of vodka.  Elder child was out all night, younger child would be back later and the hubby didn't finish work till nearly 10pm.  I was set up for the night.  As it happens, this night I did only have half a bottle of wine.  However, I did drink the whole quarter bottle of vodka throughout the night.  Neat.  By 8.30pm I was well and truly pissed and I knew it so I took myself off to bed ........

The next morning Mr W asked me if I was ok.  I said I was even though I felt like crap.  You don't remember do you?  He said.  My heart sank.  I don't remember anything I admitted.  You were so hammered last night he said .... you had a blackout .... well you would drinking wine and vodka.  You pissed yourself on the landing, then when you went staggering back to bed you fell over and smacked yourself off the wall.  We (him and younger child) had to pick you up and change you.  I sat back on our bed and said oh.... I honestly did not know how to react.  I'd been caught out, what the fuck have I done.  I felt mortified, embarrassed, ashamed and deeply sorry.

A little later, I checked my mobile.  I had four disconnected facetime calls to my mother.  I had one incoming facetime call FROM my mother which lasted for 22 minutes.  I have no idea what was said.  I felt even worse.

This 'blackout' isn't the first.  I want to make sure it is the last.

Friday was horrendous.  I can't really at this point describe how I felt.  Although at a later date I will try.  I did have a drink on Friday night - I'd arranged to go to a close friends house for a catch up.  She'd recently been diagnosed with breast cancer and had had a recent operation.  We were celebrating the fact that other than the op and some radiotherapy, the cancer had been caught quickly and there was no need for chemo.  I did feel I moderated very well.  I had two and a half glasses.

Today is Tuesday and I am on day four of being sober.  I feel great and I feel as though, so far, it hasn't been too difficult.

Mr W has said nothing further about Thursday's episode yet - for which I am grateful.  We haven't discussed the fact I haven't touched alcohol since Friday night, but I know he has noticed.  He has said I look radiant.  I feel it.

We are off on our holiday tomorrow.  I fully intend to enjoy it without the alcohol.

If I struggle, all I have to do is to remember Thursday and remember the shame of pissing myself and not knowing what the hell I was doing .... and what the consequences could have been.

May be, when I'm ready, I may make this blog public.  I know there are people just like me out there .... thinking that they are fully functional people who 'enjoy a glass or three of wine'.  I'm not, I've only fooled myself.