Reading Carr and Vale has me primed to get my grey matter working. They’ve given me a lot to go on. As normal life continues on—Corin busy at work, the boys just consistently busy and me keeping everything running as smoothly as possible—I practise my new thinking. I practise it in the shower in the morning, I practise it as I’m driving in the car, I practise it when I’m lumbering around in a gym class, and of course I practise it in my blog.
Mrs D Is Going Without (Day 84)
I know there will be times when I do have a sad pang about not drinking but I also know that those times will pass and the majority of my time will be spent feeling amazing without booze clouding the way.
I also know that everything is just as fun and great without alcohol. A cafe table beside the water with the sun shining, a platter of nibbles and a shiny drink and laughter is just as fun if the drink is a lime and soda.
A great party is a great party because it’s a great party, not because I’m getting hammered. A boring party will always be a boring party no matter how much I drink.
A celebratory toast is loving and cheerful because that’s what a celebratory toast with other humans is. It is not given its currency because it involves then sipping a drink that (for me) triggers a switch in your brain that turns you into a loser lush.
Stress isn’t going to go away with 6 glasses of wine, it’s just going to hide behind the door until you’ve sobered up then jump out at ya—‘Still here! Now deal with me with that hangover and the guilts.’ Same goes for Sadness, Anger, Hurt and Grief.
In fact in my house those emotions had a secret room behind the door and they used to have a private party in there while they waited for me to sober up. They’d plot their next move: ‘Let’s get her at 3 a.m. when she gets up to go to the loo and keep her up for the rest of the night, yeah!’
They live with me constantly now, those emotions, no hiding and plotting, and I’m getting used to having them around. It’s okay, you know. It’s okay.
The more I write posts on my blog, the more I become aware that putting my thoughts into words is how I work things out. Talking aloud, writing, using language, is a vital part of my process. The added bonus (now that people are reading my blog) is that in writing to myself I appear to also be helping others. This is another completely unexpected development surrounding my blog.
Comment from ‘Anonymous’
Great post! You are absolutely right. I am going to print this one. I am going to keep reading it until I don’t have to anymore.
Great blog. Keep writing.
Comment from ‘Anonymous’
I totally agree with the comment above . . . great post!!! I LOVE your way with words . . . I’m keeping this one . . . Loser Lush!!!! OMG, you are the best!!! Thank you again for this blog!!!
Okay, it does still feel a little weird that I am getting thanks for blogging from random people through the internet. I initiated the blog to help myself. But the thanks I’m getting for sharing stuff I’m going through is super-cool. It makes me feel really good and, as I’ve said before, I’ll take all the good feelings I can get right now. This is a huge turnaround in my thinking that I am attempting here. I have spent twenty-plus years believing alcohol to be the source of all fun. Parties were for getting rip-snorted, I thought. Weddings were for cutting loose, I thought. Friday nights were for drinking more than usual, I thought. And of course 5 o’clock was wine o’clock, I thought.
Mrs D Is Going Without (Day 86)
A large part of my identity for twenty-odd years has been ‘fun, naughty Mrs D’, that fun, naughty, chatty, up-for-it party girl. I don’t want to see her go! But now I’m sober. So how do I keep bringing her to the party? I haven’t worked that out yet. Because if fun, naughty Mrs D is all about the booze then she’s gone forever. But if I can be that way sober then great. Thing is, I don’t know if I can. It’s different being out if you’re not boozing. Cos . . . well . . . you’re not boozing. I had fun at my 40th but I felt sober. Very, very sober. A sober life is . . . very, very sober. So it will be a different life and maybe I’ll carve out a new self-image, or adapt the old one. It’s early days, I can’t tell how that’s going to go.
I do hope I like the new sober me as she emerges. Because if I don’t, I might be tempted to go back to the boozy me I know so well.
Comment from ‘Tina Mary’
Most sober people I know have found a new person inside—infinitely superior to the drunken persona.
It takes time, but believe me, that person is inside you, and what an adventure to find her!
Comment from ‘Nate’
Don’t be scared of being sober you.
It might be that your beautiful personality is finally getting some sunshine and it is ‘peeking out from behind the barricades’ of your old drinking self.
You will soon be a funny, entertaining bastard again once you grow back into yourself, without the false rollercoaster of alcohol.
Keep going, there is no destination, just the rolling hills of the journey . . .
See how the recovery lingo is tripping off everyone’s keyboard in the online blogging world? I still can’t believe how little I knew about what I was getting into when I decided to take the booze away. This path that I am on is totally unexpected and fascinating. I’m on a journey, baby! And it is a journey, a journey of discovery. All of the clichés are true.
I have to be honest: despite my discomfort with the moods and the low phases and the awkward feeling I’ve sometimes had when socialising, overall I’m really enjoying this process. It might be partly due to the fun I’m having with my blog and the lovely, warm online community I’m now a part of, but I also think that it’s just so goddamn interesting learning about all this stuff. I’m endlessly fascinated. I’m discovering a whole new area of interest that I’ve previously been completely closed off to. I’m gobsmacked at the millions of people who are wrestling with and writing about all this recovery stuff. I’ve thrown myself into this arena and I’m really digging it.
One of the many things I’ve learned through all of my reading and research is that reaching 90 days sober is a big deal. And yay for me, I’m almost there. It seems to be used as a bit of a ‘celebration point’ in many fellowships and organisations, the thought being that if you’ve made it to 90 days without drinking (or using drugs) you’ve got a good strong foothold in sobriety.
A good strong foothold in sobriety—I like this. I like this a lot. I’m clinging to this, actually. As I draw closer to this magical mystical number of days without wine, I’m getting quite excited. Ninety days feels like a big important sign that I can actually do this. I’m feeling quietly jazzed and proud of myself.
I want to do something to mark the occasion but am in a bit of a tizz about what that should be. I know from reading other sober blogs that if I was going to meetings I’d be getting a special chip and a big round of applause to mark the occasion. Other ex-boozers understand what a big deal 90 days is. Unfortunately the people I have around me don’t. I’m sure my family and friends would rally around if I made a song and dance; they’d probably even gather in our living room and give me a big round of applause if I asked nicely, but that’s not going to happen. I’ll have to organise myself a little private party instead.
Mrs D Is Going Without (Day 89)
I’ve been getting excited about tomorrow and feel like I should do something special like make a big pavlova! And cover it with whipped cream and fresh berries and a broken-up Flake bar. Lots of lovely crumbs of chocolate. That would be a statement.
But personally, inside me, I have to say that the journey to this point has been intense and revealing. And now that I’m here I feel a certain level of calm about living a life without alcohol.
Having said that, I did have a pang or two yesterday, accompanied by a small stomach turn (nerves?) and a kind of incredulous voice inside saying, ‘Really? Never again? Really?’ I think it’s still going to be hard, and at times I’ll be sad that I can’t be a casual drinker.
But I can’t, so there, move on Mrs D.
The pangs are still coming at me. A sad little thought here or a nervy feeling in my tummy there. I feel them, and they hurt, they really do, an actual physical pain sometimes. Just a total fucking bummer of a painful thought that I can’t ever drink again. I try really hard to push these painful thoughts aside as quickly as I can. I refuse to let a little pang turn into a big wall of words trying to convince me to drink. I feel the pain but I keep reminding myself that I just can’t drink alcohol ever again. I make myself think back to the horrible boozy person I was; the embarrassing sloppy behaviour, the miserable 3 a.m. guilt. And I desperately cling to a mental image of the person I want to be—sober and together and calm and wise and groomed and leggy and . . . okay, enough, I doubt I’m ever going to be uber-groomed and no amount of thinking is going to make my legs longer! I’ll just work on picturing myself as the nice sober person I want to be.
Comment from ‘Sober With Faith’
In NA the 90 day chip is red, and for a good reason. It’s a chip of warning. It’s at this time that we start to feel good about ourselves, physically have detoxed, and mentally feel more acutely alive. It’s a time when some of us think maybe a drink is not so bad. Keep up the good work. You sound like you are doing really well.
Once again my online community is filling in the gaps for me; lovely comments offering support and wisdom trickle in after I write each post. I so appreciate all of it and soak it all up. I’m often reminded by people—like Sober With Faith—not to get complacent. The message I keep hearing is, don’t assume you’re ‘fixed’, never assume you can start drinking again and will be able to moderate next time. I won’t be able to. Once a boozer always a boozer. This is good to hear right now, given I am feeling self-satisfied and proud of my 90 days. (Note to self: Don’t Get Complacent.) Now, celebration time!!!!!
Mrs D Is Going Without (Day 90)
90 Days Hurray!
90 Days Hurray!
Hi Ho the Dairy-O, 90 Days Hurray!
What a lovely 90th day of sobriety I had. What a contrast the day was compared with my last binge which also fell on a Monday.
Yesterday I went to the gym, went and bought Mr D and I a new bed! (this wasn’t on a whim, our old one is one I bought before I even met him), made some fresh ginger beer (thanks Jamie Oliver), ginger crunch and a pavlova while the Little Guy was napping, had a lovely family dinner then pottered round cleaning up the house while Mr D took our two eldest to their Scouts meeting. Bathed the Little Guy then made train tracks with him. We all gorged on pavlova when the others got home, then put the kids to bed, lay on the sofa watching TV and . . . filed my nails!!! Yes, ladies and gentlemen . . . some personal grooming!!!
Actually some weird changes are occurring in my newfound sober life. I file my nails more often. I’m thinking I might start *shock horror* flossing my teeth every night. I have plucked my eyebrows more often (I once did this pissed on the sofa in the half-dark and the result was disastrous). The first thing I now put in my tummy every morning is a cup of green tea. What am I, some sort of crazy hippy?! I used to start every day with a huge mug of milky instant coffee but now it’s green tea and it really makes me feel much cleaner and lighter.
Cleaner and lighter. That would sum up my feeling in general at this point of 90 days. Cleaner and lighter with no guilt or hangovers, clean teeth, neat nails and semi-shaped eyebrows. But not resting on my laurels. Someone told me yesterday that the 90-day chip is red to warn against being complacent. That was great to hear. I’m considering myself warned. So am going to keep up my inner work and continue to work on training my brain to accept a life with no alcohol added.