Today I am going to tell you about my old story and then provide you with a draft for my new one.
I have been a little damaged as a human being. Nothing major.. no lawsuits pending, (well none that would stick).. but a bit broken nonetheless. As a result of this, I have self medicated most of my life and this has mainly been in the form of booze. With a dry January under my belt, I have felt the benefits of a (slowly) diminishing waist line and I have almost become an athlete of olympic standards.
There is the propensity to resort to my behaviour of 2017; evenings on the sofa supported with a good ol’ glass of vin de rouge whilst I guffaw at the absurdity of Ian Beale and squeal with delight when Phil Mitchell punches someone on Eastenders and says something ridiculous like “you don’t mess with the Mitchells”. Or I just scream at the tele to “oh just PISS OFF” because the story line has really become so bad that I can no longer justify to Mr P why I actually still watch this shit. Red wine was my go-to as I got ready for a rare night out.. as we had a roast on a Sunday, as I read one of the kids a story (that may or may not have been a little slurred on delivery). I fantasised about sitting in front of our roaring fire with a glass of red in hand and I will admit to trying to muffle the sound of the wine pouring in, as I topped up my glass at the same time as being on the phone to my mum. She thinks I
drink drank too much.
The amounts of times I would proudly declare to my friends and family that I hadn’t drunk for ‘at least two days this week!’ are unmeasurable and I have lost count of the amount of times I have alluded to the fact that I know I drink too much. Or that I have bored friends and family with the plans to cut down drinking. We all knew I had a problem but because I was so open about it, I felt like I had almost vindicated myself. And because I don’t crave booze in the morning or get the shakes when I have a few days off, I was content to justify that I wasn’t an actual alcoholic.. I just needed to reign it in a bit. But it’s a funny thing, quitting booze. It’s practically frowned upon. Now if I said I was going to stop smoking, everyone would have slapped me on the back and told me that it was about time. Not so with alcohol. Our society, so ensconced in the voluptuous arms of the delicious nectar which warms, enlivens and caresses our bodies and minds, doesn’t appear to relish the idea of someone cutting it out. It appears to almost instil a sense of fear.
So last night, I did an experiment. I didn’t actually particularly want to drink but I was curious as to how it would make me feel. So, I had two small glasses of red wine whilst I had a marvellous back massage from the EO and then read my book. First of all I noticed the smell and taste. It was very similar to the alcohol free (AF) wine from Rawsons Retreat, Tesco. Like with the AF wine, I didn’t seem to relish the wine and there was still no buzz. I finished my glass and fell into a deep sleep, waking at 3am and noting the slight dehydration. At 6.30am I felt the tightened skull as it threatened a headache and I felt a little depleted. A little bit robbed. I slightly wished I could unread all the books on alcohol and how utterly shit it is. How it really does play havoc with your neural plasticity, how it really does fuck up your REM sleep and leaves you feeling low as your brain battles to correct the stimulation the alcohol causes as it hits your brain, leaving you anxious and low in the morning. As I argued with my MO at his billionth tantrum this week, I cried.
However, mid journey to uni, I realised I didn’t have to continue on this same path. I could reinvent my story. I don’t have to replay the same guilt ridden arguments between Shit Me and Good Me, I can go back to being alcohol free. And I might even enjoy drinking occasionally and IF I drink, it will be because it is what I want to do. The moment I feel guilt, I stop. The moment I start berating myself, I stop. And if I can’t drink without doing that? Then I don’t drink anymore.
I have had a month of feeling bloody marvellous (albeit fucking bored in the evenings…. yeah that’s still a work in progress) and so here’s my draft… it’s quite simple.. in fact it’s practically a one-liner..
My New Story
From now on, what I do will be without guilt.
If I am sober, I will not feel guilty to those who would prefer I drank and if I drink, I will not feel guilty to my Self who would prefer me to be sober.
In other words.. I am now gonna shut the fuck up about my non-alcohol/little-bit-of-alcohol/oh-hell-I-am dying from alcohol levels of consumption!!