sober

Holiday Time the AF Way

/ Lexyvale / Leave a comment

Peppers

65 days into this alcohol free journey – or AF as they say in the sober circles. Although it’s not really a count down to 100 days anymore. Not drinking booze has become my new normal, and not a struggle most of the time. The days are tallied up on an app that I go into now and then out of curiosity, and when people ask, which they do quite often.

I passed the half way mark while we were on holidays. The three of us went to Palm Cove in Far North Queensland to escape the Southern Highlands winter for a week. It was one of those lay around the pool holidays, at a naff but lovely resort with a huge pool full of kids (school holidays), a swim up bar and a bar tab that you avoid thinking about until the last day.

What else is there to do but to drink from midday, right? A beer or 2 with lunch, cocktails at the swim up bar, pre-dinner drinks, wine with dinner. Usually I’d cruise through those holidays in an alcohol haze, not really getting drunk, just kind of slow  – until the evening when it would be revved up a notch. Head to bed by 10 or 11, wake up the next day and do it all again. By the end of the week, I’m feeling properly pickled and in need of a detox.

But not this time! I’d be lying if I said I wasn’t tempted. Normally I do love a beer (or 5) by a resort pool in the warm sun, and hey I’m on holidays aren’t I? Surely hitting the pause button on the 100 days was acceptable.

But then I used a technique I learnt in one of the “quit lit” books I’ve read: I played it out in my head. What would having a beer by the pool mean? It’d certainly mean I’d have another. And then that would certainly mean I’d have (or want) another. I’d have to slow down there, as it’s day time and I still have an 8 year old to be a parent to, so there’s no sitting at the bar getting on it in party mode like the old, single days.

So I’d slow down or stop and start to feel yuck – that tired, hazy, headachy feeling you get when you have a few drinks in the day then stop. It kind of makes the rest of the day a big effort, until starting again with pre-dinner drinks, all the while feeling foggy until that first drink kicks in and gives you a lift again. Of course, then, there’s the next day. The hangovers are probably reasonably mild, and all over after a good breakfast, but since I’d given myself permission to drink the previous day, I would do so again, and everyday it gets a little worse, getting tireder every day, eating more and more and go home 2kgs heavier and feeling like crap.

So I didn’t! I recognised the thoughts for what they were – conditioned responses. Of course the thought of a beer by the pool popped into my head! My brain has 30 years of conditioning to think that way! I brushed the thought away and ordered a Coke Zero instead. It will take a long time for those conditioned responses to go away (assuming of course that I continue with this experiment) but my training has begun. One night, the barman forgot the “virgin” part of Virgin Mojito, but I tasted it on the first sip and sent it back without an issue, no temptation to secretly drink it, what would be the point of that.

Did I enjoy the holiday? Damn right I did! I went to the gym a few times, and did a 5km run and felt great. I enjoyed the meals but made good choices so didn’t come home heavier. I felt cheerful and relaxed and present for the whole time. We were in bed by 9.30, when I took my iPad and headphones and binge watched Season 2 of Unreal on Stan (a big disappointment after Season 1) using the hotel wifi. Heaven!

I’m sure if we went with a bunch of friends, it would have been more like party time and quite different, harder certainly, but for a family holiday, alcohol free is a winner.

The biggest issues were the mocktails. Firstly, my virgin mojito cost around $10 in most places. WTF?? I Googled the recipe: it’s soda water, fresh lime, sugar and mint leaves. WHAT A RORT! Secondly, Miss 8 acquired a taste for them and lost interest in her $3 Sprite. As soon as mine hit the table, she was into it and downed half of it before I even knew it had been delivered to the table. By the end, she was ordering them for herself. Yeah… no. $10 drinks for an 8 year old? I think not.

 

 

 

35 Days – boredom and clarity

/ Lexyvale / Leave a comment

bored

Five weeks in! Go me!

Since my last blogs, which were in the first two weeks when my resolve was strong, and the first two weekends were busy with house guests swarming, things have changed a little.

Life settled back into it’s normal, guest-free rhythm. Work and school all week, followed by weekends at home on the farm. For various reasons, I’ve never managed to cultivate a busy, active social life living here in the Southern Highlands. It’s very different to my old life where I always had strong friend networks and social events on all the time. I had a tribe, in fact I had several tribes. Whilst I have a few friends here, who I value very highly, I have never really found my tribe.

The upshot of this is that when my old tribe isn’t visiting (which is most of the time), my weekends are very quiet. I’m home on the farm, catching up with the weeks’ housework, planning meals, and trying – usually unsuccessfully – to minimise my daughters time on the iPad.

Now to some of you busy, overbooked people out there, that might sound like heaven. I remember a time I dreamed of a weekend with no plans. It’s just that these days, I have no plans pretty much every weekend.

So, let me get the point before this dissolves into yet another whinge-fest. My point is that I’ve realised that it’s not so much socialising that is a trigger for me to drink alcohol, it’s boredom. Without realising it, in recent years on those weekends where I’ve nothing to do but housework, cooking or parenting, I’ve found myself totally, mind-numbingly bored.

So what to I do? Crack a beer of course! Why not? It’s 3 in the afternoon, Andy’s started (he has that annoying ability to stop if he wants to so he starts early in anticipation of going to bed early), may as well get going. Two beers lead to white wine and together we ease into Saturday night.

Weekends, therefore, are a trigger for me, but not for the reasons I expected; what triggers me more than socialising is boredom.

For those reading this imagining that I’m black-out drunk in front of my kid by 5pm, let me defend myself and be clear. Firstly, I would ease into it. A 3pm start doesn’t mean I’m hiding in the pantry swigging wine straight from the bottle. Secondly, I am – for want of a better expression – a very good drinker.

By that I mean that I can function very well on booze. I don’t go off the rails doing stupid shit. I don’t slur my words unless it’s very late and been a very big night, which would generally only happen if we have company. I can function as a good wife and mother. The dinner gets cooked and served, the kitchen gets cleaned, the kid is looked after and loved. A friend recently commented that I could be 1.5 bottles in and you’d never know it.

I don’t get in the car and drive, and I don’t call everyone I know tearfully telling them I love them. I don’t pick fights. I just get on with having a quiet Saturday afternoon/night at home with my little family. I don’t say all that to brag, in fact I see it as a curse. I know people who don’t drink because when they do, they do or say stupid shit and get themselves into trouble. I never had that barrier (with a few notable exceptions through the years, nobody’s perfect).

And now, five weeks alcohol free (or AF as they say in the sober community) the biggest challenges for me so far are 1) I have suddenly become acutely aware how bored I am and have been with my life and 2) what the hell do I do now to fill the many, many freed up hours that were previously filled with  a couple of beers and a bottle (sometimes more) of wine?

So, if I’m to continue successfully on this AF path (btw I haven’t yet made any decisions on if this is forever or just 100 days), I need to spice up my life, find ways to entertain myself while still meeting my family obligations.  I’m not a hobby person, but it looks like I’m going to have to find one. They say it’s good to be bored, that boredom fires up the creative juices. Boredom leads to progress.

I’ve also realised in my new sober clarity that no one can do it for me, it’s up to me. I have been guilty of trying to shift the blame in the past – to Andy for wanting to live on a farm, to motherhood, to my friends daring to live their lives and not entertaining me every weekend. But the only person that can make changes to make myself happier is me. I know that now.

 

 

The Best Timing of All

/ Lexyvale / 1 Comment

Bonfire

Day 14

In hindsight it turns out that I chose both the worst and best time to make a public vow of sobriety.

Worst because for the first 2 weekends – notoriously the hardest part of going alcohol free – it was party time here at the farm. Old friends coming to stay loaded with food and wine. Winter in the Southern Highlands is the time for bonfires and red wine, kids running free in the (snake free) paddocks, there’s no driving anywhere, everyone is in party mode. I am not a winter person, but these times make it bearable.

However, its FULL of triggers – it would have been very easy, and indeed probably very understandable, to cave in. I really did choose a time that would challenge me the most.

As it turns out, though, the timing was perfect. The steadfast resolve that came from the announcement meant I didn’t cave. I didn’t allow the voice in my head to win – it just wasn’t a decision and so the voice went quiet. I kept waiting for the cravings, for the white knuckling, for the irritation at all the noise and fun around me, but it never came. I felt relaxed and happy the entire weekend. Sure the thoughts of a glass of wine popped into my head, but when they did I’d remind myself of  what that would mean…

Drinking me would have polished off at least 2 bottles of wine to myself each day. With that amount of wine under my belt, I’d have tuned out from all the fun chitter chatter, buzzing around in my own world.

Sober me was engaged and involved. I have caught up with my dear friends’ lives. We’ve dissected at length the enigma of the “poo jogger” and the bizarre popularity of Trump in the US. We’ve shaken our heads over the spectacular self-created undoing of  Barnaby Joyce.

And I hugged and kissed my daughter at bed time, whispering good night to her as she dropped off to sleep so happy and tired from a full day of playing and running with other kids. I didn’t breathe wine breath all over her, or slur silly, non-nonsensical rubbish at her, or impatiently dismiss her fears that she often has when it comes to lights out, eager to get back out to the party.

And remarkably, I remember everything.

So my announcement, whilst challenging, was at the best time of all because these last 2 weekends have taught me the most valuable lesson of all…. I LIKE being sober. I really, really like it.

And I LOVE my friends. 🙂

xx

PS. MASSIVE shout out to my Andy who, many weeks ago after I was having a bit of a poor me “I don’t have any friends anymore” moment went to a huge effort to make this weekend happen, and to keep it a surprise. I have been very spoiled this weekend. xxxxx

#sober #soberlife

No Shame

/ Lexyvale / 6 Comments

wine o'clock

Since I outed myself about my relationship with alcohol, I’ve had so many people comment both online and in person on how “brave” it was to be so public about such a “private matter” that it’s got me wondering: why?

Why is it so shocking that I would be open about this admission? And why am I surprised that people are shocked? Haven’t I just admitted in public that I’m an alcoholic?

My answer to that is no, I haven’t. I don’t identify with the term “alcoholic”. It’s an awful word with dreadful connotations. When we think of an alcoholic, we think of the homeless person on the street clutching their brown paper bag, all hope gone, their life wasted away by a terrible addiction. Alcoholics are scorned, considered shameful that they lost control and let it get so far. The blame is laid squarely on the drinker.

According to society, there’s just two types of drinkers; normal drinkers who can moderate easily, and hopeless alcoholics – two extremes. In actual fact, alcohol dependence is a spectrum. There’s degrees of dependence ranging from take-it-or-leave-it, up to that alcoholic extreme, and most drinkers, like me, sit somewhere in between. Most of us can lead productive lives, keeping families and homes ticking along, hold down high pressure jobs, maintain relationships. There’s even a word for it: “high functioning”.

We can do all that, but just feel crap all the time and pile on weight.

So I admit to being one of those in-betweenies, which means I do admit to a level of addiction, absolutely, or I wouldn’t be here, but alcoholic? No, I don’t accept that term – I don’t take on that shame.

You see, I have learnt enough about this poison that to know that it’s the drink not the drinker that causes the addiction. We grow up in a world where booze is revered. As kids we watch our parents drinking every night, with more on the weekends. Everywhere we look we are bombarded with images of people having fun together with drinks in their hands.

Now it’s all over our social media feeds – hundreds and hundreds of bright coloured, witty, fun memes (whatever that word means); we all have these come up on our feeds on a regular basis. It’s the only drug in the world that those who don’t use it have to justify. Every event from kids parties to book clubs to dinners out to play dates involve booze. We have booze to relax, booze to celebrate, booze to commiserate, booze to socialise, family dinners, holidays. Almost everything I do involves alcohol.

Point being that society literally PUSHES a highly addictive drug onto us every. single. day. The “addictive drug” part is a scientific fact, it’s not under debate. Regular use will change the neuro pathways in your brain over time, literally changing your brain to make it think it needs it and that it gives some sort of pleasure and stress relief.

No one told us this fact when we were watching our parents drink and roar with laughter with their friends, or seeing glamorous movie stars elegantly sipping champagne, or singing “I feel like a Tooheys”. We heard about the dangers of heroin and tobacco and marijuana and cocaine, but we were never told about the dangers of alcohol. We were never taught to treat it with caution like we are with those other drugs, quite the opposite.

So no shame here. I’m not afraid to talk about it. I didn’t know.

My name is Lexy, and I am not an alcoholic.

PS. in case you’re wondering why I did go public, it’s purely selfish – it’s keeps me on track and gives me accountability. Without that Facebook post last week, I absolutely would have drunk one the weekend. I intend to keep blogging the journey (don’t worry, not every day), even though I risk never being invited to anything ever again, and I don’t for one second expect anyone to keep following. But if you do..feel free to ask me any questions you’re curious about.