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