I have 5 hours left of my 30's. I am about to move into the second half of my life. That's how it feels to me anyway. So, a stock take...
I have arrived at 40 with;
A wonderful husband
Three awesome sons
A mortgage
A cat
A people mover with remote control doors
Life insurance
Health insurance
No stretch marks but...
A wobbly tummy and ...
A few grey hairs
Good teeth
A strong body
A healthy heart
Lots of lovely friends
A warm loving family
A successful career (to fall back on when I require)
A fascinating research topic for my MA
A moderate interest in politics
A growing interest in cooking
A huge interest in pop culture
and
A drinking problem
Love, Mrs D xxx
Wednesday, October 12, 2011
Tuesday, October 11, 2011
Another technique.....
I realise I'm using this visualising technique quite a bit trying to retrain my brain to see life without alcohol. When I'm staring down a looming event I'm doing what I spoke about in the last post (although it has to be said I haven't had to experience even one of those scenarios yet). I'm trying to be cool about it by thinking of myself as that sparkling sober version of myself.
And I'm kind of doing the same when staring down a looming Tuesday evening. A random week night at home feeding the family, tidying up, dealing with small boys, getting the house to bed. Normally I'd accompany that with at least a bottle of wine rapidly poured down my throat. But no longer. That's hard. I used to love the wine. 'SHOW ME THE WINE!' My inner voice would yell.
So now, as four o'clock rolls round and the hand ticks by to 5pm when on the dot I'd start drinking, I try to work my brain to see through the evening and out the other side.
Does that make sense? I make myself imagine climbing into bed at the end of the night. Or waking up in the morning. I try and look through the fog of 5 to 8.30-9pmish which would usually be spent drinking and imagine the climbing into bed bit. Sober. I visualise myself cleaning my teeth and getting snugly in my bed. I'm looking through the evening and willing the time ahead to where the drink would be finished with anyway.
This helps me. But it still takes quite a bit of work. I am kind of obsessed. I look forward to it becoming easy.
Love, Mrs D xxx
And I'm kind of doing the same when staring down a looming Tuesday evening. A random week night at home feeding the family, tidying up, dealing with small boys, getting the house to bed. Normally I'd accompany that with at least a bottle of wine rapidly poured down my throat. But no longer. That's hard. I used to love the wine. 'SHOW ME THE WINE!' My inner voice would yell.
So now, as four o'clock rolls round and the hand ticks by to 5pm when on the dot I'd start drinking, I try to work my brain to see through the evening and out the other side.
Does that make sense? I make myself imagine climbing into bed at the end of the night. Or waking up in the morning. I try and look through the fog of 5 to 8.30-9pmish which would usually be spent drinking and imagine the climbing into bed bit. Sober. I visualise myself cleaning my teeth and getting snugly in my bed. I'm looking through the evening and willing the time ahead to where the drink would be finished with anyway.
This helps me. But it still takes quite a bit of work. I am kind of obsessed. I look forward to it becoming easy.
Love, Mrs D xxx
Sunday, October 9, 2011
Casually sober...
Ok so now I'm thinking of some more of these casual statements that I'll trot out at social occasions in the years to come. This is a technique! (I made it up). Visualising myself sober. Projecting forth into the future a vision of a smart, cool and together Mrs D. Not the sloppy, lush-like ageing party girl that I had become.
So here goes.
At a wedding: "Oh no, just a juice for me thanks. Why? Oh I just don't bother with the booze any more, it was running away with me (tosses hair), but I'm no less fun am I (laughs gaily and spends the rest of the night cutting it up stylishly on the dance floor before driving all the drunk people home).
At a work function: "This? (points to glass) Oh it's just tonic water, I'm not bothering with the hard stuff any more. Trust me, I'm way better without it (proceeds to spend the night talking wittily and intelligently with management, taking care of the new girl who overdoes it on chardonnay. Drives home and reads two chapters of great novel before sleeping soundly all night).
On a group holiday: "No really, I am just having a red bull. It's ok, really. No it's not that hard (lies), I just don't want the alcohol in my life any more. No I'm not judging any of you guys, honestly, you just go for it (retreats to bedroom to re-read letter written to self on first day of sobriety to remember, remember, remember why this must be done).
In these fantasies the casual tone is accompanied by a casual thought process. I long for the day that it doesn't take such mental rigour to stay off the grog. Yesterday I spent the entire afternoon thinking about alcohol. All afternoon! Bugger that. I hope that as the weeks go by I will just be sober, without any thought. Coz right now that sure ain't the case.
Love, Mrs D xxx
So here goes.
At a wedding: "Oh no, just a juice for me thanks. Why? Oh I just don't bother with the booze any more, it was running away with me (tosses hair), but I'm no less fun am I (laughs gaily and spends the rest of the night cutting it up stylishly on the dance floor before driving all the drunk people home).
At a work function: "This? (points to glass) Oh it's just tonic water, I'm not bothering with the hard stuff any more. Trust me, I'm way better without it (proceeds to spend the night talking wittily and intelligently with management, taking care of the new girl who overdoes it on chardonnay. Drives home and reads two chapters of great novel before sleeping soundly all night).
On a group holiday: "No really, I am just having a red bull. It's ok, really. No it's not that hard (lies), I just don't want the alcohol in my life any more. No I'm not judging any of you guys, honestly, you just go for it (retreats to bedroom to re-read letter written to self on first day of sobriety to remember, remember, remember why this must be done).
In these fantasies the casual tone is accompanied by a casual thought process. I long for the day that it doesn't take such mental rigour to stay off the grog. Yesterday I spent the entire afternoon thinking about alcohol. All afternoon! Bugger that. I hope that as the weeks go by I will just be sober, without any thought. Coz right now that sure ain't the case.
Love, Mrs D xxx
Saturday, October 8, 2011
To Her..
I have a follower! My first follower! Her name is Her and she is somewhere in America, trying trying trying to become sober. She is a mother, a wife, a daughter and a drinker. I have posted comments to Her blog, wishing Her all the best, willing Her to stay strong, willing Her to victory over this nasty sly addiction. I want that sly drinking fox out of her brain!
The Her my follower could be any one of thousands of fabulous women out there who are dysfunctional drinkers. Actually make that millions around the world. How crazy is it that this drug is so socially acceptable even though so many people struggle with it and it ruins their lives? I am determined to be one of those really cool, strong people who in years to come will say casually, "yeah I gave up alcohol a while ago, it just wasn't agreeing with me any more. I'm much happier without it in my life."
That will be me. That will be Her.
Love, Mrs D xxx
The Her my follower could be any one of thousands of fabulous women out there who are dysfunctional drinkers. Actually make that millions around the world. How crazy is it that this drug is so socially acceptable even though so many people struggle with it and it ruins their lives? I am determined to be one of those really cool, strong people who in years to come will say casually, "yeah I gave up alcohol a while ago, it just wasn't agreeing with me any more. I'm much happier without it in my life."
That will be me. That will be Her.
Love, Mrs D xxx
Friday, October 7, 2011
Flat and fat..
I feel flat (emotionally) and fat (physically) today. I'm not fat technically speaking by the way, but I am heavier than I should be and could definitely lose some weight.
I think obsessing about weight is boring, but how you feel about yourself mentally often manifests itself in how you feel about yourself physically doesn't it? If I'm feeling low I usually have an inner voice saying 'you're fat and ugly' but if I'm feeling great I think I look just fine!
It's the weekend and I did my usual Friday morning treaty shop. Fresh flowers, some nibbles for Friday evening (feta dip, pita bread and some pistachio nuts), plus a bottle of expensive red wine and some beer for Mr D.
Am I tempted to drink that? No I'm not. Not in the slightest. But I am feeling flat. And fat. So it must be having an impact somewhere.
On a brighter note, to remind myself how much better I feel not drinking I want to say how happy I am every night when I climb into bed sober. I love getting in to bed at night without being full of wine. I feel so happy at that point. It's even better than waking up without a hangover and the guilts.
So that's a bright note to end on.
Love, Mrs D xxx
I think obsessing about weight is boring, but how you feel about yourself mentally often manifests itself in how you feel about yourself physically doesn't it? If I'm feeling low I usually have an inner voice saying 'you're fat and ugly' but if I'm feeling great I think I look just fine!
It's the weekend and I did my usual Friday morning treaty shop. Fresh flowers, some nibbles for Friday evening (feta dip, pita bread and some pistachio nuts), plus a bottle of expensive red wine and some beer for Mr D.
Am I tempted to drink that? No I'm not. Not in the slightest. But I am feeling flat. And fat. So it must be having an impact somewhere.
On a brighter note, to remind myself how much better I feel not drinking I want to say how happy I am every night when I climb into bed sober. I love getting in to bed at night without being full of wine. I feel so happy at that point. It's even better than waking up without a hangover and the guilts.
So that's a bright note to end on.
Love, Mrs D xxx
Thursday, October 6, 2011
Scared...
I just feel so scared that this is all too easy. It's been approx 2 months now, I'm not really counting the days.
I had gone for a regular 'month off' in August - something I used to do to get my tolerance down and give my liver a break. Well this break only lasted 3 1/2 weeks and five days of heavy drinking followed so the whole 'get my tolerance down' thing didn't work and .. hence the final decision to quit. (If you want to read about my final binge I wrote it in my first blog post)..
So anyway .. since I've made that final brutal call I've felt really strong and clear headed and haven't had a single pull to drink.
Not a single pull to drink.
Now, don't you think that's weird? I mean I've been pouring red wine down my throat like it's going out of fashion for years. I've had an internal clock chiming a call to DRINK! at 5pm for ages. I've got a brain that has spent hours and hours and hours affected by alcohol. Drinking it, recovering from it, feeling guilty about it, obtaining it, looking forward to it, drinking it, and so on and so on.
So, why is my brain now just happily accepting my final decision to cut it out altogether? I'm fearful it's tricking me, lulling me into a false sense of security. I like to think I'm strong minded and clear headed and have never kidded myself about my dysfunctional unhealthy relationship with alcohol. But to have this decision to live sober be so easy .. well, I'm scared.
Must remember, must remember, must remember.
But I'm sure there will be tests to come and I'm scared it will be really hard to resist. Especially as I'm going it alone with only the support of my husband and family and blogs I've found online. Plus this blog that I write regularly. The words I put down here linger with me during the day, and I'm hoping upon hope they'll help me stick to my resolve.
Love, Mrs D xxx
I had gone for a regular 'month off' in August - something I used to do to get my tolerance down and give my liver a break. Well this break only lasted 3 1/2 weeks and five days of heavy drinking followed so the whole 'get my tolerance down' thing didn't work and .. hence the final decision to quit. (If you want to read about my final binge I wrote it in my first blog post)..
So anyway .. since I've made that final brutal call I've felt really strong and clear headed and haven't had a single pull to drink.
Not a single pull to drink.
Now, don't you think that's weird? I mean I've been pouring red wine down my throat like it's going out of fashion for years. I've had an internal clock chiming a call to DRINK! at 5pm for ages. I've got a brain that has spent hours and hours and hours affected by alcohol. Drinking it, recovering from it, feeling guilty about it, obtaining it, looking forward to it, drinking it, and so on and so on.
So, why is my brain now just happily accepting my final decision to cut it out altogether? I'm fearful it's tricking me, lulling me into a false sense of security. I like to think I'm strong minded and clear headed and have never kidded myself about my dysfunctional unhealthy relationship with alcohol. But to have this decision to live sober be so easy .. well, I'm scared.
Must remember, must remember, must remember.
But I'm sure there will be tests to come and I'm scared it will be really hard to resist. Especially as I'm going it alone with only the support of my husband and family and blogs I've found online. Plus this blog that I write regularly. The words I put down here linger with me during the day, and I'm hoping upon hope they'll help me stick to my resolve.
Love, Mrs D xxx
Wednesday, October 5, 2011
The country is awash..
If I had a drink for every time someone said to me how hard it would be to give up drinking in this country I'd be well on my way to getting legless.
It's true New Zealand is a booze culture, getting plastered is a national hobby.
Go to a 21st and everyone is getting hammered. The birthday girl or boy will be doing a yard glass and vomiting in the back garden. Everyone is laughing, parents are all packing it away too.
Go to a 30th, 40th, 50th or 60th and it's the same story. Everyone is having a great time drinking lots and lots of alcohol.
Go to a wedding at midnight and everyone is smashed and cutting up the dance floor or huddling around outside smoking and drinking.
Go to a wake and everyone is drinking heavily to drown their sorrows.
Go into any town centre on a Friday night and you'll see young and old wobbling down the streets full to the brim with alcohol. Our hospital A & Es have security guards posted outside to cope with all the drunk people after midnight on the weekends.
Heavy drinking is normal. And I worry especially about the women. There must be loads like me who harbour naughty dysfunctional drinking habits in their homes, now that they have had kids and have largely stepped out of the workforce. Are there?
Just today in the paper there's an article about a woman caught driving who was three times over the legal breath-alcohol limit. She had young children in the car. It's just the latest case in a spate of women from that area being caught drunk at the wheel.
What's the drinking culture like in other countries? I know France is held up as an example of a healthy drinking culture. Wine on the table at dinner even when you're young but over-drinking frowned upon.
Here in New Zealand drinking heavily and handling it is a badge of honour.
Love, Mrs D xxx
It's true New Zealand is a booze culture, getting plastered is a national hobby.
Go to a 21st and everyone is getting hammered. The birthday girl or boy will be doing a yard glass and vomiting in the back garden. Everyone is laughing, parents are all packing it away too.
Go to a 30th, 40th, 50th or 60th and it's the same story. Everyone is having a great time drinking lots and lots of alcohol.
Go to a wedding at midnight and everyone is smashed and cutting up the dance floor or huddling around outside smoking and drinking.
Go to a wake and everyone is drinking heavily to drown their sorrows.
Go into any town centre on a Friday night and you'll see young and old wobbling down the streets full to the brim with alcohol. Our hospital A & Es have security guards posted outside to cope with all the drunk people after midnight on the weekends.
Heavy drinking is normal. And I worry especially about the women. There must be loads like me who harbour naughty dysfunctional drinking habits in their homes, now that they have had kids and have largely stepped out of the workforce. Are there?
Just today in the paper there's an article about a woman caught driving who was three times over the legal breath-alcohol limit. She had young children in the car. It's just the latest case in a spate of women from that area being caught drunk at the wheel.
What's the drinking culture like in other countries? I know France is held up as an example of a healthy drinking culture. Wine on the table at dinner even when you're young but over-drinking frowned upon.
Here in New Zealand drinking heavily and handling it is a badge of honour.
Love, Mrs D xxx
Tuesday, October 4, 2011
Like an evil eagle...
.. the thought came swooping in with sharp talons at the ready. Imagine having a glass of red wine tonight. It's the first time since almost 2 months ago when I stopped drinking (I'm conveniently ignoring the 5 days of heavy drinking in the middle that sparked the final brutal decision to stop altogether forever.)
Altogether.
Forever.
Stop.
Altogether.
Forever.
Last night was the first time that I'd actually had that thought accompanied by a little 'pull' to drink. A familiar yearning. Oh I had to squash that down! And then since, some romantic thoughts of alcohol and a gut wrench that I'll never experience that again. Really, never again? It seems unreal in those moments.
I have to keep reminding myself what sloppy horrible hell the wine drinking had become for me and that the romantic ideal will never exist again.
This is going to be hard I can see that. I haven't really been challenged properly yet. And I've put myself completely on the line by telling family.
Please strength be with me always.
Love, Mrs D xxx
Altogether.
Forever.
Stop.
Altogether.
Forever.
Last night was the first time that I'd actually had that thought accompanied by a little 'pull' to drink. A familiar yearning. Oh I had to squash that down! And then since, some romantic thoughts of alcohol and a gut wrench that I'll never experience that again. Really, never again? It seems unreal in those moments.
I have to keep reminding myself what sloppy horrible hell the wine drinking had become for me and that the romantic ideal will never exist again.
This is going to be hard I can see that. I haven't really been challenged properly yet. And I've put myself completely on the line by telling family.
Please strength be with me always.
Love, Mrs D xxx
Sunday, October 2, 2011
A tricky night..
Was pretty bloody knackered yesterday after spending all of Friday night in A&E with the Little Guy who fell on the door frame and split his forehead open. It happened at 6pm and usually - pre major life change to give up wine drinking - I would have had at least half a bottle in me by that point. But the new sober Mrs D was clear headed enough to dial 111 and get an ambulance who took us in to hospital to get patched up.
Mr D was out and had arrived back just before the ambulance arrived so he stayed behind with the other two.
So last night - Saturday - Mr D was having a glass of wine (and bear in mind I was tired from a night of stress, had not slept well and had spent all day folding washing, making food and caring for the boys) when he decided to start telling me about how hard it was going to be for me not to have that 'release' at the end of each day by having a glass of wine.
'But I don't just have one or two glasses of wine!!' I reminded him with gritted teeth. 'I have a bottle and a half! That fantasy of just a couple to unwind doesn't exist for me any more!' I was getting a bit angry. But hey, remember dear reader, that I was bloody knackered.
But then Mr D started getting defensive and started trying to reinforce his point. Not on! I'm the bloody expert on this! I got more grouchy and tried to remind him about my determined over-drinking. The last thing I need is someone, especially my husband, to undermine my resolve and lead me down the path of romantic reminiscing about drinking. Romance be damned, my drinking has been anything but romantic and my unwinding at the end of the day was more like a complete unravelling.
I don't miss going to the loo and looking at the back of the door thinking 'I'm pissed'.
I don't miss going to the loo 3 times overnight.
I don't miss being awake in the wee small hours feeling guilty about how much wine I sank the night before.
I don't miss cursing that we have no panadol in the house in the morning.
I don't miss yelling at the boys to stop yelling because my head is pounding.
I don't miss my guts churning and my head aching until mid afternoon.
I don't miss dragging my sorry ass through the day because of a hangover.
I don't miss the sly fox in my brain thinking about how much wine to get, how much wine is left...
I don't miss that sly wine-drinking boozy fox at all..
Anyway back to last night. I decided to breath deeply and remember to ask myself 'what is actually wrong here' and realise nothing was other than Mr D being thoughtless. So I calmed myself by whipping cream for pudding and putting clean sheets on the bed then ran myself a bubble bath and soaked while Mr D put the boys down. I forgave him later when he bought me some white chocolate in bed and we watched England and Scotland play each other in the Rugby World Cup.
Life wasn't so bad after all. And I was never seriously tempted to have a drink.
Love, Mrs D xxx
Mr D was out and had arrived back just before the ambulance arrived so he stayed behind with the other two.
So last night - Saturday - Mr D was having a glass of wine (and bear in mind I was tired from a night of stress, had not slept well and had spent all day folding washing, making food and caring for the boys) when he decided to start telling me about how hard it was going to be for me not to have that 'release' at the end of each day by having a glass of wine.
'But I don't just have one or two glasses of wine!!' I reminded him with gritted teeth. 'I have a bottle and a half! That fantasy of just a couple to unwind doesn't exist for me any more!' I was getting a bit angry. But hey, remember dear reader, that I was bloody knackered.
But then Mr D started getting defensive and started trying to reinforce his point. Not on! I'm the bloody expert on this! I got more grouchy and tried to remind him about my determined over-drinking. The last thing I need is someone, especially my husband, to undermine my resolve and lead me down the path of romantic reminiscing about drinking. Romance be damned, my drinking has been anything but romantic and my unwinding at the end of the day was more like a complete unravelling.
I don't miss going to the loo and looking at the back of the door thinking 'I'm pissed'.
I don't miss going to the loo 3 times overnight.
I don't miss being awake in the wee small hours feeling guilty about how much wine I sank the night before.
I don't miss cursing that we have no panadol in the house in the morning.
I don't miss yelling at the boys to stop yelling because my head is pounding.
I don't miss my guts churning and my head aching until mid afternoon.
I don't miss dragging my sorry ass through the day because of a hangover.
I don't miss the sly fox in my brain thinking about how much wine to get, how much wine is left...
I don't miss that sly wine-drinking boozy fox at all..
Anyway back to last night. I decided to breath deeply and remember to ask myself 'what is actually wrong here' and realise nothing was other than Mr D being thoughtless. So I calmed myself by whipping cream for pudding and putting clean sheets on the bed then ran myself a bubble bath and soaked while Mr D put the boys down. I forgave him later when he bought me some white chocolate in bed and we watched England and Scotland play each other in the Rugby World Cup.
Life wasn't so bad after all. And I was never seriously tempted to have a drink.
Love, Mrs D xxx
Saturday, October 1, 2011
Aaahhhh, alcohol buzz...
I remember the first time I ever got drunk. It was at our family holiday home and I was probably 15 or 16 and it was down on the beach drinking Marque Vue. Not sure how to spell that, we used to call it Marque Spew anyway, which is kind of ironic considering that night I did spew. In the bath. Marshmallows. Must have eaten a whole packet and out they came. Pink and white, almost whole, in the bath. Oh charming.
There must be people in the world (with delicate constitutions?) who have an experience like that and decide never to overindulge on alcohol ever again. Not me. That first experience didn't put me off, no sirree bob! No delicate constitution here, I've got the stomach of an ox! I've been pounding it and overindulging on the grog ever since. Well until about 2 months ago that is when I made this huge decision to live a sober life and be a *gasp* NON DRINKER!!!!!!!
Told my Dad this morning. I've got the language down pat now, so can get my reasons across pretty quick.
"I've always had a taste for it but lately it's been running away on me"
and
"I've got such a dysfunctional, unhealthy relationship with alcohol"
and
"I'm not in the slightest bit interested in 1 or 2 glasses of wine, I want 4. Or 6."
Dad was supportive, said he was proud of me. Time is what I really need to show everyone how serious I am. I'm sure there are some doubters. They'll see. I'll prove to them I mean it.
In one and a half weeks I turn 40.
Love, Mrs D xxx
There must be people in the world (with delicate constitutions?) who have an experience like that and decide never to overindulge on alcohol ever again. Not me. That first experience didn't put me off, no sirree bob! No delicate constitution here, I've got the stomach of an ox! I've been pounding it and overindulging on the grog ever since. Well until about 2 months ago that is when I made this huge decision to live a sober life and be a *gasp* NON DRINKER!!!!!!!
Told my Dad this morning. I've got the language down pat now, so can get my reasons across pretty quick.
"I've always had a taste for it but lately it's been running away on me"
and
"I've got such a dysfunctional, unhealthy relationship with alcohol"
and
"I'm not in the slightest bit interested in 1 or 2 glasses of wine, I want 4. Or 6."
Dad was supportive, said he was proud of me. Time is what I really need to show everyone how serious I am. I'm sure there are some doubters. They'll see. I'll prove to them I mean it.
In one and a half weeks I turn 40.
Love, Mrs D xxx
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