More than 3 weeks, closing in on 4, and at that happy point where without counting I can't tell you exactly how many days it is. I've not really had any serious cravings or second thoughts, until last night; I had a really stressful day at work (things are not going entirely brilliantly financially) and wanted to just fall face down into a bucket of gin when I got home. But I'm pleased to say I gave myself a pep talk - the Gin Goblin might help me to escape from my worries for an evening but it would also stop me from taking action to actually change the situation. So I stayed sober and worked through the evening instead, which was clearly more productive.
I'm feeling quite sorry for myself at the moment. I fell over on Friday (yeah, sober, what are the odds?) and hurt myself quite badly although nothing broken. Lost the weekend to mild concussion and I still ache all over which is stopping me from sleeping too well. Right now I'm working, but in my pyjamas, and vaguely contemplating how nice it would be to go back to bed. I think tonight I'm gone at 8pm with a good book - just need to keep going until then. Moan moan moan.
I'm not especially noting any huge benefits of sobriety this time around - but perhaps that's because I've been too focused on my recent one woman pity party. I'm getting things done, I guess, but I'm still waking up headachey and fuzzy. Who knew - you can get the effects of alcohol without actually spending money on it!
The next big test for me will be Friday - a night alone in a hotel in a strange city. I'm taking my camera and hoping to get some good architectural shots, and I'll be checking out the local sushi bars. Then I'll get some sleep like the sensible thing I am!
Showing posts with label thoughts. Show all posts
Showing posts with label thoughts. Show all posts
Tuesday, 28 February 2017
Monday, 6 February 2017
Miss me?
Okay, okay, I'm back. It's Day 3. And this time I mean it. I'm done. I spent Thursday and Friday night absolutely hammering it, barely felt drunk, barely felt hungover. What a waste of money and effort, and all just to feel shitty about how much I'm drinking again.
The friend I mentioned, who I inspired with my 6 months sober stint, just made it to his 1 year Soberversary (well done, R!). So I really don't have any excuses any more.
I'd forgotten how crap Day 3 is. I'm tired, my head is thumping, and I would bite your hand off for a glass of wine right about now. Or half a pint of Baileys. Either would be fine. But I'm hanging out on r/stopdrinking which is good for a bit of anon support and gnashing of teeth, and feeling pretty confident. I keep just saying to myself, "I don't drink". Eventually, I'll say it out loud to someone, and believe it.
I know I can do it. I know I can. I've done it before. This time, I also know I have to KEEP doing it. There are no half measures (hahahaha) for me. That last symbolic sip of neat gin from the bottle on Saturday morning, and the goodbye I said as I poured the rest down the sink - that was it. This love affair is OVER and my broken heart will mend.
If any of you are still out there and reading, I hope you're doing well! I'll try to check in on all the blogs I was following over the next few days too.
And if you're reading this and patting yourself on the back for staying sober for a month / 6 months / a year and figuring you can handle a drink now? It's your decision - but be careful. Sure, I've had a year of drinking but I can't say I have anything to show for it except a bigger waistline and less money. My life hasn't been terribly enhanced by it. Make your decision carefully.
Onwards!
The friend I mentioned, who I inspired with my 6 months sober stint, just made it to his 1 year Soberversary (well done, R!). So I really don't have any excuses any more.
I'd forgotten how crap Day 3 is. I'm tired, my head is thumping, and I would bite your hand off for a glass of wine right about now. Or half a pint of Baileys. Either would be fine. But I'm hanging out on r/stopdrinking which is good for a bit of anon support and gnashing of teeth, and feeling pretty confident. I keep just saying to myself, "I don't drink". Eventually, I'll say it out loud to someone, and believe it.
I know I can do it. I know I can. I've done it before. This time, I also know I have to KEEP doing it. There are no half measures (hahahaha) for me. That last symbolic sip of neat gin from the bottle on Saturday morning, and the goodbye I said as I poured the rest down the sink - that was it. This love affair is OVER and my broken heart will mend.
If any of you are still out there and reading, I hope you're doing well! I'll try to check in on all the blogs I was following over the next few days too.
And if you're reading this and patting yourself on the back for staying sober for a month / 6 months / a year and figuring you can handle a drink now? It's your decision - but be careful. Sure, I've had a year of drinking but I can't say I have anything to show for it except a bigger waistline and less money. My life hasn't been terribly enhanced by it. Make your decision carefully.
Onwards!
Sunday, 23 August 2015
Still standing
Life is slowly returning to normal - thanks to those of you who commented on my last post. School begins again in a week, Hubs and myself are both back to work tomorrow, routine is beginning to kick in. The Small One is still suffering but it seems that the root of the problem is anxiety, which she was masking with anger and violence; we all feel much better now that nobody is screaming, and I'm not being beaten up!
Many sessions with the psych to follow, I suppose, but we are feeling our way through and managing to parent in shifts during the tougher times, and seem to have achieved a level of 'normal' which is bearable if not quite as easy as it once was.
I'm trying not to link SmallPerson's issues with any of my own, but it's hard not to. I drank when I was pregnant - very little, especially compared to my excesses in times both before and after my pregnancy, but probably a couple of times a week (only ever one drink at a time). At the time and long after I figured what the heck, she's fine, but when something like this happens it's very easy to blame yourself - especially when you'll never know the answer. Hell, does MY anxiety and borderline ASD stem from my own mother's drinking during her pregnancy? Again she wasn't a hellraiser, she wanted the best for me. Who knows if it has any effect?
Or perhaps I'm just beating myself up a little (a lot), because suddenly my perfect family isn't quite so damn perfect any more and I don't know what went wrong with it. Perhaps we were never all that perfect but I was so focused on ME being the one with the problems that I didn't notice it creeping up on her.
I am a bit low at the moment. My plans for a grand summer by the seaside totally failed, all the great things we were going to do, the fun we'd have. Here we are at the end of it, tired and stressed and with no good memories, nothing much achieved. A summer to forget, to be washed away by what has felt like near constant rain.
I should feel as though through all of it, the fact I've managed to remain sober is some sort of shining beacon. If I can stay sober through this shit, I've got it sorted. But somehow I even feel grouchy and depressed about that, what's the big deal, other people do it without expecting a fanfare after all.
Oh, some other stuff did happen. I got that tattoo - which really didn't hurt all that much, and which I really like, even if nobody else around me seems to. I've also joined a photography club and a couple of times now walked into a room full of strangers and come out feeling like I made friends. That's quite a big deal for me - plus it turns out I occasionally take a decent photo.
But for now I have to go. SmallPerson had a book on the stairs, I moved it, and a freak out is in progress. Yay.
Many sessions with the psych to follow, I suppose, but we are feeling our way through and managing to parent in shifts during the tougher times, and seem to have achieved a level of 'normal' which is bearable if not quite as easy as it once was.
I'm trying not to link SmallPerson's issues with any of my own, but it's hard not to. I drank when I was pregnant - very little, especially compared to my excesses in times both before and after my pregnancy, but probably a couple of times a week (only ever one drink at a time). At the time and long after I figured what the heck, she's fine, but when something like this happens it's very easy to blame yourself - especially when you'll never know the answer. Hell, does MY anxiety and borderline ASD stem from my own mother's drinking during her pregnancy? Again she wasn't a hellraiser, she wanted the best for me. Who knows if it has any effect?
Or perhaps I'm just beating myself up a little (a lot), because suddenly my perfect family isn't quite so damn perfect any more and I don't know what went wrong with it. Perhaps we were never all that perfect but I was so focused on ME being the one with the problems that I didn't notice it creeping up on her.
I am a bit low at the moment. My plans for a grand summer by the seaside totally failed, all the great things we were going to do, the fun we'd have. Here we are at the end of it, tired and stressed and with no good memories, nothing much achieved. A summer to forget, to be washed away by what has felt like near constant rain.
I should feel as though through all of it, the fact I've managed to remain sober is some sort of shining beacon. If I can stay sober through this shit, I've got it sorted. But somehow I even feel grouchy and depressed about that, what's the big deal, other people do it without expecting a fanfare after all.
Oh, some other stuff did happen. I got that tattoo - which really didn't hurt all that much, and which I really like, even if nobody else around me seems to. I've also joined a photography club and a couple of times now walked into a room full of strangers and come out feeling like I made friends. That's quite a big deal for me - plus it turns out I occasionally take a decent photo.
But for now I have to go. SmallPerson had a book on the stairs, I moved it, and a freak out is in progress. Yay.
Tuesday, 28 July 2015
Day 50 - Pads, PAWS and Claws.
If I'm counting properly, I think that this is Day 50. I'm quite surprised, and also very proud of myself. I didn't think I would make it this far. A huge THANK YOU to all my blog-friends who have been there to help me through and encourage me!
I sound like someone giving an Oscars speech, like the prize has been won. It's interesting to me that there is no 'end' to this movie - or is there? Is there a celebration to be had at the end of every single day that I remain sober?
I'm feeling absolutely lousy at the moment - almost like I have a hangover which seems remarkably unfair considering. My back aches, my mind is fuzzy, my stomach is hollow and queasy, my mind is fuzzy. I just want to crawl back into bed. Not sure if this is PAWS or 'The Wall' (or are they the same thing?). It does become easy at this point to blame anything that goes wrong with the body or mind on sobriety, I suppose because there's comfort in thinking you know what is going on.
I know the correct answer to this is to be kind to myself - and I really am trying - but it's just so busy at the moment I can't slack off for a few days yet. I'm probably taking Friday off for a day out, and I'm definitely sleeping all day on Saturday, but I have to keep going until then.
We were out in London on Saturday night, and getting a cab back to the station after the theatre (which I can afford, now I'm not drinking!) was interesting - so many people late at night, stood on the street drinking. So many of them who probably felt rough as a badger's arse on Sunday morning. I looked at them and wondered where the pleasure was in what they were doing, tried to remember, and I honestly couldn't.
The flip side of that observation, though, was that when we went for a meal in Carluccios, a place I always associate with a large glass of white wine, I felt almost hypnotised by the glasses on the table until they were removed after we didn't order anything to go in them. Was that because of the habit of drinking wine in that place? Am I just a snobby alcoholic who considers herself too good to stand around on the street drinking from a plastic pint pot?
In the old days, I'd have had a glass of wine or two on the train, another with the meal, maybe two, two more at the theatre, and something when we got back to the B&B. Because it was spread out over 12 hours, I would consider that it wasn't that much. Interesting how none of those are just one drink.....!
My hands no longer shake.
I'm still great at procrastinating though. Back to work!!
I sound like someone giving an Oscars speech, like the prize has been won. It's interesting to me that there is no 'end' to this movie - or is there? Is there a celebration to be had at the end of every single day that I remain sober?
I'm feeling absolutely lousy at the moment - almost like I have a hangover which seems remarkably unfair considering. My back aches, my mind is fuzzy, my stomach is hollow and queasy, my mind is fuzzy. I just want to crawl back into bed. Not sure if this is PAWS or 'The Wall' (or are they the same thing?). It does become easy at this point to blame anything that goes wrong with the body or mind on sobriety, I suppose because there's comfort in thinking you know what is going on.
I know the correct answer to this is to be kind to myself - and I really am trying - but it's just so busy at the moment I can't slack off for a few days yet. I'm probably taking Friday off for a day out, and I'm definitely sleeping all day on Saturday, but I have to keep going until then.
We were out in London on Saturday night, and getting a cab back to the station after the theatre (which I can afford, now I'm not drinking!) was interesting - so many people late at night, stood on the street drinking. So many of them who probably felt rough as a badger's arse on Sunday morning. I looked at them and wondered where the pleasure was in what they were doing, tried to remember, and I honestly couldn't.
The flip side of that observation, though, was that when we went for a meal in Carluccios, a place I always associate with a large glass of white wine, I felt almost hypnotised by the glasses on the table until they were removed after we didn't order anything to go in them. Was that because of the habit of drinking wine in that place? Am I just a snobby alcoholic who considers herself too good to stand around on the street drinking from a plastic pint pot?
In the old days, I'd have had a glass of wine or two on the train, another with the meal, maybe two, two more at the theatre, and something when we got back to the B&B. Because it was spread out over 12 hours, I would consider that it wasn't that much. Interesting how none of those are just one drink.....!
My hands no longer shake.
I'm still great at procrastinating though. Back to work!!
Tuesday, 21 July 2015
Scaling The Wall
It's been 6 weeks today since I made the decision to give up drinking. So small in the grand scheme of things but also so monumental.
I'm in danger of getting complacent. The buzz of sobriety has worn off, I'm stressed with juggling work and school holidays, trying to be a good businesswoman and a good mum, and of course not getting either of them quite right. It's a high risk time....and then I read in Sober Mummy's blog that the relapse 'wall' is typically between Day 46 and Day 120 and I am staring right at it.
That's 74 days of danger, if you want to believe what I'm assuming isn't a precise and scientifically proven time period ;) 74 days of danger, compared to 42 days of relative ease so far. That's a hellish long time to be facing.
I have a sort of emergency plan in place, but I'm away from home for the whole of August so access to meetings etc won't be happening. All I really have is you lot, and a couple of people I can text, and willpower. I'm scared, and I feel threatened by this notional bad patch.
Maybe it won't be that bad - maybe it's because I've been up since 5am and am absolutely knackered that I'm being so negative.
On my way home I plan to buy as much AF beer as I can carry! :)
I'm in danger of getting complacent. The buzz of sobriety has worn off, I'm stressed with juggling work and school holidays, trying to be a good businesswoman and a good mum, and of course not getting either of them quite right. It's a high risk time....and then I read in Sober Mummy's blog that the relapse 'wall' is typically between Day 46 and Day 120 and I am staring right at it.
That's 74 days of danger, if you want to believe what I'm assuming isn't a precise and scientifically proven time period ;) 74 days of danger, compared to 42 days of relative ease so far. That's a hellish long time to be facing.
I have a sort of emergency plan in place, but I'm away from home for the whole of August so access to meetings etc won't be happening. All I really have is you lot, and a couple of people I can text, and willpower. I'm scared, and I feel threatened by this notional bad patch.
Maybe it won't be that bad - maybe it's because I've been up since 5am and am absolutely knackered that I'm being so negative.
On my way home I plan to buy as much AF beer as I can carry! :)
Thursday, 16 July 2015
The Bitch is Back
One thing about being sober is that I can no longer blame the less wonderful aspects of my personality on my drinking.
I'd like to think I'm a nice person - I'm kind, I try to think of others, I lack a lot of social skills but I try to treat others as I would like to be treated. Despite this I do sometimes lack patience.
There have been a couple of times this week where I've just lost my temper with people - I've been polite and not raised my email (or TYPED IN CAPITALS) but I've had to be a little...well, firm I suppose is the word.
Actually you know what? Reflecting on it, I'm quite happy that by the time I got firm, I'd played nice and been helpful quite enough - but what annoyed me was when people continued to fail to do their job (or expected me to do it for them!). Interestingly, I don't feel too bad about it, I don't think I've been rude or unreasonable. So perhaps this is a good thing - old me would have been chewing on it and feeling bad.
I suppose I also take it sometimes without it upsetting me - I can be a bit clueless and the people who work with me occasionally sit me down and tell me what they need from me. Perhaps they are quietly gnashing their teeth as they smile nicely and talk to me in short sentences!
I'm also dealing with some drama - not mine, but a friend who is a total drama queen. They have had a big row with their partner but this means it's OVER FOREVER WAAAAAAH rather than just that the other party is too pissed off to reply to their texts right now. I'm trying so hard to be nice, and supportive, but I am also trying to say to them - relax, apologise, and wait. Just wait.
Maybe I'd be different if it was my own drama, but waiting to see what the Universe does about it seems to be about the only course of action available sometimes.
I'm off to London tonight to see this which I am really looking forward to. I'm told the cocktails are amazing. I hope they have something interesting but AF for me!
I'd like to think I'm a nice person - I'm kind, I try to think of others, I lack a lot of social skills but I try to treat others as I would like to be treated. Despite this I do sometimes lack patience.
There have been a couple of times this week where I've just lost my temper with people - I've been polite and not raised my email (or TYPED IN CAPITALS) but I've had to be a little...well, firm I suppose is the word.
Actually you know what? Reflecting on it, I'm quite happy that by the time I got firm, I'd played nice and been helpful quite enough - but what annoyed me was when people continued to fail to do their job (or expected me to do it for them!). Interestingly, I don't feel too bad about it, I don't think I've been rude or unreasonable. So perhaps this is a good thing - old me would have been chewing on it and feeling bad.
I suppose I also take it sometimes without it upsetting me - I can be a bit clueless and the people who work with me occasionally sit me down and tell me what they need from me. Perhaps they are quietly gnashing their teeth as they smile nicely and talk to me in short sentences!
I'm also dealing with some drama - not mine, but a friend who is a total drama queen. They have had a big row with their partner but this means it's OVER FOREVER WAAAAAAH rather than just that the other party is too pissed off to reply to their texts right now. I'm trying so hard to be nice, and supportive, but I am also trying to say to them - relax, apologise, and wait. Just wait.
Maybe I'd be different if it was my own drama, but waiting to see what the Universe does about it seems to be about the only course of action available sometimes.
I'm off to London tonight to see this which I am really looking forward to. I'm told the cocktails are amazing. I hope they have something interesting but AF for me!
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