I don't count how many days I have sober now (that is a big step in itself I hope). I remember the date of my last drink with great clarity. What I don’t remember is what I did the previous night. My nightly blackout this particular night was so much of a blackout that I can only rely on what my husband told me. My FaceTime records show I held a 20 minute conversation with my mother - none of which I remember.
That’s in the past now though and I am learning slowly to let that guilt go. Feeling guilty doesn’t change anything, but it does come in useful sometimes. When I do have the odd pang for booze, I need only think about that night. The guilt flicks that wine bitch straight off my shoulder.
I have come such a long way since 7July 2017... almost one and a half years ago.
Physically, I am healthier, my eyes are bright, my skin is good, my hair is bouncier. I sleep and eat better.
Mentally, I am financially much better off, so I don't worry any longer about money (I could always afford to buy a bottle of wine though!), I don't think about alcohol much at all and all of the stuff that comes with that. I am in control of my life, not alcohol.
I have had a heavy couple of months: both my children have flown the nest and my home is so empty and quiet.... and tidy. I got a promotion at work which is great... I have more responsibility and authority but this has not gone down well with some of my colleagues, so there has been a bit of back stabbing.
I have also had the make the difficult decision of cutting my sister out of my life. I could write a blog just about her and her toxicity. In a nutshell, she has caused so much shit in our lives, I said ‘enough’ (actually, I said a lot more than this), deleted and blocked her from my social media and blocked her mobile number. Life has been much calmer since. I can’t see the snide crap she posts about me on Facebook, so it doesn’t bother me.
I am thankful that I am sober and strong with it. I’ve been able to deal with my emotions - sadness, loneliness and anger - much better, because I am sober. I know that if I was still drinking, everything that has happened in the last couple of months would have been an excuse to drink even more. My problems would have been ten-fold.
Saturday, 29 December 2018
Monday, 1 October 2018
What is an Alcoholic?
What is an Alcoholic? What is your definition of one? What does your mind conjure up when you think of the word 'Alcoholic'. Is it that man that you see sitting on a park bench drinking out of a bottle hidden in a paper bag? Is it that woman in front of you at the supermarket that smells of booze, buying a bottle of vodka or gin .. or whatever? Or is it that woman (or man) that is well dressed, has a decent job, seems to have a good life? That person who is just very capable of hiding it well?
I ask because my friend - whose husband very recently passed away - is livid. She has his death certificate and it says the cause of death is decompressed alcoholic liver disease. She took some calming down I can tell you! She said the Doctor who certified the death got it wrong: Her husband died from multiple organ failure. His liver stopped working completely and then so did his kidneys. Yes, she said - there was alcohol involved .... but "He was NOT an alcoholic!".
While I find this a little strange taking into account her feelings expressed to me a few weeks ago, I can understand she does not like the connotations this has and she doesn't want her children having this as their legacy. The certificate has to be forwarded to various people and she told me that they had previously had their critical illness insurance refused due to the reasons of her husband's illness. I don't doubt that is also an element of denial too and embarrassment. She doesn't want strangers knowing her business.
You see, it's the words "he was not an alcoholic" that bother me. When I think of someone as an alcoholic .... And I really detest that word .... I think of someone who drinks way too much than they should on a daily basis, I think of someone who hides what they drink, someone who hides the empty bottles. Someone who obsesses about where, when and how much they can drink from almost the minute they wake. Someone who cannot go even for a day without a drink of booze.
I know, because I was that person. An alcoholic has many different disguises.
My friend's husband couldn't even stop drinking booze when his life depended on it. I spoke to her parents yesterday - when they were clearing up her overgrown neglected garden recently they found empty spirit bottles galore hidden in all sorts of places.
For now, I think her denial will be how she's going to cope with her grief and that is her perogative. All we can do is be on standby for when or if that denial turns into anger.
I ask because my friend - whose husband very recently passed away - is livid. She has his death certificate and it says the cause of death is decompressed alcoholic liver disease. She took some calming down I can tell you! She said the Doctor who certified the death got it wrong: Her husband died from multiple organ failure. His liver stopped working completely and then so did his kidneys. Yes, she said - there was alcohol involved .... but "He was NOT an alcoholic!".
While I find this a little strange taking into account her feelings expressed to me a few weeks ago, I can understand she does not like the connotations this has and she doesn't want her children having this as their legacy. The certificate has to be forwarded to various people and she told me that they had previously had their critical illness insurance refused due to the reasons of her husband's illness. I don't doubt that is also an element of denial too and embarrassment. She doesn't want strangers knowing her business.
You see, it's the words "he was not an alcoholic" that bother me. When I think of someone as an alcoholic .... And I really detest that word .... I think of someone who drinks way too much than they should on a daily basis, I think of someone who hides what they drink, someone who hides the empty bottles. Someone who obsesses about where, when and how much they can drink from almost the minute they wake. Someone who cannot go even for a day without a drink of booze.
I know, because I was that person. An alcoholic has many different disguises.
My friend's husband couldn't even stop drinking booze when his life depended on it. I spoke to her parents yesterday - when they were clearing up her overgrown neglected garden recently they found empty spirit bottles galore hidden in all sorts of places.
For now, I think her denial will be how she's going to cope with her grief and that is her perogative. All we can do is be on standby for when or if that denial turns into anger.
Friday, 28 September 2018
Farewell Chris
This afternoon I received some awful news from my friend whose husband I've written about on here. The husband with advanced liver disease. Chris died earlier today. He collapsed at home and was rushed to hospital where he slipped away. He couldn't stay sober so was never going to get his second chance at life.
I'm saddened, shocked. I'm also angry for my friend - her husband, her lover, her best friend couldn't do what he needed to do to stay alive. But who am I to judge?
This so easily could have been me.. Or you..... I'm grabbing my second chance at life with both hands and giving my truly wonderful husband and my two darling daughters and extra big hug tonight.
I'm saddened, shocked. I'm also angry for my friend - her husband, her lover, her best friend couldn't do what he needed to do to stay alive. But who am I to judge?
This so easily could have been me.. Or you..... I'm grabbing my second chance at life with both hands and giving my truly wonderful husband and my two darling daughters and extra big hug tonight.
Wednesday, 15 August 2018
Eventually
I have absolutely no doubt that had I not stopped drinking alcohol, I would have slid even further down that slippery slope to 'proper alcoholism' - where I would have lost everything, my family, my home, my job and my health. I'd be drinking cheap vodka for breakfast full time (I was already getting to be a part timer at it).
Eventually, I'd be suffering from advanced liver disease: I'd have almost luminous yellow tinged eyes that would seem to bulge out because my face was so thin and gaunt. My skin would be a funny browny colour - almost like a sun tan, but not. I'd be so thin from the lack of appetite that all I could do would be to lie on the sofa watching shit TV, dozing on and off because I was so exhausted. My home would be fitted with various disability aids to help me get in and out of the shower, the house, up the stairs to bed. My muscles would have wasted away, I'd be skin and bone and would look like I had an eating disorder, with the exception of my round bloated abdomen which I would have to have drained every two weeks. I would look and act like I was twice my age. I'd have to take a cocktail of drugs just to keep me going for the day and it would be very difficult keeping them down. I'd have to try hard not to vomit them back up.
My husband and children would be worried sick about me, would hate me, would resent me all at once.
I'd get thinly disguised looks of horror from visitors - those people who I hadn't managed to alienate.
We would have to sell the house or face being repossessed because the mortgage isn't being paid because we are a salary down now that I can't work. I can't claim much in the way of benefits.
There'd be endless visits to the hospital to see consultants, prodding, poking, personal questions about my drinking: How much, how long? You must tell us the truth which is hard when you have your spouse sitting next to you and you have been secretive and lying for all these years. Those visits where you are told your liver is beyond repair. This is your life now. Just one more drink of booze will kill you. The trouble is that you want that drink - you need that drink.
This, unfortunately, is my friend's situation with her husband (the one I have mentioned previously). I haven't visited since my last encounter, but went this weekend to drop off my friend's birthday card. The visit was awful. Horrendous. In just a few months there is a massive difference in how her husband looks. He was a strapping 6 foot odd big built man who used to play sport a lot. Instead of the 20 stone he weighed - he is now just 11 stone. He looks like an extra out of the walking dead - limbs hanging, shuffling, dazed and unable to speak clearly.
They have been told that the only option left is for him to have a liver transplant. His consultant is dubious because of the past history of relapses. He's not strong enough either and, of course, he needs to go on a waiting list if he is suitable for a transplant.
My friend said she hates her husband now. She resents him. She hates that she has to help him with the simplest thing. She hates the endless trips to the hospital where she has to listen to her husband's attempts to lie about his drinking. Then she has to listen to the truth. He didn't really get this ill after only a year of heavy drinking. She hates seeing other patients with the same problem - various different shades of yellow. There are those who leave the hospital opening a can of lager. She hates that her chidren are suffering. They have been acting up at home and at school. They are both at important impressionable ages.
He is obviously no longer working. His severance pay ran out a long time ago. She is struggling financially. She is scared to open the letters coming from her mortgage lender. She knows what they say. Her utility providers are about to refer her outstanding bills to a debt collector. They are coming to install prepayment meters. She owes her retired parents money.
She wants to leave him but feels that she can't. His family don't live in this country. If she leaves he'll have no-one. She feels responsible for him but resents this.
This is what can happen when alcohol controls you.... when you can't stop at just one. You don't just fuck up your life.
Luckily, sensibly I saw the light and quit in time and for this I am thankful for my 404 days sober. This will not be my 'Eventually'. I only need to conjure up an image of my friend's husband to imagine my 'Eventually' if I drink alcohol again.
Eventually, I'd be suffering from advanced liver disease: I'd have almost luminous yellow tinged eyes that would seem to bulge out because my face was so thin and gaunt. My skin would be a funny browny colour - almost like a sun tan, but not. I'd be so thin from the lack of appetite that all I could do would be to lie on the sofa watching shit TV, dozing on and off because I was so exhausted. My home would be fitted with various disability aids to help me get in and out of the shower, the house, up the stairs to bed. My muscles would have wasted away, I'd be skin and bone and would look like I had an eating disorder, with the exception of my round bloated abdomen which I would have to have drained every two weeks. I would look and act like I was twice my age. I'd have to take a cocktail of drugs just to keep me going for the day and it would be very difficult keeping them down. I'd have to try hard not to vomit them back up.
My husband and children would be worried sick about me, would hate me, would resent me all at once.
I'd get thinly disguised looks of horror from visitors - those people who I hadn't managed to alienate.
We would have to sell the house or face being repossessed because the mortgage isn't being paid because we are a salary down now that I can't work. I can't claim much in the way of benefits.
There'd be endless visits to the hospital to see consultants, prodding, poking, personal questions about my drinking: How much, how long? You must tell us the truth which is hard when you have your spouse sitting next to you and you have been secretive and lying for all these years. Those visits where you are told your liver is beyond repair. This is your life now. Just one more drink of booze will kill you. The trouble is that you want that drink - you need that drink.
This, unfortunately, is my friend's situation with her husband (the one I have mentioned previously). I haven't visited since my last encounter, but went this weekend to drop off my friend's birthday card. The visit was awful. Horrendous. In just a few months there is a massive difference in how her husband looks. He was a strapping 6 foot odd big built man who used to play sport a lot. Instead of the 20 stone he weighed - he is now just 11 stone. He looks like an extra out of the walking dead - limbs hanging, shuffling, dazed and unable to speak clearly.
They have been told that the only option left is for him to have a liver transplant. His consultant is dubious because of the past history of relapses. He's not strong enough either and, of course, he needs to go on a waiting list if he is suitable for a transplant.
My friend said she hates her husband now. She resents him. She hates that she has to help him with the simplest thing. She hates the endless trips to the hospital where she has to listen to her husband's attempts to lie about his drinking. Then she has to listen to the truth. He didn't really get this ill after only a year of heavy drinking. She hates seeing other patients with the same problem - various different shades of yellow. There are those who leave the hospital opening a can of lager. She hates that her chidren are suffering. They have been acting up at home and at school. They are both at important impressionable ages.
He is obviously no longer working. His severance pay ran out a long time ago. She is struggling financially. She is scared to open the letters coming from her mortgage lender. She knows what they say. Her utility providers are about to refer her outstanding bills to a debt collector. They are coming to install prepayment meters. She owes her retired parents money.
She wants to leave him but feels that she can't. His family don't live in this country. If she leaves he'll have no-one. She feels responsible for him but resents this.
This is what can happen when alcohol controls you.... when you can't stop at just one. You don't just fuck up your life.
Luckily, sensibly I saw the light and quit in time and for this I am thankful for my 404 days sober. This will not be my 'Eventually'. I only need to conjure up an image of my friend's husband to imagine my 'Eventually' if I drink alcohol again.
Friday, 3 August 2018
Drinking dreams
Last night I had a 'drinking dream'. The first that I have had for a long time. I remember it clearly, like it actually happened.
It wasn't a good drinking dream - one where I am enjoying just the one glass of wine. No, this one was reminiscent of what life was like before becoming sober. In it I had a bottle of my favourite red wine and a large wine glass. I knew I was sober, that I shouldn't be drinking, but I was desperate. I quickly poured the first glass and drank it quickly and secretly and then I hid the rest of the bottle for later. I then spent some time trying to act sober in front of my family. I also 'appeared' in a supermarket and bought a huge bottle of Amaretto liquer 'for a friend's birthday'. Then, later on when the effect of the first drink had worn off and I was sober, I realised that I had to find the hidden bottle so that I could dispose of it before Mr W found it. Only, I couldn't find it! I searched everywhere I could think of ..... I was panicking and anxious (I HAD to find this bottle) and then I woke up.
I woke up feeling the same way I used to every day before I decame sober: Feeling shitty, hungover, ashamed and tense because I had drunk alcohol (albeit in my dream). My jaw and teeth hurt because I've been grinding my teeth.
It took me a little while to realise that it was a dream - just that and nothing else. I've still been sober for almost 13 months. I felt relief.
If I am honest, this dream has shaken me. I had thought that I was passed this stage and I don't know what may have affected my sub-conscious to prompt me to have a drinking dream. Other than yesterday, when there seemed to be a huge amount of posts about Gin on Facebook, there is nothing that stands out as a trigger.
I'm hoping this type of dream doesn't happen again and I am reinforcing to myself today that I have been sober for 393 days and that I WILL continue to be sober.
Drinking dreams can bugger off!
It wasn't a good drinking dream - one where I am enjoying just the one glass of wine. No, this one was reminiscent of what life was like before becoming sober. In it I had a bottle of my favourite red wine and a large wine glass. I knew I was sober, that I shouldn't be drinking, but I was desperate. I quickly poured the first glass and drank it quickly and secretly and then I hid the rest of the bottle for later. I then spent some time trying to act sober in front of my family. I also 'appeared' in a supermarket and bought a huge bottle of Amaretto liquer 'for a friend's birthday'. Then, later on when the effect of the first drink had worn off and I was sober, I realised that I had to find the hidden bottle so that I could dispose of it before Mr W found it. Only, I couldn't find it! I searched everywhere I could think of ..... I was panicking and anxious (I HAD to find this bottle) and then I woke up.
I woke up feeling the same way I used to every day before I decame sober: Feeling shitty, hungover, ashamed and tense because I had drunk alcohol (albeit in my dream). My jaw and teeth hurt because I've been grinding my teeth.
It took me a little while to realise that it was a dream - just that and nothing else. I've still been sober for almost 13 months. I felt relief.
If I am honest, this dream has shaken me. I had thought that I was passed this stage and I don't know what may have affected my sub-conscious to prompt me to have a drinking dream. Other than yesterday, when there seemed to be a huge amount of posts about Gin on Facebook, there is nothing that stands out as a trigger.
I'm hoping this type of dream doesn't happen again and I am reinforcing to myself today that I have been sober for 393 days and that I WILL continue to be sober.
Drinking dreams can bugger off!
Wednesday, 25 July 2018
The art of saying "No, thank you"
My one year soberversary passed on 7 July 2018 without fanfare or without comment nor acknowledgment from Mr W or the girls. Inside, I was cheering and congratulating myself but I appreciate that for my immediate family it's just another day in the office. What is a massive milestone and achievement for me is nothing to them and that's just the way it is. Still though, I knew the wine witch was lurking which surprised me a little - she's not been all that vocal recently (a quick flip of my middle finger and she usually goes). She kept popping up every now and then throughout the day to tell me I didn't have a problem at all with alcohol - I've not touched booze for a whole year. You're cured! You can moderate! Mmmmm - yeah right!
Anyway, back to the subject heading!
Mr W and I enjoyed our holiday abroad: It was a fairly quiet resort with not a lot going on and our hotel was fabulous. We went half board rather than all inclusive, so that we were not completely tied to the hotel.
However, alcohol seemed to be featured a lot in this hotel. No kidding, you could even have cava for breakfast!
Firstly, when we arrived to check in we were offered a glass of Cava, but I declined politely, said it was a little early in the day for us and asked if they had water instead. Mr W, actually seemed to take offence when he was offered and was (I thought) a little abrupt "No! We don't drink!" is what he said. We did get a strange look, but yes, they had water and we were subsequently given a glass. There were also a number of 'themed nights' for the evening meal and when you walked into the restaurant/dining room you were offered a cocktail ..... sangria, marguarita, etc. I felt a little 'displaced' on our first evening trip to the dining area when I was offered a drink. I asked what it was and was informed it was Sangria, I asked if it contained alcohol (although why, I don't know - of course it did). No, they didn't have a non alcoholic alternative and no, there was no water available.
Bearing in mind that I am the one that had a major problem with alcohol, I think I have learned the art of saying "No, thanks - not for me" (or similar) quite well. I don't feel the need to explain myself to complete strangers and nor do I want to. However, Mr W was a completelty different kettle of fish and I would have to try and speak first before he did. When I was too slow, he'd exclaim "No! We don't drink" and worse (on one occasion): "No! We are sober".
I feel awful, for saying this out loud, but it was plain embarrassing and awkward. I did, nicely, try to explain that we don't have to give a reason for our refusal - we just have to say no thank you or not for me.... easy! No-one cares if we don't want a drink of booze.
There was one evening that was extremely awkward because of Mr W and I really cringed. We went to the Hotel's posh restaurant for a meal and we were brought a cocktail. Mr W looked very annoyed (are these waiters and waitresses meant to be physic?) but I managed to jump in first and ask if they contained alcohol. Yes, they did so I asked if they had an alcohol free one - not a problem Madam. The waitress who brought the replacements remarked that they were AF and asked if we were having a night off from alcohol. Mr W remarked "No! We just don't drink anymore, we're not like some of these people that just go on holiday to drink you know! And, you can take these wine glasses and wine list away too". I mean, WTF!! Was there any need? The waitress scuttled off. I was seriously mortified and told him so. I felt as though he was he was drawing attention to the fact that we are sober and I felt ashamed of this. I know there is no reason why I should feel ashamed but Mr W could do with a lesson or three in diplomacy because he is seriously lacking in that department.
If I'm honest I am a little irritated that it is presumed that everyone drinks alcohol and there is a woeful lack of any alternative. In another restaurant/pub, I asked for their mocktail list. They didn't have one, I was told to choose one from the cocktail list and they would leave the alcohol out.
I did have a little snigger to myself at one point though: I received an email from the Hotel mid stay asking how our stay was so far and if I had any comments/suggestions for them that might make ours and other guest's stays nicer. I mentioned that it would be lovely if they could offer guests a non-alcoholic alternative on their themed nights in their restaurant. The next day, I had a note pushed under our room door thanking me for my suggestion. As a thank you, they were enclosing a voucher .... 10% off my next bottle of wine! Really!
Wednesday, 4 July 2018
Hiding Places
I'm going on holiday in a couple of days, but when we get back we are having some work done to the house so I have been desperately trying to sort out my holiday clothes (unfortunately none of them fit anymore due to the weight gain) and clearing out a storage cupboard that is crammed full of ... shit .... to make way for new pipework, etc.
I pulled out a couple of refuse sacks filled with old Christmas decorations, an old vacuum cleaner that doesn't work (why do we keep this stuff), The Husbands golf caddy that was used twice .... and came across a bottle of red wine - opened with only about an inch of the stuff left in the bottom. I'd come across a former hiding place. I know it has been there for at least a year (seeing as I am 361 days sober), but I immediately remembered knowing that I had hidden a bottle of wine somewhere in that cupboard but not being able to find it when I went looking for it to get rid of the evidence (I'd have swigged the rest of the wine first). My next thought was that I must have been a contortionist to have put it where it was .... or very determined not to get caught out. Then I felt shame: How bad had I become?
But, you know I hid booze everywhere in the house. I was an expert at it. Some of you lovely sober people out there might identify with these hiding places (if, indeed you did hide booze like me):
I pulled out a couple of refuse sacks filled with old Christmas decorations, an old vacuum cleaner that doesn't work (why do we keep this stuff), The Husbands golf caddy that was used twice .... and came across a bottle of red wine - opened with only about an inch of the stuff left in the bottom. I'd come across a former hiding place. I know it has been there for at least a year (seeing as I am 361 days sober), but I immediately remembered knowing that I had hidden a bottle of wine somewhere in that cupboard but not being able to find it when I went looking for it to get rid of the evidence (I'd have swigged the rest of the wine first). My next thought was that I must have been a contortionist to have put it where it was .... or very determined not to get caught out. Then I felt shame: How bad had I become?
But, you know I hid booze everywhere in the house. I was an expert at it. Some of you lovely sober people out there might identify with these hiding places (if, indeed you did hide booze like me):
- In plain sight - in a water bottle in my handbag (no-one would dare go in to my handbag).
- In my wardrobe.... this is where my husband found my empty water bottle that had been filled with vodka.
- In my knicker drawer ... under my knickers. Not long ago, when having a clothes clearout, I did come across a pair of knickers stained with red wine.... Gross!
- Under my bed, hidden in unused handbags.
- In the bathroom cabinet where I store towels. I'd hide the bottle underneath all the towels.
- In my daughters bedrooms when they weren't at home.
- In the kitchen cupboards .... right at the back where you need an extra long arm to reach something.
- In the car .... underneath the seats or in the box I keep in the boot. These were usually the empties, so that I could dispose of them somewhere else other than home.
- In the garden .... this was a pretty good place when I smoked. It worked better when the nights got darker earlier (Autumn and Winter) I'd get home from work and squirrel the bottle of whatever behind a plant pot. Then, when I went outside for a cigarette, I would have a sneaky drink too. I used to fall over in the garden loads of times and face plant the grass.
I have to hand it to myself - I was pretty resourceful! All of this was so that my husband and daughters wouldn't see how much I was drinking. How awful is that?
Luckily, I found the hidden bottle of wine and not my husband - that would have been AWKWARD! I still have that element of sneakiness about me though - I emptied the remaining wine out (it was definately off) and disposed of the empty bottle in the external refuse bin .... right at the bottom.
I did beat myself up a bit about finding the bottle and then remembering/thinking of all my other hiding places, but this morning I have picked myself up and given myself the frame of mind that "That was in the past - things have moved on, I've sober for almost one year and ... I wasn't as clever as I thought I was - If I were, I'd have gotten rid of that bottle long before now."
Wednesday, 27 June 2018
Almost One Year Sober
On the 7th July 2018 I will have been sober for one whole year! Who'd have thought it?
This year, I'll be celebrating my one year sober anniversary sunning myself on a hot sandy beach. It's something I would not be doing if I was still drinking. I wouldn't have been able to afford it.
I've spent the last couple of days reflecting about the last year: how I've coped, how being sober has benefitted me (and those around me) and what would have happened had I not stopped drinking.
I have to say that I am almost grateful that I had my personal 'rock bottom' moment. It is still very fresh in my memory and, whenever I begin to romanticise my drinking days, I think of this time and of other times. These memories still make me feel incredibly shameful. I suppose it's one of my sober tools. I do think this 'sober tool' of shaming myself isn't going to be good for me in the long term - I mean, how long should I beat myself up for? I am beginning to concentrate on the many, many good things of being sober: I can go to watch a film late at night and drive home. I can pick my husband up at midnight. On Monday night, I picked my younger daughter up from a concert. BECAUSE I WAS SOBER!
I have no doubt that, had that night not happened, I would have continued to drink and I would have just gotten better at hiding it - especially the water bottles filled with vodka. Who knows where I'd be. Perhaps I would be like my friend's husband who has severe liver disease. Perhaps my husband would have left me. Perhaps my two wonderful daughters were not speaking to me. Perhaps I might have lost my job. Perhaps ..................
But, BECAUSE I AM SOBER, my relationship with my family has improved immensely, my finances are looking up and I am healthy.
Best of all: I AM FREE! I can honestly say that it is so liberating and such a weight off my shoulders that I no longer have to think about how, where, when and why I am going to get my next drink.
This last year hasn't been plain sailing - of course it hasn't. Stopping drinking means you have to change yourself. You have to give yourself a good hard look and a damn good shake. You have to admit that you cannot moderate. Alcohol is not good for you and you cannot ever drink booze again. That is incredibly hard, but it does get easier when you start to see the benefits.
I am truly excited to see what the next year holds for me. Whether there are ups and downs, I am prepared. I know I can handle it. BECAUSE I AM SOBER AND FREE! XX
This year, I'll be celebrating my one year sober anniversary sunning myself on a hot sandy beach. It's something I would not be doing if I was still drinking. I wouldn't have been able to afford it.
I've spent the last couple of days reflecting about the last year: how I've coped, how being sober has benefitted me (and those around me) and what would have happened had I not stopped drinking.
I have to say that I am almost grateful that I had my personal 'rock bottom' moment. It is still very fresh in my memory and, whenever I begin to romanticise my drinking days, I think of this time and of other times. These memories still make me feel incredibly shameful. I suppose it's one of my sober tools. I do think this 'sober tool' of shaming myself isn't going to be good for me in the long term - I mean, how long should I beat myself up for? I am beginning to concentrate on the many, many good things of being sober: I can go to watch a film late at night and drive home. I can pick my husband up at midnight. On Monday night, I picked my younger daughter up from a concert. BECAUSE I WAS SOBER!
I have no doubt that, had that night not happened, I would have continued to drink and I would have just gotten better at hiding it - especially the water bottles filled with vodka. Who knows where I'd be. Perhaps I would be like my friend's husband who has severe liver disease. Perhaps my husband would have left me. Perhaps my two wonderful daughters were not speaking to me. Perhaps I might have lost my job. Perhaps ..................
But, BECAUSE I AM SOBER, my relationship with my family has improved immensely, my finances are looking up and I am healthy.
Best of all: I AM FREE! I can honestly say that it is so liberating and such a weight off my shoulders that I no longer have to think about how, where, when and why I am going to get my next drink.
This last year hasn't been plain sailing - of course it hasn't. Stopping drinking means you have to change yourself. You have to give yourself a good hard look and a damn good shake. You have to admit that you cannot moderate. Alcohol is not good for you and you cannot ever drink booze again. That is incredibly hard, but it does get easier when you start to see the benefits.
I am truly excited to see what the next year holds for me. Whether there are ups and downs, I am prepared. I know I can handle it. BECAUSE I AM SOBER AND FREE! XX
Wednesday, 6 June 2018
Should your partner stop drinking alcohol to support you, when you quit?
I realise that the subject heading of my post is a tricky and emotive one, but it's something that I've been thinking about for a couple of weeks now. In fact, I've been overthinking about it and I really, really need to get it off my chest!
Firstly, I would like to say that I have absolutely no experience in the subject - just my feelings and thoughts which are based on the fact that, when I stopped drinking booze, Mr W did too.
I never asked him to stop and I never expected him too either. He just did. When we were on holiday (in the days after I quit) he had one pint of lager. He didn't enjoy it and didn't even finish it ..... but then he was a 'normal' drinker.
Consequently, I have never had to deal with the emotions of watching him with envy enjoying a glass of wine or a pint of lager.
A couple of weeks ago I posted about my friend's husband who has severe liver disease. I posted about us finding him lying in a pool of blood in the bathroom.
He had what is called a split, bleeding varices (again - he's had one on an earlier occasion). Apparently, his liver is so damaged and scarred that his blood is having a really hard time moving through it. Blood needs to find a new easier way to get to the heart, so it has done this by opening up new blood vessles (varices). These vessels are usually formed along the lining of the stomach - so when one splits and bleeds massively, you vomit and shit blood. Sounds fun, doesn't it?
Firstly, I would like to say that I have absolutely no experience in the subject - just my feelings and thoughts which are based on the fact that, when I stopped drinking booze, Mr W did too.
I never asked him to stop and I never expected him too either. He just did. When we were on holiday (in the days after I quit) he had one pint of lager. He didn't enjoy it and didn't even finish it ..... but then he was a 'normal' drinker.
Consequently, I have never had to deal with the emotions of watching him with envy enjoying a glass of wine or a pint of lager.
A couple of weeks ago I posted about my friend's husband who has severe liver disease. I posted about us finding him lying in a pool of blood in the bathroom.
He had what is called a split, bleeding varices (again - he's had one on an earlier occasion). Apparently, his liver is so damaged and scarred that his blood is having a really hard time moving through it. Blood needs to find a new easier way to get to the heart, so it has done this by opening up new blood vessles (varices). These vessels are usually formed along the lining of the stomach - so when one splits and bleeds massively, you vomit and shit blood. Sounds fun, doesn't it?
He needed an operation to seal the split vessel. He has been told he must never drink alcohol again (again). Next time, he may not be so lucky.
I met my friend on Friday night to go to a cheap and cheerful Italian restaurant for a pizza and a catch up. She's been pretty desperate to have a break from her family. She promptly ordered a bottle of white wine and when I reminded her that I was drinking cola, she said that was fine she would drink it. And drink it she did.
Naturally, talk turned to her husband's health. It appears that they are both in denial about various things. He denies drinking that day .... apparently the vodka filled water bottle was from a time before - when he was "over doing the drinking". I reminded her that the top was off the bottle. Why would that be? She doesn't know that I KNOW all of the tricks! I've been there and done that! I was very tempted to tell her all and it was only my pride that stopped me.
I pointed to her glass of wine and asked her if she was still drinking at home in front of her husband. "Oh, yes - of course I am. He doesn't mind." was the response "I buy the boxes of wine that hold about three bottles, so I know roughly how long they should last me." To be honest, I was a little stuck for words, so just initially said "are you sure that's a good idea?"
There is one massive red flag right there for me: She is buying boxes of wine when her husband has alcohol related liver damage and is possibly struggling with remaining sober.
A little while later I did pluck up the courage to suggest that she not purchase boxes of wine and instead buys a bottle at a time - at least then she can gauge what it left - if any is left. I know how easy it is just to sneak that extra glass with out anyone knowing. I also tried to suggest that it may be better if she didn't drink wine in front of him for a little while but she just retorted that he doesn't mind - he hasn't got a problem with alcohol - he was just over doing it..... (See - denial?)
I get that what they choose to do in their own lives is nothing to do with me, but on the other hand I know that giving up and staying off booze is bloody hard work. I don't want to sound pious, but you need all of the support you can get when you decide to quit the booze.
I'm pretty sure that it can't be 'no problem' for her husband when she is quaffing wine around him.
I can quite happily socialise now around people who are drinking alcohol, but I do think my sobriety would have been much, much harder if Mr W had continued to drink alcohol. Who knows if I would have even been able to continue with it?
I suppose that all I can do at this stage is hang back and be there if I am ever needed.
Friday, 25 May 2018
Wine Memes
I found this 'meme' on my Facebook Memory Timeline thingy earlier and thought I'd share it:
I shared this photo to my timeline exactly two years ago. At the time, I'm sure I found it humorous. Seeing it this morning made me cringe a bit because it was so true and accurate - I did love my wine more than anything else in the world. Wine trumped everything. Only now can I see that.
Needless to say, I have not shared this 'memory' on my timeline.
Now, things could not be more different. When I say "I love you" to my husband it is him only that I am talking to (and the tub of icecream).
XX
Sunday, 20 May 2018
The Harm That Alcohol Does
For a while, before I quit drinking, I experienced spasm like pains frequently - although usually in the morning. I would get these pains in my chest area but mainly to the right hand side of my abdomen. I knew it was my Liver suffering from the amount of alcohol it was having to process and quite often I would scare myself stupid that I was either going to have a heart attack or my Liver was about to explode.
By all accounts, the Liver can repair itself if it's not too badly damaged and if you look after it..... Like, not drink alcohol. According to our NHS website, every time you drink alcohol, you kill a few of your liver's cells. Even if you binge drink, if you stay off the booze for a fortnight, your liver can go back to normal. Now, in my opinion, (being an ex lush) that's a pretty moronic piece of advice. Someone with a problem with alcohol may think.... I'll give it a rest for two weeks, then I'll be fine..... See, I don't have a problem with the booze!
Having said that, when I became sober, my pains vanished almost instaneously. I have also been reassured from blood tests that my Liver function is normal -so, if there was any damage, my Liver has repaired itself. Phew!
Now, to get seriously serious: I have really pondered whether to write and publish the following. It won't be pretty reading and will be graphic. But, if I ever have doubts again about my sobriety, or if that wine witch comes calling, I will re-read this post over and over and if one other person that reads this post thinks twice about touching another drop then reliving today's events and writing them down will be worth it.
I haven't seen my best childhood friend properly for almost three months. We've texted sporadically and bumped into each other ice or twice when out shopping, but that's it. I had kind of given up because I thought she didn't want to bother with me much because I don't drink anymore.
Anyway, on Saturday night I received a text from her. Would I mind picking her up from home (her car is in the garage) on Sunday morning and we'd go for a walk along the beach and have a coffee... She had something she wanted to speak to me about.
Her husband, who has been a heavy drinker for as long as I've known him ... About 15 years ... Has advanced liver disease. It is because of alcohol misuse. His liver will not regenerate, it's beyound that stage. He is 51.
Previously, during a catch-up, we had discussed his drinking. She was worried about his health and he was suffering so much from anxiety problems that he had to give up working. The last time I saw him, I had noticed that the white of his eyes had a yellow tinge to them. My friend had also noticed this, but her husband brushed her concerns off.
She told me that she had forced him into going to the doctors, who immediately sent him to hospital. After various tests, that is the outcome. His Liver is fucked. He has had to stop drinking alcohol. He had to have medication to help with the withdrawal symptoms. He has to have medication to help keep his liver as stable as possible, he has lost over 40 lbs in weight, he physically can't do very much anymore without getting tired quickly and he has to have his abdomen drained of fluid every two weeks. He has also had various urgent trips to the hospital by ambulance because of internal bleeding.
When I dropped her off at home, her young daughter, who is 12, ran out of the house to us panic stricken..... Dad was lying on the bathroom floor with blood every where.
Obviously we both ran upstairs to see to him. I can only describe it as stepping into a blood bath. He was vomiting blood, although, at first I thought he'd cut his own throat. The toilet and the floor was awash with it. He had also lost control of his bowel and bladder. There he was lying there barely conscious. My second thought was "that's not him, that's some with stage 4 cancer who is about to die. He was always big built... Not anymore. He is this peculiar shade of light mustard yellow.
It was horrific, everyone was panicking, the kids were crying and hysteric... Somehow, I found myself ringing for an ambulance, which seemed to take an eternity to arrive. It didn't of course. Whilst I was doing this, my friend took the kids out of the way. After hanging the phone up, my eyes rested upon a half empty Evian water bottle almost hidden behind the toilet. I picked it up and smelled it.... Vodka.
I will not forget her face when I gave it to her and told her what it was. It was a look of many emotions. I will not forget today ever. These images will always be etched in my memory. I feel sad for them, particularly for my friend and their children. What must they be going through? I am beginning to feel a burning anger too... At him. He knew the risks, knows what the consequences are and he still choose to drink alcohol.
When the paramedics arrived, my friend explained the problem. They asked him if he had had any alcohol. He mumbled "no"! I did what I know is the right thing. I told them he probably had and showed them the water bottle.
I spoke to my friend earlier, her husband is still very poorly but he is 'stable' . She said the doctors have said it is 60/40 as to whether he pulls around.
Today has been a real eye opener. This could easily have been me... Or you.
Saturday, 19 May 2018
Sober Socialising
Firstly, I just want to write that, as of today (19 May 2018) I have been sober for 315 days!!! In a few weeks, I will have been sober for a whole year. I am immensely proud of myself. The longest ever period of being sober previously was three weeks.
Last week I took a weeks holiday from work for a bit of R & R. It's the first time that I would completely be 'on my own' for a significant length of time during the day. Mr W was working pretty long shifts every day and the girls are both working.In my previous life, I would have obsessed about how much I could drink. The week would have been completely wasted. I would have, at the first opportunity, gone to the supermarket to buy my booze stash - two bottles of wine or one bottle of wine and a quarter or half bottle of vodka. Either a bottle of wine or most of the vodka would have been drunk when I got home .... whilst 'doing some housework'. I always rationalised with myself that I was on holiday .... so I could drink. In reality I was slipping down that slippery slope to alcoholism. I think I was more than halfway there.
I would then be so pissed that I would have to go to bed to sleep it off. I would then 'wake' up - hungover, feeling like shit and, often, still drunk - rush around doing the housework I should have done earlier, etc, etc. I'm sure many of you out there know the drill.
Anyway, this time, I admit that I did feel a little anxious: Would I be bored and then be tempted? I planned ahead. I booked appointments to give myself some 'me' time - I had my hair done, my nails done and (for the first time ever) my eyebrows waxed and tinted (christ, that stung). I made a note of all the things I wanted to achieve (mostly a good spring clean) and put little sticky notes everywhere with 'clean/tidy me' written on them. When the task was done, the sticky note was put in a pile and the job was marked off the list. There's a great sense of satisfaction in seeing everything on your list crossed off and a pile of sticky notes showing things that have been done.
The other thing that I did whilst on holiday was socialise sober four times! I attended two bbq's (one a friends birthday and one a impromptu family one) and two organised meals at restaurants (one a work retirement party and the other a family birthday celebration). I managed all of them pretty fine and enjoyed them all. I also amused myself by seeing how sloppy and slurry people get when they are drunk.
I found the bbq's much easier to handle - you can wander around chatting to people with a plate of food in your hand rather than a glass of something. It's an environment where you can help yourself to whatever.
The restaurant trips were slightly more difficult - particularly the work do: You're stuck in one place - confined almost - and surrounded by people drinking wine, vodka and tonic and gin .... Initially, I got the "Haw haw! Still off the booze?" from my boss. I did have a little snap at another work colleague: The conversation had turned to flavoured gins and I was asked for my opinion and which ones had I tried. I said I've never liked gin (I don't like the smell) and I don't drink alcohol anyway. "Oh! How boring!" she said "I think anyone who doesn't drink is boring." I replied "Well, I think drunk people are sloppy - but each to their own!" There was a deathly silence for a couple of seconds before I said that my sister liked flavoured gins and the Parma Violet was her current favourite. I'm not particularly proud of being snappy. I was being wound up and I bit. However, I refuse being called boring because I don't drink alcohol.
The family birthday celebration was much easier and, after the palaver over my mothers birthday, I played no part in organising this one (my step-fathers). Mr W was sat next to me and he doesn't drink now either. My girls were opposite and did have a cocktail each. My sister was sat next to me and after four gins asked me about three times why I was drinking coke instead of wine. Eventually, I was a little short with her and said "Because, I don't want to bloody drink wine!". "Ooh! Alright!" she replied. What I took away from that conversation is that pink gin and lemonade breath stinks!
At the end of the night, it was much easier to add up our proportion of the bill. Unsurprisingly, it was my sister who tried to dodge paying her share. But, I was sober so kept out of that little squabble.
So, my lesson to myself last week is that I don't have to have no social life because I'm sober. I can do it. It isn't too difficult for me, it isn't a trigger. Yes, I am finding that drunk people irritate the hell out of me... But I can handle it. I can always leave early if I want, right?
Last week I took a weeks holiday from work for a bit of R & R. It's the first time that I would completely be 'on my own' for a significant length of time during the day. Mr W was working pretty long shifts every day and the girls are both working.In my previous life, I would have obsessed about how much I could drink. The week would have been completely wasted. I would have, at the first opportunity, gone to the supermarket to buy my booze stash - two bottles of wine or one bottle of wine and a quarter or half bottle of vodka. Either a bottle of wine or most of the vodka would have been drunk when I got home .... whilst 'doing some housework'. I always rationalised with myself that I was on holiday .... so I could drink. In reality I was slipping down that slippery slope to alcoholism. I think I was more than halfway there.
I would then be so pissed that I would have to go to bed to sleep it off. I would then 'wake' up - hungover, feeling like shit and, often, still drunk - rush around doing the housework I should have done earlier, etc, etc. I'm sure many of you out there know the drill.
Anyway, this time, I admit that I did feel a little anxious: Would I be bored and then be tempted? I planned ahead. I booked appointments to give myself some 'me' time - I had my hair done, my nails done and (for the first time ever) my eyebrows waxed and tinted (christ, that stung). I made a note of all the things I wanted to achieve (mostly a good spring clean) and put little sticky notes everywhere with 'clean/tidy me' written on them. When the task was done, the sticky note was put in a pile and the job was marked off the list. There's a great sense of satisfaction in seeing everything on your list crossed off and a pile of sticky notes showing things that have been done.
The other thing that I did whilst on holiday was socialise sober four times! I attended two bbq's (one a friends birthday and one a impromptu family one) and two organised meals at restaurants (one a work retirement party and the other a family birthday celebration). I managed all of them pretty fine and enjoyed them all. I also amused myself by seeing how sloppy and slurry people get when they are drunk.
I found the bbq's much easier to handle - you can wander around chatting to people with a plate of food in your hand rather than a glass of something. It's an environment where you can help yourself to whatever.
The restaurant trips were slightly more difficult - particularly the work do: You're stuck in one place - confined almost - and surrounded by people drinking wine, vodka and tonic and gin .... Initially, I got the "Haw haw! Still off the booze?" from my boss. I did have a little snap at another work colleague: The conversation had turned to flavoured gins and I was asked for my opinion and which ones had I tried. I said I've never liked gin (I don't like the smell) and I don't drink alcohol anyway. "Oh! How boring!" she said "I think anyone who doesn't drink is boring." I replied "Well, I think drunk people are sloppy - but each to their own!" There was a deathly silence for a couple of seconds before I said that my sister liked flavoured gins and the Parma Violet was her current favourite. I'm not particularly proud of being snappy. I was being wound up and I bit. However, I refuse being called boring because I don't drink alcohol.
The family birthday celebration was much easier and, after the palaver over my mothers birthday, I played no part in organising this one (my step-fathers). Mr W was sat next to me and he doesn't drink now either. My girls were opposite and did have a cocktail each. My sister was sat next to me and after four gins asked me about three times why I was drinking coke instead of wine. Eventually, I was a little short with her and said "Because, I don't want to bloody drink wine!". "Ooh! Alright!" she replied. What I took away from that conversation is that pink gin and lemonade breath stinks!
At the end of the night, it was much easier to add up our proportion of the bill. Unsurprisingly, it was my sister who tried to dodge paying her share. But, I was sober so kept out of that little squabble.
So, my lesson to myself last week is that I don't have to have no social life because I'm sober. I can do it. It isn't too difficult for me, it isn't a trigger. Yes, I am finding that drunk people irritate the hell out of me... But I can handle it. I can always leave early if I want, right?
Saturday, 28 April 2018
A dilemma and a wobble
My youngest child, who is a young adult, is pretty good at cake making and decorating and she's in the middle of making a cake for someone. She is making various decorations with fondant icing which require painting and the powder that she is using needs to be mixed with something that is alcohol based rather than water (don't ask me why... I don't have a clue).
We were having a chat and she was explaining how she was doing things and mentioned she had obtained a bit of vodka (that was in a water bottle) from a friend so that she can mix the powder to paint the icing. I was not phased, nor bothered by this and really didn't give it a second thought.
Then she left the house and I went into a cupboard to get tin foil out.... There, on the top shelf is the water bottle with an inch of vodka in it. I could smell it as soon as I opened the cupboard. I really, really wanted it. The wine/vodka witch was straight there... Telling me I could have a sip, have a taste, I won't like it anyway..... No-one will know... Top it up with water...
I think that this is the first time that I have really felt a really strong craving for alcohol. Before, I have yearned for a drink but I don't think I have really physically felt this bad before. I am shocked that after all this time of being sober that I can still experience this. I am really sad to realise that I still really have a problem being around alcohol. Sure, I'm fine being around other people drinking. I have had a left over bottle of wine in my fridge before .... But insidious vodka in my home? No.
I can't blame my daughter. She won't have realised that it might have this effect on me. It didn't enter any of our heads. But should I ask her to be more thoughtful in future? Do I want my family to know that they still might not be able to trust me?
I am pleased to report that after a bit of pacing around the house and a bit of hand wringing, I gave myself a mental smack across the face. I have been sober for 42 weeks. Dos I really want to give that up for a sip of poison? I've managed to distract myself by putting some washing away and running myself a bath with lots of bubbles.... So, I'm enjoying a soak in the bath whilst looking at reviews for hotel we are staying at when we go on holiday (and blogging on here). I wouldn't be doing this if I were not sober. Luckily, Mr W will be home from work too! Xx
Friday, 20 April 2018
Alcohol, health and anxiety
Back in 2015 I started to feel pretty unwell. I was losing my appetite, I was losing weight, I wasn't sleeping well, I was lethargic to the point that I really had to force myself to even get ready in the morning to go to work. Then, on the walk to the office I would feel like I was going to vomit, I felt hot, sweaty and shaky. Often, I would have to stop and sit down for a minute or two. Then, this feeling started to continue when I arrived at work and would have to exchange the usual pleasantries with my boss - I would have a hot flush and go bright red. I wondered if I was beginning to have an early menopause and hoped these feelings and symptoms wouldn't last too long.
After a little while, I got worse. My hot flushes, nausea and shakiness would happen again throughout the day - particularly when I was having to interact with other people. It was almost like I was nervous. I found that sometimes I couldn't speak properly, I couldn't remember how to say the words I was thinking and then couldn't even think of the word I was trying to say. I couldn't write in front of other people or even sign my name, which was particularly difficult seeing as part of my job is to write and sign my name! I would get that fight or flight feeling and I often would have to get up and leave the room on the pretense of getting a drink of water or going to the loo.
Everytime I had to interact with another person I felt like this. I began to realise that I was suffering from anxiety. During this time I was drinking and smoking heavily and deep down I knew that this was the cause of my anxiety. The wine witch, however, told me that it was nothing to do with her. She helped me deal with my feelings better. She gave me courage! I was convincing myself that I had something seriously wrong with me ... I had a serious illness like cancer, or I was going to have a heart attack. I was convinced that one day, I just wouldn't wake up. I would die in my sleep. I continued to drink copious amounts of wine and vodka. It never entered my mind to try and stop or at least not drink as much. I actually think I drank more.
Then, these 'anxiety attacks' started to affect my personal life even more. Meeting a family member in Costa for a coffee? No chance. Once, my older daughter took me out for lunch. All I wanted to do was leave and I certainly couldn't eat the meal I'd ordered.
Then, these 'anxiety attacks' started to affect my personal life even more. Meeting a family member in Costa for a coffee? No chance. Once, my older daughter took me out for lunch. All I wanted to do was leave and I certainly couldn't eat the meal I'd ordered.
I plucked up the courage to go and see a Doctor. Of course, I didn't tell her the extent of my problems and I certainly did not admit to drinking excessively. When she asked me the usual health questions, I admitted to the odd glass of wine here and there....
The Doctor took some blood to test but agreed that I might be starting an early menopause. The blood test would confirm this, but in the meantime I should start and think about if I wanted to begin taking HRT. This was great news! See! I did have something wrong with me. It wasn't the drinking at all!
After a couple of days, the Doctor rang. My blood test had shown my hormone levels were normal, but the liver function test they had done had shown some abnormalities. My insides threatened to dissolve and depart my body..... I had liver damage I was sure. It turned out that I had a couple of vitamin deficiencies .... B12 and D. I'm positive these were caused by my drinking. My alcohol consumption was preventing my body from producing and processing the things that are meant to keep you healthy.
A course of vitamin D tablets and B12 injections made a massive difference to me ..... but I still kept on bloody drinking! I still wasn't quite right.
But, I can honestly say that since becoming sober, I know longer suffer from anxiety to the extent that I did. Sure, there's been a couple of times when I've started to feel it bubbling to the surface but now I can put it back in its box because I can deal with my feelings better.
Without a doubt (for me) quitting the booze has had a huge positive impact on my health and mental well-being.
A course of vitamin D tablets and B12 injections made a massive difference to me ..... but I still kept on bloody drinking! I still wasn't quite right.
But, I can honestly say that since becoming sober, I know longer suffer from anxiety to the extent that I did. Sure, there's been a couple of times when I've started to feel it bubbling to the surface but now I can put it back in its box because I can deal with my feelings better.
Without a doubt (for me) quitting the booze has had a huge positive impact on my health and mental well-being.
Thursday, 19 April 2018
I LOVE sober mornings!
I woke gently this morning to bird song and one of my favourite Madonna songs 'Live to Tell' playing on the alarm radio. The sun is shining and it feels like summer is finally coming.
Today, we are forecast to have a high temperature of around 23c. In my part of the UK this is positively a heatwave.
I think for the reasons above, I feel almost like I am walking on air (I know, that seems a little far fetched - but I am in such a good mood this morning!) and I have again realised yet another fantasic bonus of being sober: Mornings like this.
Before, I would have been awake since 3am. I would have probably have given in and gotten up. I would have felt like shite - headachey and sluggish. I would have also looked like shite, but I would have been planning the drinking day ahead.
This morning, I took a good look in the mirror with a smile on my face. My eyes are bright, my skin is clear and has a healthy look to it and my hair looks like I've been dragged through a hedge - but healthy.
But, I know that I feel this good because I am sober.
I feel 'normal' ..... I am thinking about alcohol less and less which is a good thing. I also had to work back to find out how many days I have been sober: 285 days!!
Monday, 2 April 2018
My thoughts on: Flavoured Gin
I was alway partial to a drink of sloe gin, but gin in its original format was about the only spirit that I never liked. I didn't like the taste nor the smell. Mind, having said that I didn't much like the taste of vodka ... Or whisky ... But I drank that.
I have noticed lately that Gin is the new wine. My Facebook page has been littered recently with Gin memes: it's gin o'clock, to gin or not to gin, etc.
What used to be nicknamed Mother's ruin is becoming more and more popular, particular with the ever increasing new releases of flavoured gin. You can now buy all sorts of flavours; Parma violet, rhubarb and ginger, strawberry to name a few.
This worries me, in that manufacturers have obviously latched on to the idea that Gin is becoming more popular and are concocting these new flavours to be even more popular. How attractive is a strong spirit that tastes like strawberry juice when mixed with a bit of tonic? How refreshing? It's ideas like this that probably would have drawn me in. I have no doubt that I would have tried it and BAM! I would have been hooked. We all know that spirits like these are incredibly addictive. Some of these gins have a 20% alcohol content.
I once bought a litre bottle of vodka, explaining to Mr W that it would be more economical than buying wine because it would last me much longer. It appeared that I did, but then, I was topping it up with water and smaller bottles of vodka. I actually drank more because (when not taking sneaky drinks of it neat) I was mixing it with coke or tonic. After the first couple of sips, you can't taste the vodka.
I have always considered my sister to be a normal drinker.... Shes always gone out drinking a couple of times a month with friends and drunk cider or Malibu and coke. Now though, she is really into drinking gin and I mean REALLY. Her Facebook page is littered with gin memes, comments about which flavoured gin she's bought, photographs of a just poured large glass of gin, which 'gin palace' is opening locally.
Today though, when visiting her at lunchtime, she was showing me an opened bottle of pink gin she had bought herself. Did I fancy a try of it? Obviously I said "no thanks, I'm driving and I don't drink anymore... Remember?" "Really?" She said - "I thought that you would've given in long before now." (Gee, thanks for the support sis!).
The Sister then proceeded to state "it's Gin o'clock somewhere! I'm having one" and poured what looked to be a pretty generous measure into one of those large gin glasses... The ones that look like you could fit half a bottle of wine into.... She chucked in a bit of ice and a bit of tonic and took a slurp. It was 12.30.
I'm really hoping this was a one off, but my little alky senses are tingling. They don't call Gin Mother's ruin for nothing.
I suspect that before long, instead of seeing articles about people worrying about their wine habit, we will see articles about people being worried about their gin consumption.
I have noticed lately that Gin is the new wine. My Facebook page has been littered recently with Gin memes: it's gin o'clock, to gin or not to gin, etc.
What used to be nicknamed Mother's ruin is becoming more and more popular, particular with the ever increasing new releases of flavoured gin. You can now buy all sorts of flavours; Parma violet, rhubarb and ginger, strawberry to name a few.
This worries me, in that manufacturers have obviously latched on to the idea that Gin is becoming more popular and are concocting these new flavours to be even more popular. How attractive is a strong spirit that tastes like strawberry juice when mixed with a bit of tonic? How refreshing? It's ideas like this that probably would have drawn me in. I have no doubt that I would have tried it and BAM! I would have been hooked. We all know that spirits like these are incredibly addictive. Some of these gins have a 20% alcohol content.
I once bought a litre bottle of vodka, explaining to Mr W that it would be more economical than buying wine because it would last me much longer. It appeared that I did, but then, I was topping it up with water and smaller bottles of vodka. I actually drank more because (when not taking sneaky drinks of it neat) I was mixing it with coke or tonic. After the first couple of sips, you can't taste the vodka.
I have always considered my sister to be a normal drinker.... Shes always gone out drinking a couple of times a month with friends and drunk cider or Malibu and coke. Now though, she is really into drinking gin and I mean REALLY. Her Facebook page is littered with gin memes, comments about which flavoured gin she's bought, photographs of a just poured large glass of gin, which 'gin palace' is opening locally.
Today though, when visiting her at lunchtime, she was showing me an opened bottle of pink gin she had bought herself. Did I fancy a try of it? Obviously I said "no thanks, I'm driving and I don't drink anymore... Remember?" "Really?" She said - "I thought that you would've given in long before now." (Gee, thanks for the support sis!).
The Sister then proceeded to state "it's Gin o'clock somewhere! I'm having one" and poured what looked to be a pretty generous measure into one of those large gin glasses... The ones that look like you could fit half a bottle of wine into.... She chucked in a bit of ice and a bit of tonic and took a slurp. It was 12.30.
I'm really hoping this was a one off, but my little alky senses are tingling. They don't call Gin Mother's ruin for nothing.
I suspect that before long, instead of seeing articles about people worrying about their wine habit, we will see articles about people being worried about their gin consumption.
Saturday, 31 March 2018
My thoughts on: Moderating and 'normal' drinking
As of today I have been sober for 38 weeks... That's 266 days, or almost 9 months!
I have, on occasion, wondered if I would ever be able to moderate or become a 'normal' drinker of alcohol. You know, just have the one small glass of wine on a special occasion. Enjoy a cocktail or two on holiday..... But, then I think how mentally exhausting I would find that. I don't think my brain is wired up to be a normal drinker.... Is there even such a thing?
Being 'normal' means that you don't even think about drinking and, to my mind, if you are even thinking out loud that you are 'normal' then you are not.
I most definitely could not moderate. The endless thinking about drinking/not drinking, the judging of myself. Just having one? Absolutely not me - it would drive me bonkers.
This is why I must remain sober forever more. Being sober is so much more fulfilling than being an alcohol soaked wreck of a woman.
Mr W was a a 'normal' drinker. He could have just the one, or more often than not - none. When I quit drinking, he did too. I didn't ask him and it was never discussed. He just didn't drink anymore. To be honest, I'm pleased he did because I think I've coped better.
What I have noticed is that The Husband cannot stand anyone drinking alcohol anymore. If someone mentions having a drink of booze or brags on Facebook about having a great night out on the lash he can actually be quite derisory about it. You can almost see him turning his nose up. I feel quite sad and guilty about his feelings towards alcohol. I'm sure he has them because of me.
I have noticed that, as time goes on, I am also beginning to feel really negative about people drinking. It's not that I dislike or hate the fact that people drink the stuff - it's more that I don't see the point in drinking alcohol. I drank it purely to get drunk, so that I would sleep/pass out, so I can't fathom yet why people drink it to have a good time or to relax. I am really beginning to see alcohol for what it truly is: a toxin, a drug, a poison.
I'm wondering if it's normal to be feeling like this? I really don't want to be dead set against alcohol - or pious about it.... But it's very hard not to be when you know the damage it can do, when you have been the one causing the damage because you can't control your drinking.
I have, on occasion, wondered if I would ever be able to moderate or become a 'normal' drinker of alcohol. You know, just have the one small glass of wine on a special occasion. Enjoy a cocktail or two on holiday..... But, then I think how mentally exhausting I would find that. I don't think my brain is wired up to be a normal drinker.... Is there even such a thing?
Being 'normal' means that you don't even think about drinking and, to my mind, if you are even thinking out loud that you are 'normal' then you are not.
I most definitely could not moderate. The endless thinking about drinking/not drinking, the judging of myself. Just having one? Absolutely not me - it would drive me bonkers.
This is why I must remain sober forever more. Being sober is so much more fulfilling than being an alcohol soaked wreck of a woman.
Mr W was a a 'normal' drinker. He could have just the one, or more often than not - none. When I quit drinking, he did too. I didn't ask him and it was never discussed. He just didn't drink anymore. To be honest, I'm pleased he did because I think I've coped better.
What I have noticed is that The Husband cannot stand anyone drinking alcohol anymore. If someone mentions having a drink of booze or brags on Facebook about having a great night out on the lash he can actually be quite derisory about it. You can almost see him turning his nose up. I feel quite sad and guilty about his feelings towards alcohol. I'm sure he has them because of me.
I have noticed that, as time goes on, I am also beginning to feel really negative about people drinking. It's not that I dislike or hate the fact that people drink the stuff - it's more that I don't see the point in drinking alcohol. I drank it purely to get drunk, so that I would sleep/pass out, so I can't fathom yet why people drink it to have a good time or to relax. I am really beginning to see alcohol for what it truly is: a toxin, a drug, a poison.
I'm wondering if it's normal to be feeling like this? I really don't want to be dead set against alcohol - or pious about it.... But it's very hard not to be when you know the damage it can do, when you have been the one causing the damage because you can't control your drinking.
Monday, 26 March 2018
Looking back with rose tinted glasses
For the last week or so, I've been thinking a lot about my drinking habit.
Previously, when I've thought about my drinking, I've practically beat myself up about the bad parts of it .... the blackouts, etc. This time around, the memories that have popped into my head have been 'the good times' .... that is, the edited 'good times'. The glass of wine while catching up with an old friend, the glass of wine during a romantic meal out with Mr W.
These memories have made me feel wistful. If only I was a normal drinker - I could enjoy the odd glass of wine. These feelings aren't exactly cravings. It's very hard to explain - they are just 'feelings', but they also make me think could I moderate? Could I?
Deep, deep down, I know I'm viewing my past through rose tinted glasses. Those lovely romantic thoughts of that lovely glass of chilled white wine whilst catching up with a friend are bullshit. I know they are. I won't stop at just one. I didn't last time. The thing is, I don't want to think about the bad stuff anymore. I'm fed up of beating myself up. How long should I self flagellate?
It's mainly the thought of letting my husband and my girls down that really, really help me to continue with my sobriety. That, and the fact that I feel so much better about myself and I feel so 'alive' (well, mostly).
My quality of sleep also seems to be improving at long last. I bought a new bed and mattress and that seems to have helped enormously. I used my wine fund to buy the new bed.
Knowing that I have 'saved' a shitload of money by not buying booze is a great motivator.
Thus, I have used this reason to motivate myself even more not to drink ever again:
Last Saturday, I have been sober for 259 days. Working on the average that I spent around £10.00 per day on booze (sometimes this would be less or more), I worked out that I would have spent at least £2,590.00 on something that was killing me.
My finances are so much better now that I'm not wasting all that money on booze (or cigarettes for that matter - and my smoking habit was pretty much 20 a day... sometimes more).
So, after doing my sums, and in order to help me continue being sober, I went and got finance to purchase a brand new car at the weekend.
Had I still been drinking (and smoking) there wouldn't have been a cat's chance in hell that I could afford the repayments.
Obviously I wouldn't recommend that you just go up and buy something really expensive on credit, but for me I feel that doing it has given me a big reward for being sober and is a massive motivator to remain sober.
Previously, when I've thought about my drinking, I've practically beat myself up about the bad parts of it .... the blackouts, etc. This time around, the memories that have popped into my head have been 'the good times' .... that is, the edited 'good times'. The glass of wine while catching up with an old friend, the glass of wine during a romantic meal out with Mr W.
These memories have made me feel wistful. If only I was a normal drinker - I could enjoy the odd glass of wine. These feelings aren't exactly cravings. It's very hard to explain - they are just 'feelings', but they also make me think could I moderate? Could I?
Deep, deep down, I know I'm viewing my past through rose tinted glasses. Those lovely romantic thoughts of that lovely glass of chilled white wine whilst catching up with a friend are bullshit. I know they are. I won't stop at just one. I didn't last time. The thing is, I don't want to think about the bad stuff anymore. I'm fed up of beating myself up. How long should I self flagellate?
It's mainly the thought of letting my husband and my girls down that really, really help me to continue with my sobriety. That, and the fact that I feel so much better about myself and I feel so 'alive' (well, mostly).
My quality of sleep also seems to be improving at long last. I bought a new bed and mattress and that seems to have helped enormously. I used my wine fund to buy the new bed.
Knowing that I have 'saved' a shitload of money by not buying booze is a great motivator.
Thus, I have used this reason to motivate myself even more not to drink ever again:
Last Saturday, I have been sober for 259 days. Working on the average that I spent around £10.00 per day on booze (sometimes this would be less or more), I worked out that I would have spent at least £2,590.00 on something that was killing me.
My finances are so much better now that I'm not wasting all that money on booze (or cigarettes for that matter - and my smoking habit was pretty much 20 a day... sometimes more).
So, after doing my sums, and in order to help me continue being sober, I went and got finance to purchase a brand new car at the weekend.
Had I still been drinking (and smoking) there wouldn't have been a cat's chance in hell that I could afford the repayments.
Obviously I wouldn't recommend that you just go up and buy something really expensive on credit, but for me I feel that doing it has given me a big reward for being sober and is a massive motivator to remain sober.
Sunday, 11 March 2018
35 weeks and 1 day sober
I am now 35 weeks and 1 day / 8 months sober. When you write it down it doesn't seem like much does it? It feels like an age though.
I like 246 days though. It looks like more of an accomplishment, so therefore it feels like one.
I feel almost normal. I don't think too much about alcohol anymore, but when I do it feels like I've been smacked across the back of my head.
Take yesterday, when clearing out kitchen cupboards I came across a bottle of fizz that has been there for some time. At first, I thought nothing of it except that it must belong to one of the girls. A little while later, I began to reason to myself that I could drink it and no-one would know. Everyone was out, the girls wouldn't be home, the Husband was working a late shift, I didn't have to go out. I could drink it all and go sleep it off.
Obviously, I didn't. I "played it forward", I made myself realise that I would put myself right back to square one.
I am still a work in progress and suspect I will be for sometime.
This morning I feel more up beat. It's Mothering Sunday and my girls have promised to cook our dinner (I'm hoping they'll clear up after themselves too).
Compared to this time last year I am a zillion times better. This time last year I was a complete mess: Funny thing is, I didn't have a blackout. I remember it all very well... Too well.
It was my mother's birthday; a special milestone one. As usual, it was left to me to organise something special. Mother doesn't like parties and didn't want anything too extravagant so I organised a family meal in a nice restaurant. I had agreed with my siblings that we would split the cost of my mother and fathers meal between us.
By this time, I was in a pretty bad place. I was drinking during the day, over the weekend, when I could - when my husband was working mid or late shifts.. I would be up and about early, go shopping and buy two bottles of wine. One for the day and one for night. I'd drink most if not all of one bottle and then go to bed for a few hours to sleep it off.
On this particular day (of the family meal) even though I swore I wouldn't, I drank during the day and then went to bed for a bit. I then got up in plenty of time to get ready for the meal. I didn't feel right (I was still pissed). I had a glass of wine while I got ready.
Anyway, the family meal was a bit of a shambles, the service was crap, my father drank like a fish because he knew he wasn't paying for it. My sister made out as though she was the one who had organised everything. At the end of the night, I was the one charged with working out what everyone owed. I am not mathematically challenged, but I'd had a lot to drink throughout the day and I knew I was borderline rat-arsed. Most just gave me a rounded amount. Taking into account that myself and my two other siblings were sharing the cost of our parents, I knew my brother had given me too much and had mentioned that I would sort it all out properly in the morning.
The following morning, I received a pretty sarcastic text from my sister. She had worked everything out and my brother had paid me too much. I needed to give him back £20.00. The text annoyed me. How dare she! She had done nothing to help with the arrangements and hadn't helped with the workings out the night before. I worked out the figures myself. If I gave my brother back some money, and taking into account what food had been ordered and what had been drunk by my siblings and their dependents, I had paid £60.00 towards my parents meal. My brother had paid £10.00. My sister paid £1.00. Yes, that's right! £1.00!
Unfortunately, I stewed for a while following the text, I drank and I did not handle the situation well. I texted back eventually to say that she should have been the designated calculater for the night, I knew my brother had paid too much... And in actual fact, she had paid just £1.00 towards the cost of my parents meal. So, perhaps she could stump up a bit more cash instead of being all high and mighty.
The situation escalated. My sister got my brother and mother involved. I drank. I fell out with them all and I drank a bit more. Then, I cried.
I had to call in sick to work the next day because I felt so poorly and hungover.
I do think that if I had been sober I may very well have still responded in the same way. I do think I was justified, but I think I would have handled whatever happened after much better.
That episode was just one in a long list of my drunken escapades, but this one didn't make me stop
drinking. It took me another four months.
By comparison, this year I am going to spend the day chilling. I may not even change out of my pyjamas!
Happy Sunday!! X
I like 246 days though. It looks like more of an accomplishment, so therefore it feels like one.
I feel almost normal. I don't think too much about alcohol anymore, but when I do it feels like I've been smacked across the back of my head.
Take yesterday, when clearing out kitchen cupboards I came across a bottle of fizz that has been there for some time. At first, I thought nothing of it except that it must belong to one of the girls. A little while later, I began to reason to myself that I could drink it and no-one would know. Everyone was out, the girls wouldn't be home, the Husband was working a late shift, I didn't have to go out. I could drink it all and go sleep it off.
Obviously, I didn't. I "played it forward", I made myself realise that I would put myself right back to square one.
I am still a work in progress and suspect I will be for sometime.
This morning I feel more up beat. It's Mothering Sunday and my girls have promised to cook our dinner (I'm hoping they'll clear up after themselves too).
Compared to this time last year I am a zillion times better. This time last year I was a complete mess: Funny thing is, I didn't have a blackout. I remember it all very well... Too well.
It was my mother's birthday; a special milestone one. As usual, it was left to me to organise something special. Mother doesn't like parties and didn't want anything too extravagant so I organised a family meal in a nice restaurant. I had agreed with my siblings that we would split the cost of my mother and fathers meal between us.
By this time, I was in a pretty bad place. I was drinking during the day, over the weekend, when I could - when my husband was working mid or late shifts.. I would be up and about early, go shopping and buy two bottles of wine. One for the day and one for night. I'd drink most if not all of one bottle and then go to bed for a few hours to sleep it off.
On this particular day (of the family meal) even though I swore I wouldn't, I drank during the day and then went to bed for a bit. I then got up in plenty of time to get ready for the meal. I didn't feel right (I was still pissed). I had a glass of wine while I got ready.
Anyway, the family meal was a bit of a shambles, the service was crap, my father drank like a fish because he knew he wasn't paying for it. My sister made out as though she was the one who had organised everything. At the end of the night, I was the one charged with working out what everyone owed. I am not mathematically challenged, but I'd had a lot to drink throughout the day and I knew I was borderline rat-arsed. Most just gave me a rounded amount. Taking into account that myself and my two other siblings were sharing the cost of our parents, I knew my brother had given me too much and had mentioned that I would sort it all out properly in the morning.
The following morning, I received a pretty sarcastic text from my sister. She had worked everything out and my brother had paid me too much. I needed to give him back £20.00. The text annoyed me. How dare she! She had done nothing to help with the arrangements and hadn't helped with the workings out the night before. I worked out the figures myself. If I gave my brother back some money, and taking into account what food had been ordered and what had been drunk by my siblings and their dependents, I had paid £60.00 towards my parents meal. My brother had paid £10.00. My sister paid £1.00. Yes, that's right! £1.00!
Unfortunately, I stewed for a while following the text, I drank and I did not handle the situation well. I texted back eventually to say that she should have been the designated calculater for the night, I knew my brother had paid too much... And in actual fact, she had paid just £1.00 towards the cost of my parents meal. So, perhaps she could stump up a bit more cash instead of being all high and mighty.
The situation escalated. My sister got my brother and mother involved. I drank. I fell out with them all and I drank a bit more. Then, I cried.
I had to call in sick to work the next day because I felt so poorly and hungover.
I do think that if I had been sober I may very well have still responded in the same way. I do think I was justified, but I think I would have handled whatever happened after much better.
That episode was just one in a long list of my drunken escapades, but this one didn't make me stop
drinking. It took me another four months.
By comparison, this year I am going to spend the day chilling. I may not even change out of my pyjamas!
Happy Sunday!! X
Tuesday, 6 February 2018
Mrs W: Meet Gym
A little while ago I posted about having quit smoking and drinking, but not filling my time with anything else.
For years I have sat at home drinking alone. I've turned down all sorts of invitations, because the ability to being able to have a drink was always at the forefront of my mind. Any activities that involved me having to drive were completely out. All of this has made me completely unsociable.
And, as much as I love my family and being around them - particularly now that I'm sober and am 'present', you can be around them a little too much. I think I've reached that point.
I've been feeling bored and frustrated and I need interaction with others. I also need to drop some weight.
There's only one person that can change that, and that is me! I've taken the plunge and I have met Gym!
So far, I've done a couple of sessions in the gym, I've done some classes and I've gone swimming. I haven't lost any weight yet (I might if I cut out the sweet stuff) and I have discovered muscles I never knew existed. I have also found, particularly for the classes, that there are some really friendly people. At one of my first classes last week, I had a chat with a couple of women - this week, they both approached me for a chat, pleased that I had come back, etc.
Now, I know that I'm not going to have throngs of new besties anytime soon, but I'm working on it.
If only I had known it would be this easy, I might have done it sooner.
For years I have sat at home drinking alone. I've turned down all sorts of invitations, because the ability to being able to have a drink was always at the forefront of my mind. Any activities that involved me having to drive were completely out. All of this has made me completely unsociable.
And, as much as I love my family and being around them - particularly now that I'm sober and am 'present', you can be around them a little too much. I think I've reached that point.
I've been feeling bored and frustrated and I need interaction with others. I also need to drop some weight.
There's only one person that can change that, and that is me! I've taken the plunge and I have met Gym!
So far, I've done a couple of sessions in the gym, I've done some classes and I've gone swimming. I haven't lost any weight yet (I might if I cut out the sweet stuff) and I have discovered muscles I never knew existed. I have also found, particularly for the classes, that there are some really friendly people. At one of my first classes last week, I had a chat with a couple of women - this week, they both approached me for a chat, pleased that I had come back, etc.
Now, I know that I'm not going to have throngs of new besties anytime soon, but I'm working on it.
If only I had known it would be this easy, I might have done it sooner.
Thursday, 1 February 2018
Tick! That was me.
Over the last few years, before becoming sober, I avidly read many blogs and books about women who are/have been alcohol dependent. They all made me 'think' about being sober. They all made me feel incredibly guilty. Here's the almost funny part - I read them whilst drinking copious amounts of wine and vodka! Most of what I read that had made me think and feel guilty was forgotten by the morning (although I would still begin with the mindset that I would not drink that day).
Now, at 207 days sober I am still an avid reader of these blogs and books. However, this time, I remember what I'm reading. In fact, I've been re-reading various blogs and books.
For some bizarre reason I like to read about other people's problems with alcohol. I do find them inspiring. Sometime I think I'm just morbid or perhaps, underneath it all, it makes me feel slightly better about myself to know that (if I search hard enough) I will find someone who was worse than me. That's not really a nice way to think is it?
The Living Sober site (It's a New Zealand website) does a series of Sober Stories. Most of the participants have been sober for a long, long time. Some of the stories have made me say "Wow", but mostly I've been thinking 'Yip, that was me' and 'I used to do that'. Lots of the stories there are really encouraging to me.... people have been sober for years!
There's a book called 'Best Kept Secret' written by Amy Hatvany. I've read it for a third time and have realised, the previous two times when I have read it, I have missed or forgotten huge chunks of it. Cadence starts out as a 'normal' drinker. Things start to go wrong in her life and before she knows it, she's practically drinking wine for breakfast. This book really made me realise how bloody lucky I have been. I could have lost it all.... would have lost it all had I continued to drink ...... and strongly suspect I will lose it all if I ever touch another drop of alcohol.
I also found a blog written by a husband about his alcoholic wife. It's written over a period of a few years. It was an interesting but very difficult read and I did get the feeling that the husband and his children had really begun to hate the wife, which is not surprising but I did find it a bit uncomfortable - but that was probably because this blog really cut to the bone (it being the husband's side of things). Here are some random extracts of the blog that really that really stood out for me:
"The first thing to go when she drinks is her ability to speak. The brain disconnects and it’s very difficult to have a conversation. She repeats things, says very strange things, and has difficulty phrasing words." This was me to a 'T'. My husband would often say "You've already told me that" or "What did you say?". This is all very embarrassing now and makes me cringe - but at the time you do think you are acting normally, while being totally rat-arsed.
"It would be nice if it lasted a day or two more." The subject wife in this blog would occasionally realise that she'd gone too far and would go for a day or two without drinking. My husband often would say things like "Wait till I get home before you open the wine", "take it easy" and "have your tea first". Of course, I did ...... not. I would also often have a blackout. In the morning, I'd know that something had happened - but wouldn't have a clue what. I'd swear that I was going to quit drinking ..... for a day or two. I'm certain my husband also thought the same as this blogger.
"It has always amazed me the way she can get alcohol so easily and often." Oh, us alcoholics have our ways and means don't we? Changing the shops we buy the booze from to prevent us getting that 'image of being an alkie' or just nipping to the corner shop for some cling film. I also used to worry myself stupid over our finances and hated having to look at the bank statement. I used to worry that I couldn't afford this, that and the other. But, I always had enough money to buy booze. Your finances tend to improve greatly when you're not spending roughly £60 - 70.00 a week on booze!
"I took her purse with me and in the bathroom I opened it to find a pint of vodka. She didn’t even hide it in a water bottle. It was almost empty and I threw it away." This one really makes me cringe with shame. I knew all the hiding places; in your handbag? Tick - no-one goes into your handbag, right? Beneath your knickers in your underwear drawer? Underneath the bed? In the coat pocket of that coat you don't wear anymore? The list is endless. I was creative about my hiding places if nothing else. Unfortunately, you also have to remember where these hiding places are. Just after Christmas I was cleaning out some of my bedroom drawers where I keep my lotions and potions to accommodate all of my new gifts. I came across an empty mini bottle of wine that I had hidden - in a box containing heated hair curlers. I mean - really?
I also watched a documentary called 'There's something wrong with Aunt Diane' as well as reading lots and lots of articles about Diane Schuler (the subject of the documentary). This story is horrific. Diane was a high-flyer, earning mega bucks who had it all. After a weekend camping she ended up driving down the wrong side of the Taconic State Parkway for over 1.5 miles before hitting another vehicle head-on. She killed herself and seven other people - four of them children (3 of her nieces and her own daughter). She also seriously injured her surviving son. It turns out that she was drunk and high. At the time of her death she still had the equivalent of 10 shots of vodka in her stomach.
Apparently - no-one knew she was a functioning alcoholic. Not even her husband (I do think he must have had some inkling). She hid it very, very well.
The point of the title of the documentary 'There's something wrong with Aunt Diane' is that before the accident, one of her nieces had rung her father to say something was wrong. Allegedly, Diane was told to stay where she was - someone would come and get them. She didn't. Whilst no-one will ever know what happened, I can't help but think that perhaps she knew she'd been rumbled for being drunk while driving. She knew she was in massive trouble and thought "sod it, let's end it".
The documentary made me think of all the times I drove when I shouldn't have and was probably still impaired. The times I drove to work in the morning and wondered how I'd gotten there. It reminded me of how secretive I became to ensure that nobody knew the extent of my drinking problem. If I had died because of an issue with drinking alcohol, how many people would have been amazed that I had a problem?
Anyhow. I can now say "Tick! That was me."
Now, at 207 days sober I am still an avid reader of these blogs and books. However, this time, I remember what I'm reading. In fact, I've been re-reading various blogs and books.
For some bizarre reason I like to read about other people's problems with alcohol. I do find them inspiring. Sometime I think I'm just morbid or perhaps, underneath it all, it makes me feel slightly better about myself to know that (if I search hard enough) I will find someone who was worse than me. That's not really a nice way to think is it?
The Living Sober site (It's a New Zealand website) does a series of Sober Stories. Most of the participants have been sober for a long, long time. Some of the stories have made me say "Wow", but mostly I've been thinking 'Yip, that was me' and 'I used to do that'. Lots of the stories there are really encouraging to me.... people have been sober for years!
There's a book called 'Best Kept Secret' written by Amy Hatvany. I've read it for a third time and have realised, the previous two times when I have read it, I have missed or forgotten huge chunks of it. Cadence starts out as a 'normal' drinker. Things start to go wrong in her life and before she knows it, she's practically drinking wine for breakfast. This book really made me realise how bloody lucky I have been. I could have lost it all.... would have lost it all had I continued to drink ...... and strongly suspect I will lose it all if I ever touch another drop of alcohol.
I also found a blog written by a husband about his alcoholic wife. It's written over a period of a few years. It was an interesting but very difficult read and I did get the feeling that the husband and his children had really begun to hate the wife, which is not surprising but I did find it a bit uncomfortable - but that was probably because this blog really cut to the bone (it being the husband's side of things). Here are some random extracts of the blog that really that really stood out for me:
"The first thing to go when she drinks is her ability to speak. The brain disconnects and it’s very difficult to have a conversation. She repeats things, says very strange things, and has difficulty phrasing words." This was me to a 'T'. My husband would often say "You've already told me that" or "What did you say?". This is all very embarrassing now and makes me cringe - but at the time you do think you are acting normally, while being totally rat-arsed.
"It would be nice if it lasted a day or two more." The subject wife in this blog would occasionally realise that she'd gone too far and would go for a day or two without drinking. My husband often would say things like "Wait till I get home before you open the wine", "take it easy" and "have your tea first". Of course, I did ...... not. I would also often have a blackout. In the morning, I'd know that something had happened - but wouldn't have a clue what. I'd swear that I was going to quit drinking ..... for a day or two. I'm certain my husband also thought the same as this blogger.
"It has always amazed me the way she can get alcohol so easily and often." Oh, us alcoholics have our ways and means don't we? Changing the shops we buy the booze from to prevent us getting that 'image of being an alkie' or just nipping to the corner shop for some cling film. I also used to worry myself stupid over our finances and hated having to look at the bank statement. I used to worry that I couldn't afford this, that and the other. But, I always had enough money to buy booze. Your finances tend to improve greatly when you're not spending roughly £60 - 70.00 a week on booze!
"I took her purse with me and in the bathroom I opened it to find a pint of vodka. She didn’t even hide it in a water bottle. It was almost empty and I threw it away." This one really makes me cringe with shame. I knew all the hiding places; in your handbag? Tick - no-one goes into your handbag, right? Beneath your knickers in your underwear drawer? Underneath the bed? In the coat pocket of that coat you don't wear anymore? The list is endless. I was creative about my hiding places if nothing else. Unfortunately, you also have to remember where these hiding places are. Just after Christmas I was cleaning out some of my bedroom drawers where I keep my lotions and potions to accommodate all of my new gifts. I came across an empty mini bottle of wine that I had hidden - in a box containing heated hair curlers. I mean - really?
I also watched a documentary called 'There's something wrong with Aunt Diane' as well as reading lots and lots of articles about Diane Schuler (the subject of the documentary). This story is horrific. Diane was a high-flyer, earning mega bucks who had it all. After a weekend camping she ended up driving down the wrong side of the Taconic State Parkway for over 1.5 miles before hitting another vehicle head-on. She killed herself and seven other people - four of them children (3 of her nieces and her own daughter). She also seriously injured her surviving son. It turns out that she was drunk and high. At the time of her death she still had the equivalent of 10 shots of vodka in her stomach.
Apparently - no-one knew she was a functioning alcoholic. Not even her husband (I do think he must have had some inkling). She hid it very, very well.
The point of the title of the documentary 'There's something wrong with Aunt Diane' is that before the accident, one of her nieces had rung her father to say something was wrong. Allegedly, Diane was told to stay where she was - someone would come and get them. She didn't. Whilst no-one will ever know what happened, I can't help but think that perhaps she knew she'd been rumbled for being drunk while driving. She knew she was in massive trouble and thought "sod it, let's end it".
The documentary made me think of all the times I drove when I shouldn't have and was probably still impaired. The times I drove to work in the morning and wondered how I'd gotten there. It reminded me of how secretive I became to ensure that nobody knew the extent of my drinking problem. If I had died because of an issue with drinking alcohol, how many people would have been amazed that I had a problem?
Anyhow. I can now say "Tick! That was me."
Tuesday, 23 January 2018
Post Acute Withdrawal Syndrome
Why can't people just see/telepathically know that I'm in a foul mood and then avoid getting on my nerves?
For the past few days I have been extremely irritable. Everyone, and I mean EVERYONE, is getting on my nerves. I feel like I am a ticking bomb ... just ready to go BANG. I'm also incredibly tired - I'm not sleeping very well and I am really struggling to crawl out of bed in the morning. I'm emotional and teary one moment and then raging the next. I feel so lethargic that, if a £20.00 note floated in front of me, I'd ignore it.
I am imagining myself as the Hulk.......... you wouldn't like me when I'm angry. I feel like a bear with a smacked arse. I feel incredibly miserable and I feel bored.
This morning, I counted how many days I've been sober to see if I could cheer myself up a bit. It's been 199 days and no, it hasn't cheered me up.
Inevitably, these feelings have made the wine witch crawl out from under the rock she was hiding under.
Last night was particularly bad. I'd had an awful day at work - a combination of a grumpy boss (who was grumpier than me) and moaning clients. Mr W had had a day off work and had done feck all at home and the girls were having a 'let's gang up on mother' night. I felt so wound up that had I really, really wanted to pay a visit to the corner shop for a bottle of red. I didn't of course. I took myself off for a hot bubble bath and a good read of my current book of choice.
This feeling of 'fuck it' really surprised me. After being sober for six months, I was not expecting the strength of the 'fuck it'.
I realise that these feelings are probably down to Post Acute Withdrawal Syndrome (Dr Google told me so). That and a mixture of my hormones (I think I'm also a bit menopausal). I know that I will only feel like this for a few days or so. It will pass soon.
I also think that I really need to 'do' something more with myself in my spare time. I've given up my cigarette and wine hobby but I haven't replaced them with anything. It's true that, by giving up the booze, I have so much more time - but what is the point of that if all I am doing is sitting at home vegetating? I do like to read and I've been doing much more of that now that I don't have to re-read the same sentence over and over again (or fall asleep), but I'm getting a bit fed-up with reading.
I'm also not exactly a 'sociable' person. I lost that ability when I drank more and more at home.
I'm the only one who can help myself. I've now gained so much weight from not smoking and drinking that I can't breath when I put on my socks! So, I've been thinking about joining the gym at the local leisure centre. Tonight, I think the family can fend for themselves for a change whilst I go and see about enrolling at the gym...
Monday, 15 January 2018
Brain Fog
This morning I am 191 days sober. I have woken up with what I think is the beginning of a cold.
Firstly, this is a bit of a shock to my system because since I stopped drinking booze I have not once felt really poorly - enough to make me not really want to get of bed or enough for me to think about calling in sick at work. Whilst people around me have been dropping like flies with colds, flu, the Norovirus and other ailments, I have remained healthy.
I have had a couple of occasions where, usually at night, I've felt as though I was getting a cold or something - you know, a bit headachy, slightly dry throat, a tickle at the back of the nose. Every time, I have woke up absolutely fine. I completely credit this to not drinking alcohol. Because I am not drinking booze, my immune system must be much, much healthier.
So this morning, I feel like my head might explode (or at least fall off my shoulders) and I feel 'not quite with it'..... I feel like I have brain fog.
I am being reminded of how I used to feel every day when I eventually crawled out of bed feeling (and looking) like shite until just over six months ago. How I was never 'quite with it' for sometime - usually until after several cups of coffee.
I am being reminded of people speaking to me and me not really taking it in. I could hear them fine, I just couldn't comprehend what they were telling me. I must have looked so gormless.
The times when I would seriously contemplate not going to work. (I have done this a few times
The times when I drove to work and couldn't really remember most of the driving. (This makes me feel really ashamed of myself because I was possibly still over the legal limit to drive)
At least, though, I can console myself with the fact that this morning I may feel like crap and have major brain fog until the cold remedy kicks in because I am getting a cold and not because I am hungover!
I'm pretty sure that if I was still drinking and would have felt a million times worse..... in fact, I more than likely would have had a sick day from work.
Another bonus to being AF!
Firstly, this is a bit of a shock to my system because since I stopped drinking booze I have not once felt really poorly - enough to make me not really want to get of bed or enough for me to think about calling in sick at work. Whilst people around me have been dropping like flies with colds, flu, the Norovirus and other ailments, I have remained healthy.
I have had a couple of occasions where, usually at night, I've felt as though I was getting a cold or something - you know, a bit headachy, slightly dry throat, a tickle at the back of the nose. Every time, I have woke up absolutely fine. I completely credit this to not drinking alcohol. Because I am not drinking booze, my immune system must be much, much healthier.
So this morning, I feel like my head might explode (or at least fall off my shoulders) and I feel 'not quite with it'..... I feel like I have brain fog.
I am being reminded of how I used to feel every day when I eventually crawled out of bed feeling (and looking) like shite until just over six months ago. How I was never 'quite with it' for sometime - usually until after several cups of coffee.
I am being reminded of people speaking to me and me not really taking it in. I could hear them fine, I just couldn't comprehend what they were telling me. I must have looked so gormless.
The times when I would seriously contemplate not going to work. (I have done this a few times
The times when I drove to work and couldn't really remember most of the driving. (This makes me feel really ashamed of myself because I was possibly still over the legal limit to drive)
At least, though, I can console myself with the fact that this morning I may feel like crap and have major brain fog until the cold remedy kicks in because I am getting a cold and not because I am hungover!
I'm pretty sure that if I was still drinking and would have felt a million times worse..... in fact, I more than likely would have had a sick day from work.
Another bonus to being AF!
Tuesday, 9 January 2018
Six months sober!
On Saturday past, I have been sober for six months. So, how do I feel?
Truthfully, it feels like I've been sober for an eternity, but I also feel very fortunate that being sober hasn't been as difficult as I anticipated it would, although it has not been easy. I am also very very aware that it is still only early days and I still have a long way to go. It's getting easier and easier.
There will be no moderation for me. I will never ever be a 'normal drinker'. I can never drink alcohol again. More importantly I have to never WANT to drink again. Sometimes I think it is this concept that I struggle with more. This is the wine witch tapping on my shoulder. I imagine using my fingers to flick her off.
The benefits of not drinking booze have been amazing so far. My skin and hair are better, my eyes are brighter. My finances are better. Those niggly pains have gone. My anxiety has all but disappeared. Best of all, I am happier. Even better than that - my husband and children are even happier. No longer do they have a sozzled mother/wife who cared about nothing else but booze. Now they have someone who is fully there. Someone who can remember conversations and arrangements from the night before.
The only 'bad' thing is that I have put on tons of weight... But that's a battle for another day.
Quitting booze for good has got to be one of the best decisions I have ever made. It took me a while... I read blogs galore, I read books, I watched documentaries... One called 'There's something wrong with Aunt Diane' which was pretty awful. I finally had to get to my rock bottom for me to finally quit.
I am a completely different person to what I was six months ago. I am me again! I am getting my life back.
Truthfully, it feels like I've been sober for an eternity, but I also feel very fortunate that being sober hasn't been as difficult as I anticipated it would, although it has not been easy. I am also very very aware that it is still only early days and I still have a long way to go. It's getting easier and easier.
There will be no moderation for me. I will never ever be a 'normal drinker'. I can never drink alcohol again. More importantly I have to never WANT to drink again. Sometimes I think it is this concept that I struggle with more. This is the wine witch tapping on my shoulder. I imagine using my fingers to flick her off.
The benefits of not drinking booze have been amazing so far. My skin and hair are better, my eyes are brighter. My finances are better. Those niggly pains have gone. My anxiety has all but disappeared. Best of all, I am happier. Even better than that - my husband and children are even happier. No longer do they have a sozzled mother/wife who cared about nothing else but booze. Now they have someone who is fully there. Someone who can remember conversations and arrangements from the night before.
The only 'bad' thing is that I have put on tons of weight... But that's a battle for another day.
Quitting booze for good has got to be one of the best decisions I have ever made. It took me a while... I read blogs galore, I read books, I watched documentaries... One called 'There's something wrong with Aunt Diane' which was pretty awful. I finally had to get to my rock bottom for me to finally quit.
I am a completely different person to what I was six months ago. I am me again! I am getting my life back.
Saturday, 6 January 2018
A Saturday in the life of the previous me
A day in the life of the previous me:
It's 9.15am on a Saturday morning. Had I not had my kick up the arse rock bottom, my day would have gone like this:
I'd have had a crap nights sleep, but I would have gotten up early - feeling and looking like death warmed up with a candle. There is a purpose to me getting up and getting ready early though. I'm already thinking about drinking booze. The husband will be leaving to go to work soon and won't finish until 7pm. Plenty of time. The girls aren't home and probably won't be back until tomorrow. I'm not expecting visitors (or, rather I'm hoping there won't be any). I can drink and be perfectly normal by the time he gets home.
I tell the husband that I'm off to the supermarket to get the shopping before it gets too busy. I hate crowded places. I'll see him when he gets home from work. He asks me to stay awake for when he gets home. This means don't drink much. I tell him I will .... But, you know I tell him, I was up really early and I didn't sleep well. We both know I'll be halfway sloshed when he gets home.
I've already checked the cupboard where I store the wine. I'm sure I had at least a glass left in the bottle last night. I left that much so it looked like I hadn't drunk much ... But, with the help of my hidden supply, I'd had plenty. There's no wine left in the cupboard. I'm annoyed and irritated. How dare he touch MY wine!
I rush around the supermarket like a mad woman. I give no real thought about what I'm making for meals. I buy two bottles of wine. The one that tastes ok but has a highish alcohol content.. 13% (yippee).
I get home by 10.30am. Plenty of time. I put the shopping away. One bottle of wine goes in the cupboard. The other stays on the worktop... Calling my name. Have just a little, then you can do some housework and then have a well deserved nap. I pour some into a cup - if anyone does come, they won't see what I'm drinking. I hide the open bottle behind the microwave. An hour or so later, the bottle of wine is empty. I'm drunk and I've done very little housework. It's 12 noon. I take myself off to bed for my nap. I'm shattered. It must be because I was up so early.
I wake up at 4pm feeling like death warmed up with a candle. I've missed two calls from my mother and I've a text from her: Are you in? Your car is outside and I knocked but you must be out with .. I didn't even hear my phone ring. It's on my bedside table. I didn't hear her knocking at my front door either.
I make myself a really really strong black coffee and rush around (as best you can when you are lethargic) tidying up and getting tea on the go. My husband gets home at about 7.30pm. I've already had a glass of wine - hair of the dog and all that.
Bugger! I forgot ...did I get rid of the empty bottle is hidden behind the microwave?
A whole day wasted. That is what I had become towards the end of my drinking days. All consumed by booze.
Thinking of this, I still feel a sense of shame and disgust at myself.
If you are reading this, did you have days like this too?
In a weird kind of way I am glad that I hit my rock bottom. I know that I wouldn't have made the decision to quit otherwise. I dread to think what I would be like now!
It's 9.15am on a Saturday morning. Had I not had my kick up the arse rock bottom, my day would have gone like this:
I'd have had a crap nights sleep, but I would have gotten up early - feeling and looking like death warmed up with a candle. There is a purpose to me getting up and getting ready early though. I'm already thinking about drinking booze. The husband will be leaving to go to work soon and won't finish until 7pm. Plenty of time. The girls aren't home and probably won't be back until tomorrow. I'm not expecting visitors (or, rather I'm hoping there won't be any). I can drink and be perfectly normal by the time he gets home.
I tell the husband that I'm off to the supermarket to get the shopping before it gets too busy. I hate crowded places. I'll see him when he gets home from work. He asks me to stay awake for when he gets home. This means don't drink much. I tell him I will .... But, you know I tell him, I was up really early and I didn't sleep well. We both know I'll be halfway sloshed when he gets home.
I've already checked the cupboard where I store the wine. I'm sure I had at least a glass left in the bottle last night. I left that much so it looked like I hadn't drunk much ... But, with the help of my hidden supply, I'd had plenty. There's no wine left in the cupboard. I'm annoyed and irritated. How dare he touch MY wine!
I rush around the supermarket like a mad woman. I give no real thought about what I'm making for meals. I buy two bottles of wine. The one that tastes ok but has a highish alcohol content.. 13% (yippee).
I get home by 10.30am. Plenty of time. I put the shopping away. One bottle of wine goes in the cupboard. The other stays on the worktop... Calling my name. Have just a little, then you can do some housework and then have a well deserved nap. I pour some into a cup - if anyone does come, they won't see what I'm drinking. I hide the open bottle behind the microwave. An hour or so later, the bottle of wine is empty. I'm drunk and I've done very little housework. It's 12 noon. I take myself off to bed for my nap. I'm shattered. It must be because I was up so early.
I wake up at 4pm feeling like death warmed up with a candle. I've missed two calls from my mother and I've a text from her: Are you in? Your car is outside and I knocked but you must be out with .. I didn't even hear my phone ring. It's on my bedside table. I didn't hear her knocking at my front door either.
I make myself a really really strong black coffee and rush around (as best you can when you are lethargic) tidying up and getting tea on the go. My husband gets home at about 7.30pm. I've already had a glass of wine - hair of the dog and all that.
Bugger! I forgot ...did I get rid of the empty bottle is hidden behind the microwave?
A whole day wasted. That is what I had become towards the end of my drinking days. All consumed by booze.
Thinking of this, I still feel a sense of shame and disgust at myself.
If you are reading this, did you have days like this too?
In a weird kind of way I am glad that I hit my rock bottom. I know that I wouldn't have made the decision to quit otherwise. I dread to think what I would be like now!
Thursday, 4 January 2018
That's the party season done with!
I realised this morning that I haven't done a post for a few weeks. I'm not sure why, but I haven't really given my blog much thought and I have been pretty busy at home and at work.
I'm coming up to six months sober in a few days and I must say that I am extremely proud of myself! I'm not sure if I should be a little disappointed that there has been no recognition of this fact by Mr W or my girls. I feel silly writing that. I feel like I am being self obsessed: Me, me, me! I really should be grateful that the length of my sobriety hasn't been mentioned - surely it means that if they aren't thinking about it, then they feel that they can trust me, that the past is almost where it belongs ... in the past?
Although I was concerned with how I would feel and how I would manage the festive season, I really need not have worried. I managed two work Christmas parties. Mr W's work do was easy peasy because I didn't have to explain to anyone why I wasn't drinking alcohol.
My own work do was a little trickier, although I wasn't the only one on the soft drinks. We also definitely have a new Work Party Animal. Our office started at 10.00am (!!!) with sparkling something or other. My lord, the smell of it was pretty disgusting! A work colleague brought me a glass of it (cheap champagne I think). It sat on my desk and when someone else arrived I gave it to them. I did have to explain to a number of people why I was drinking tonic water - mostly I just said I had too much to do after the party (which is held during the day).
My boss did question me (whilst very drunk) about why I wasn't drinking. Was it a fad? Was it for good? When I confirmed that, yes it is for good, he said "But why? You liked your red wine!". "Yes" I said "And there was the problem - I liked it too much and so I gave it up". That shut him up and if he remembers the conversation (I doubt it), he hasn't made mention of it since.
I said no to a Christmas Eve party. It wasn't that I didn't want to have to explain. I just honestly could not be arsed to go.
Christmas day went without a hitch. Everything was so relaxed - dinner was ready when it was ready. It was a nice change to be sober rather than half-cut.
I said no to a New Years Eve party. Instead me and Mr W went out for a late night drive to a place where we knew there'd be fireworks. We didn't get home till 2 am! The girls (who were out doing there own thing) jokingly said they were disgusted with their parents and it was way past our bedtime.
Again New Years Day went without a hitch.
Overall, I'm pleased that this time of year is over and done with, but I'm also surprised at how little I thought about alcohol.
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