London 2 - Clubbing

Funny when I think back that I actually had about 6 months off alcohol in London. It started after the night I woke up in a hotel room with a stranger sleeping on the floor. He was lovely actually, his name was Ed, he was Irish and working as a contractor at Barclays (or one of the big banks, maybe NatWest). After I had gone home and been rejected by the ex I had rung a friend and met her for lunch instead. It was the first time I'd been to Liverpool St station so it was only a month or so in to my time in London. It was enough time though that my two best friends were back from travelling around Europe. I had met one the night before for drinks. She had sensibly gone home at around 11pm, while I, of course well drunk by this time had stayed in the bar with some guys. One of which thankfully looked after me and took me back to his hotel - which may have been an ulterior motive but honestly in the state I'd have been in I probably never would have made it home alone. Anyway, I digress. After this night I met my friend for lunch and for the first time ever said the words "I think I'm an alcoholic". It's easy to say them to yourself. It's not so easy to say them to someone else. I was probably still drunk when I said them which is what gave me the guts to do so. But it definitely got me thinking. I went out the next Friday night to the pub and didn't drink! Irish guy Ed met me there. Lovely guy. But there was no spark. The interesting thing was I didn't just stop drinking myself, but I also couldn't stand being around drunk people. I had started to go clubbing and take e. I loved it. The first night was amazing. I went to a club with 2 girls I had only just met (through a friend) and for the first time in my life actually felt connected and able to communicate. Losing the inhibition of not being able to open up to people without being slurring drunk was life changing. Needless to say those girls are still my friends now, one my absolute bestie. It was a revelation being able to empathise, talk to people, dance and stay awake all night without drunkenness. Guys on e weren't the creepy. slurring messes they were on alcohol. Rightly or wrongly a club felt like a safer environment than a pub. People on e cared about each other, talked, connected. Whereas people who were drunk just wanted to get off and ended up falling over and throwing up. That was my impression at that time anyway. During those first few months I met and got dumped by a nice young English man. It ended up that my BFF and me swore off not only alcohol but men as well. We went out all weekend, dancing in clubs until 6am before going to after parties to continue or chill out. And then we discovered coke...

Holidays

I got through Christmas. I got through New Years. And I got through a week away in the snow. I don't know why we feel we have to congratulate ourselves for this. But we do. None of it was actually that hard. But it still irks me that no one really gets it. My hubby and in laws don't get why I don't drink, why I can't just have one and that I'll never drink again. Cue Christmas carols in our local square, in the cold mist, the smell of mulled wine wafting through. My father in law, meaning well, asks if I want any, of course I do! I'd love nothing more than to have a mulled wine, and another, the feeling of the warm smooth liquid going down my throat, hitting my tummy and the wonderful feeling of the alcohol hitting my brain. I say no but he mishears and gets me one. Of course I don't drink it which causes a few raised eyebrows as he's sure I said yes. Cue dinners out when I'd love nothing more than to have a say in what wine is purchased and partake in the celebratory bubbles followed by a nice, deep French red. Umm, just the Perrier for me please. Christmas day was actually ok. Normally I'm into the bubbles by 9am. This time no one started drinking until lunchtime. I was driving anyway and just made sure I had my non alcoholic bubbles topped up. New Years was actually great. The kids were sick so we didn't last long initially at the local dinner/party but I did manage to drag Miss 8 back just before midnight though to do some dancing and do the happy new year thing. There's nothing better than getting on the dance floor to take your mind off the fact that you haven't got an alcoholic drink in your hand. And once you say no once people don't care that you're not drinking - it's yourself who has to come to terms with it. We've just got back from a week away in the snow. It was the first time the girls had seen snow so was pretty special. The gite owners "kindly" left a bottle of red wine for us. Hubby quietly polished that off. The drive to the ski slope was pretty hairy - we didn't have chains and although the road was pretty clear there were a few spots which were pretty icy. I was driving and drove all the way up in 2nd gear. Pretty nerve wracking, especially as the mist started to close in as soon as we got there. Again the smell of mulled wine wafting from the café. I had a coffee instead. Later hubby said to me " I thought you'd treat yourself to a wine after the drive up there, you deserved it." Really? Lost for words. Absolutely lost for words. Being sober is a lonely place.

London 1 - Exes.

When I arrive in London, earlier than planned thanks to the Scot, my two best girlfriends are still travelling around Europe. Therefore the only person I know, and who meets me at the airport and gives me a place to stay for the first few weeks, is my ex. He is still with the girl he started going out with after me, it is serious. I naively think we can all be friends, that we will all be friends forever just like we were before. After all my ex and his best friend were my best friends for 5 years. Why shouldn't we still be friends? How naïve I was. Looking back with life's experience of course it was never to be. He kindly let me stay for a few weeks before I got in contact with the son of my mum's friend who took me under his wing. He had just moved into a new flat so I became the dosser (sleeping in the lounge for cheap rent). He introduced me to his friends and I gradually built a new life away from the ex. I was still very emotionally tied to the ex and still phoned him, met him for lunch occasionally and went round to watch the rugby with them. We even went to the rugby world cup quarter final between the All Blacks and France at Twickenham (we lost). There are three instances that stand out that cut those ties. At the time each one devastated me. But of course it was the best thing for me. 1) I'd arranged (with our mutual friend) to go round to their flat to watch a rugby game. Just before I left the ex phoned and told me I couldn't come round. That I could never come round again. It was too hard for the new GF. I was in tears. It made no difference. This was a dagger that hit home that she was more important than me. 2) I had woken up one Friday morning in a hotel room with a strange guy (thankfully he was a nice guy and had slept on the floor). I was still drunk. It was the first week of a new job and I had to call in sick. It was the first time that I really had that sickening feeling that I may be an alcoholic. Sure I knew I had a drinking problem. But an alcoholic? I took myself home, got cleaned up and phoned the ex. I really needed to talk to someone so could he meet me for lunch? No. Not today and not another day. More tears. Another dagger, that he no longer cares about me. 3) In the New Year about 6 or 7 months after I arrived, they got engaged. The ex's sister (who was over at the time and who I was still friends with) told me. She told me there was an engagement party and that she was telling me because she didn't want me to find out from anyone else. I stupidly for a second thought that I was being invited. Of course I wasn't. The final dagger, it was over, done, I was nothing more than a distant ex. The Scot, and this, I think goes someway to explaining my emotional state for those first twelve months in London. I was lost. I didn't have a particular purpose. I was filling a gap. I filled it with friends - my best friend now was my best friend then. I met her through the friend that took me in. We were inseparable. I also filled it with drugs. Funnily enough after waking up with the strange guy in 2) above - I actually did stop drinking for a bit. But by then I had found ecstasy.

Three weeks since my last post! I haven't dome much in those three weeks. But also I haven't really thought about alcohol. I just don't think about it anymore. It's doesn't bother me when someone has a drink in front of me. Even at home. When I go out I have sparkling water, or join the kids in having a lemonade, or an iced tea, or even a hot chocolate. I imagine it will be harder in summer - there's nothing like a nice cold beer on a hot day - so I'll have to find something as a replacement before that time. But I digress. I'm writing now because hubby is out for a run and the  kids are upstairs playing. It's the calm before the storm! My parents in law arrive this afternoon to spend Christmas with us. They will be drinking. I will not. Hubby will be drinking. I will not. We are going to friends' for Christmas lunch. They will be drinking. I will not. I say this with completely neutral feelings. I don't feel angry about it. Or frustrated. I actually feel nothing - I'm not sure if this is a good thing or not but it seems better than feeling angry. I'm looking forward to enjoying Christmas day with friends and family and being completely present in the moment - instead of being in a heady haze of champagne. I'm also looking forward to being able to do something with the evening - instead of just looking for more alcohol to drink. And of course to waking up on Boxing Day without a hangover!

Progress

The other night I watched the rugby in a bar. In the past rugby has always been associated with drinking. I would watch in a bar or at friends houses and get absolutely tipsy if not roaring drunk. A previous wake up call had been during the rugby world cup last year when I drove home drunk with my 3 year old in the car. It didn't matter what time of the day the rugby was on - early morning games broadcast from Europe would be celebrated with bubbles. Evening games from NZ/Aus with wine or bubbles. This time we had invited a large group of new friends (we are currently living on the other side of the world from home) to watch the game with us as a thank you for welcoming us so warmly into their village. We put on nibbles and drinks (a premixed alcoholic cocktail). The crowd was international with children running round and playing happily. I stayed until almost midnight at which time I took the exhausted kids home. Hubby stayed on (oh how times have changed). It wasn't until I was lying in bed later with the 4 year old snuggled up to me that I realised I hadn't thought about alcohol at all during the evening. I hadn't felt angry that I couldn't drink it, or lost when someone asked me if I wanted a drink. In fact I hadn't thought about it at all. It helped that there was a non alcoholic cocktail available so I didn't have to think about what to drink. And I was busy watching the rugby, talking to friends and supervising kids. But it feels like after 8 weeks that the habit might finally be breaking. I no longer feel too aggrieved when hubby pours a glass of red either. A cup of tea and piece (or 10) of chocolate in front of the fire seems to do just as well!

Late teens / Early twenties

My late teens / early twenties were a bit of a blur. Everything revolved around drinking. In my last year of school I was regularly going to the pub, drinking with my older brothers, staying out all night. I even remember drinking at 10am one day when skipping school with a boyfriend - I was nervous, shy, I didn't actually know what to do or say without a drink in my hand. Then university. I was 17 when I started university. There was a pub on campus. I spent many afternoons sitting on the pub terrace, alone, nursing a beer pretending to read my notes. I left home towards the end of the year. Needless to say my drinking increased, I put on weight, I failed most of my exams. Back home after the summer I started hanging out with some of my brother's friends. One would become my boyfriend for the next 5 years. They were heavy drinkers - I idolised them. We would meet up on a Friday night at someone's house and drink for a couple of hours before going out. They would polish off the best part of a bottle of vodka (mixed with orange juice, surely that's healthy?) while I would get through the best part of 2 bottles of Italian sparkling wine. Then we would go out to bars and clubs until the early hours drinking the whole time. We'd get a few hours sleep, have some fast food for breakfast, watch sport on TV and then do it all again the next night. This continued in more or less the same vein for the next 4 years. Some things changed: I moved in with them, got a weekend job (needless to say I was always hungover), Saturday afternoons in summer were spent on the cricket pitch and in winter watching rugby, I finally finished uni and got a job. But it was four years of heavy boozing every weekend. We lived for the weekend. Drinks at home, drinks at a restaurant/bar/club, more drinks at home. I know this is pretty normal for most kiwis. And this is the problem - it was normal. Everyone around me was doing a similar thing. Nobody thought they had a problem. When I drank too much and was sick it was funny. Alcohol was such a massive part of who we were and what we did. It was even normal to have a few drinks after work on a Friday night and drive home. I did this every week. 2, 3, 4 glasses of wine and then drive across the city. Thinking back now I was an emotional wreck in my early twenties. Maybe everyone is? My boyfriend and I split up for a bit, I didn't know who I was, or who I wanted to be, we got back together. Then he left to go overseas... I didn't realise it at the time but this was one of the defining moments of my life. I had been very dependant on him emotionally. The first chord was cut. Outside I was fine. Inside I was a wreck. Of course I drank. I latched on to another of my brother's friends, another heavy drinker of course, and we went clubbing every weekend. I went to London to visit my boyfriend and we decided to heave a break. I thought we would get back together when he got back in a couple of years. Back home I was having fun, I felt free - but I was jumping from one thing to the next, one guy to the next. I decided to join my girlfriends in London but I needed 8 months to pay off my credit card first. I had a fling with a Scot. My ex got together with someone else, he said it was serious. I fell in love with the Scot, he had to go back to Scotland. I brought my trip forward to join him, he broke my heart. Everything changes but the drinking stays the same. I still go to London, earlier than planned, with 800 pounds in my pocket and my credit card still maxed out.

Why can't you just control yourself?

It's been two weeks since my last post. Not that I haven't wanted to write, it's just that as no one knows I'm writing this it's hard to get the private time and space to do it. In the last two weeks I've been doing plenty of things where I normally would have drunk - out to dinner with friends, watching rugby in a bar, socialising in a bar, even just watching a good, juicy TV show at home with hubby. I wouldn't say it's been easy. Every time someone offers me a drink I still want to say yes and still feel pissed off that I can't say yes. Whatever situation I'm in though thankfully I only have to say no once and then my brain gives up its nagging. Which is a relief. I've also started telling people that I no longer drink. Everyone understands. Many were witness to my last drunken escapade and in fact many have said that they need to reduce or give up too. It's amazing when you talk about it how many people struggle with the same issue. You either get it or you don't. You either have the problem or you don't. Hubby doesn't have the problem. Thank goodness or life would really be a mess. But that means I can't really talk to him about it. When I got a little annoyed at the 3rd glass of red wine he had in front of me the other night and said exasperatedly "I wish I could just have one too!" his response was "well why don't you and just learn to control yourself!" Oh if only it were that easy. It's not that I want him to stop drinking. There's no reason for him to stop. But I feel I'm still in a stage where I could easily kid myself that I could start to have one glass at a time and that would be ok, wouldn't it? What if I never drank while out but allowed myself one glass at home per night? Where's the harm in that? Oh wait I've tried rules before. And the goalposts slowly move. One per night at home, two per night at home, two at home and one while out, three at home and two while out....etc etc etc. I know hubby doesn't understand why I can't just control myself. Why I'll never trust myself with alcohol again. I know it makes him angry which is why I can't talk to him about it. I guess it's why there are so many recovery blogs out there. People need to get their thoughts out and connect with other people who "get it". I'm sure I'll share this blog with friends and family one day. But I'm definitely not ready to yet.