A peculiar amnesia..

I read somewhere how that is what an alcoholics brain has, a peculiar amnesia, and forgets all the bad reasons why not to drink and remembers only the fantasy reasons in order to drink again.  I can almost already feel that happening.  No!  I'm not going to let myself forget.  That fantasy has gone, gone, gone.  I just have to get used to living without alcohol.  Planning events sober.  I mean the evening is just going to pass and then it'll be the morning and will you have lost anything by not boozing the night before?  I really just think I have to not touch it again.

Had a great chat with my gorgeous sister last night.  Sort of told her my plan.  It's pretty scary because I don't want to set myself up for a fall, or to be judged if I fail.  But then again anything to help me succeed and if that's letting people know that I'm trying to live completely sober then that might help. 
What's different about this abstenance is that I'm not counting the days like I used to, or thinking about what I'm going to drink on the night I start again.  I'm looking into an endless stretch of no alcohol.  My step-brother's wedding, my 40th celebrations, even Christmas and New Year's I'm thinking about being dry and it feels good...

I'm going to show everyone I can do this..

Love, Mrs D xxx

Tense...

I'm kind of snippy and tense, which is a real bummer.  I thought I'd be feeling happier! Lighter! Free!  I've got no hangovers, no guilt and I'm sleeping right through every night (as opposed to my alcohol insomnia).  So why am I so tense?  I was snippy to Mr D last night, and yelled at my Big Guy this morning because he was fighting with me over having to do his spelling practice.  Jeez I just wish I could lighten up.  I need to shrug my shoulders and try to smooth myself out.  I should be feeling great!

It's one week since my final binge, and I'm so aware that it's early early days yet.  But I haven't wanted a drink at all and don't feel nervous about any upcoming weekends or events.  I feel like I never want to pour myself another glass of wine and go back down that track.  But I'm nervous because I just know it can't be this easy.

Big deep breath in .. woosh, breath out. In, out.  In, out....

Love, Mrs D xxx

A small test..

Ok so last night we took the kids out for an early meal at Mr D's colleague's house.  There were a few adults there, watching the rugby and then takeaways for dinner.  Nice low-key kiwi way of doing things.  Beer & wine on offer on arrival.  "No thanks" from me.  Easy.  Didn't feel a pull.  No internal conversation within myself trying to deny, push away, justify and then usually end with an acceptance "yeah a white would be great, thanks."

At dinner the nice wine glasses were out on the table and the red was opened.  My poison of choice.  But still - no pull! - and a "not for me thanks" tripped easily off my lips.

I think it was easy because I don't know these people very well.  No-one blinked at my refusal of alcohol.  I'm pleased to have had a dry evening there as I already have a bad booze memory with them.  The first time this colleague and I met, at a BBQ thrown by the boss of the company welcoming her into the fold, I drank just a little too much, and got a tad loose lipped .

Lets revisit a vew bad social booze memories so you, dear blog, will forever remind me of my need to stick to my resolve.

A rare night out for Mr D and I.  Started with a few drinks at home, then to a bar for cocktails and tapas.  Last stop a small gathering of friends at a bar where some DJ mates were spinning tunes.  Me, drunk at this stage.  Slurring just a little.  Talking to an old acquaintance and him making an excuse to get away from me.  I know this to be true.  Me slurring.  Him excusing himself badly, and moving to the other side of the room.  Embarrassment.

Dinner with a bunch of workmates at a restaurant near the office.  Hitting it hard at work first.  Then hitting it hard at the dinner table.  Wobbling to the loo.  Spinning out.  Making it into a taxi.  Concentrating very hard in the back seat.  Really horribly drunk.  Managing to get inside.  Puking in the loo. 

A Saturday afternoon get-together with neighbourhood friends and kids.  3 families, 6 adults, 10 kids between us.  All of us boozing.  Like minded kiwis.  Speed drinking - girls, the wine! Fast, fast, fast.  Chatting, preparing food, eating, disco dancing with the kids!  Woo Hoo!!  9pm need to get the kids home, concentrating very hard now on getting things done.  Wobbling down the road with the pram, kids into bed.  Me into the loo, fingers down the throat to empty my stomach. 

To be fair to me these extreme examples of public drunkenness have occurred over the past 3 years.  But I know well the feeling of waking up with a tender throat and remembering I've been pushing my fingers down there to try and empty my stomach of all the booze I've been pouring into it.

Please sobriety stay with me.

Love, Mrs D xxx

Freaking out...

I've woken up with a sick, uneasy, nervy feeling in my stomach.  I was having dreams last night and I feel freaked out about what I'm doing.  Actually I'm not entirely sure why I feel nervous but I definitely have a nervy tummy.  I'm not exactly relaxed you could say.

No, didn't have a drink last night!  It was Saturday night but was totally fine not to drink.  Just at home with Mr. D (who had a couple of beers).  Still feel like it's not going to be a problem to never drink again but I know it's such early days and I haven't had any real temptations.  No nights out.  No family around cracking open the wine.  No parties or events to attend.  A non-drinking life hasn't been experienced yet.  I haven't proved to myself yet that I can do this.  I'm so nervous that I won't be able to.  But bloody hell I really really really really want to be able to just never have another drink again, ever.

Maybe the problem is the books I picked up from the library yesterday.  I had gone on the Auckland City Libraries website earlier in the week and ordered some titles that I thought might be useful to keep my brain strong.  But all they seem to have done is tell me I can't do this.

Take Bert Pluymen for example.  In his book 'The Thinking Person's Guide to Sobriety' he tells me, "..knowledge and self-awareness alone are absolutely worthless in fighting addiction. A bodily addiction will kick your ass while you're sitting around musing and reasoning and making resolutions."  NO!  It won't, it won't, it won't.  Please don't let it....

And William Alexander in 'Still Waters. Sobriety, Atonement, and Unfolding Enlightenment' tells me, "The life of addiction is one of perpetual longing.  That longing can continue for many years - for a lifetime - after the booze and the drugs are gone."  Really?  Really?

And then there's the mysterious John R (why the need to hide the surname?) who in 'Big Book Unplugged. A Young Person's Guide to Alcoholics Anonymous' says, "Willpower won't work.  Our resolve isn't strong enough.  Staying clean won't happen through some trick of the mind.  The addiction is too powerful , and we lose the power of choice."  Great.

Ok now I see why my guts are churning.  I'm being told left, right and centre that I can't do this.  Or at least that I can't do this alone. 

But I'm not alone!! I have you, dear blog.  Dear Blog.  Dearest Darling Blog. You are going to help save me.  I will do it by writing you every morning.  Together we can kick my booze-habit's butt.  See you tomorrow.

Love, Mrs D xxx

Pissing in a bottle...

We were crammed on the train heading down to Auckland's waterfront to join in the Rugby World Cup opening party celebrations.  At the front of our carriage were a group of pimply youths - nice enough looking chaps except for the fact they were absolutely slaughtered.  Full of hormones, excitement and booze.  It was 3pm.  They were making loud jovial remarks, largely indistinguishable until a chant built up.."FILL THE BOTTLE!! FILL THE BOTTLE!! FILL THE BOTTLE!!"  I looked at Mr D, surely they couldn't be encouraging their mate to piss in a bottle?

They were and eventually he did, and held it proudly aloft.  A 1ltr coke bottle now filled with steaming yellow urine.  Charming.  My mind easily brought forward memories of being horribly drunk, an out of control feeling, needing to piss, needing to vomit, needing to lie down, needing to stop.  Down the other end of the carriage I felt great!  I was past that now!

A couple of hours later we were pushing the pram along the wharf, through the crowd past a row of newly built bars and restaurants.  The sun was streaming down and the crowd was happy and friendly.  Trendy parents with kids and mugs of beer sat on wooden benches with the sea lapping nearby.  Young professionals laughed together holding shiny glasses of chardonnay and fizz.  BAM there was a pain in my belly, a hurt, a pang.  Surely not, never again?  Really?  Never again would I have that fun feeling, that freedom, that abandon.  Chatty, hedonistic fun.

Took a bit of mental work at that point.  Remember Mrs D, remember.

It had stopped being fun.
It had stopped being fun.
It had stopped being fun.

More shockers...

Jeepers, reading that story in black and white does just the trick I hoped it would.  It sure does read 'dysfunctional'.  I think I might write out a couple of more sad, unhealthy, dysfunctional facts about my drinking to ram this mission home.  Because right now I'm thinking it's going to be a doddle to give up booze!  But it's only been a few days and the memory of recent binges looms large in my brain.  I'm sure as the weeks go by I'll be lulled into thinking I can start again, pressure will come on, and the pull, the incredible pull of the booze will call to me...
So...
It's not unheard of for me to dash out and buy more wine on a random week night trying to find an open bottle shop because the bottle we've just drunk isn't enough (Mr D is always allowed two small glasses, if he's lucky)..
I always pour a glass almost to the rim and slurp the top down straight away...
My eyes flit around furtively when there's wine open ... to check - who is pouring it, how big are they going, is there much left? how much more can I get before the bottle ends?
I can't count the number of times I've dragged my sorry ass to the gym and lumbered around hungover wondering if any of the other women in the class drink heavily too..?
I've got good at remembering to always have a glass of water and panadol beside me at night..

Today is the opening of the Rugby World Cup and New Zealand is going nuts.. we are heading down to the waterfront with the kids to soak up some of the Opening Party atmosphere then home to watch the All Blacks play the opening game.  Usually I'd have a good bottle and a half of red wine to accompany that .. but not tonight....
Love, Mrs D xxx

The final straw..

On Monday straight after my husband, Mr D, took my two eldest sons off to their Scouts meeting, I jumped in the car with my toddler and drove down the road to the bottle shop.  Sad fact number 1 is that I said to Little Guy as I grabbed him "lets go prove how disfunctional I really am".  Sad fact number 2 is that in my haste to back out of the carport I ran over the new pram and smashed up one of the front tires.  It's now completely stuffed.  I hadn't even had a drink!!  Sad fact number 3 is that when I got to the bottle shop I grabbed two bottles of wine instead of just one.

Actually there are far more sad facts than that.  It's sad that I had only been back drinking for 5 days after 3 1/2 weeks off.  It's sad that Mr D and I had a brief discussion before Scouts and had said that this Monday would be an alcohol free day.  And it's sad that I couldn't manage that.

So home I come with the wine and promptly skull half of the bottle of white while I bath the Little Guy and tidy up the dinner mess.  Then I panic and feel bad so decide to HIDE THE REST of the white and pour myself and Mr D a glass of the red and leave the rest of the bottle sitting on the bench showing it's nearly full.

I had to use caps there because that right there was a turning point.  I had never hidden wine before. 
Mr D came home and kind of laughed that I hadn't been able to go without and I laughed too (a ha ha!) and made a song and dance about how I'd gone slow - see look the bottle is nearly full! - and then Mr D had a couple of small glasses over the next hour and I finished off the rest of the red myself.  Sigh, another binge. 

Of course I slept like crap and woke up feeling tired, hungover and really really guilt-ridden and disfunctional.  This was yet another binge for me, one binge at the end of a long line of binges.  My drinking history is long and probably typical.  What's perhaps not so typical is that lately, as my drinking has been escallating so too has my inability to accept it. 

So Tuesday mid-morning I write myself a letter (I'll re-print it in a later blog).  Lunch-time Mr D comes home from his shift at work and we chat and inevitably talk turns to last night and I cry and confess to the hiding the wine and he admits he wondered and did actually check the recycling bin to see if there was another bottle as I had seemed more full of wine than I'd said.  (He wasn't going to tell me he'd checked the bin, that too is really scary right there). 

And, long story short, I've reached a tipping point and from now have decided to remove alcohol from my life.

I'm scared, it's going to be hard.  Our family all drink.  Our friends all drink.  And I'm going to try and do this without any outside support.  Just this blog.  So stay posted and I'll let you know how I get on.

Love, Mrs D xxx