60 days! And a whole year in Canada!

 Hello my dear friends and readers, let me just get my cup of tea...

I want to celebrate the fact that I have maintained my sobriety for 60 days. It wasn't easy, I will tell you that. In fact, for the first month, my newly 4 year old daughter became a demon. Almost as if she knew that this was the time to do it, because Mummy isn't self medicating every night anymore. She was a feral, non sleeping, manipulative, whining, non eating, little monster who held her bowel movements just to add a little poison to the already toxic ointment. 

But then, just as suddenly and miraculously, she changed. Within the last two weeks, she has, as everyone said she would "gotten better". "It will get better," everyone said to me when I showed up to anything looking like I'd been dragged across an 8 lane motorway during rush hour and then trodden underfoot by a herd of stressed out Buffalo who are late for an important meeting. I would look at them through the one eye that could still focus from behind a mop of straw like hair, smile a crooked smile and nod meekly, which seemed to satisfy them, whilst thinking to myself what a crock of shit they were all talking. 

So all of a sudden (and I really don't want to say this because I actually genuinely believe that saying good things about your child has the potential to curse you for the next three years) she turned an actual corner. She became this sweet, polite, lovely, helpful, engaged, fun loving, gorgeous little girl, with more energy than an international nuclear power plant mind you. I feel like finally, after a year (we have been in Canada an entire year!) some of her anxieties are beginning to calm down. Maybe I need to relax into the knowledge that she will always go through really, really difficult phases and come out the other side a better person. But curse or no curse, I'm saying it; it is, as they have all said, officially, FINALLY getting better. Disclaimer: This does not mean I am any less exhausted. This means that I am as exhausted, with less episodes of having to suppress my desire to scream at everyone and punch walls. 

I have to pre-empt my next bit. Since I haven't been drinking, I've felt pretty good. I sleep better, I have lost a tiny bit of weight, I can regulate my emotions more effectively, I have more energy, and I certainly think and communicate with more clarity. I used to have two glasses of wine, at least, every night, get frustrated with Pickle, and then feel like I couldn't wait to finish brushing her teeth, reading her books and get her to sleep so that I could have another glass of wine. I would then sit on the sofa, exhausted, drink another glass of wine, not feel any better, and be angry with my husband for absolutely nothing. It really doesn't sound like a great evening routine does it? So why oh why did I do it? I clearly didn't actually like it, in fact, it just made me unhappy and angry! So since being sober, I have felt like I am a happier person. Isn't that what we are all striving for?

In the month of December, of which today is the second day, I had planned to be go a bit more easy on myself, and relax the reigns a little. I said to myself, "Self, if I want to have a drink, I'll have a drink. It's December. It's okay. You have earned it." So as I hurtled towards December the 1st, I got more and more excited about having a drink on December 1st. But at the same time, I was alarmed at how excited I was getting. What was I excited about? Being miserable and grumpy and exhausted again? Feeling guilty and sick every morning, wishing I had had just one less glass of wine last night? Again? Swearing to myself and promising myself that I wouldn't ever, ever drink again and then failing as soon as 5 pm swung around every single day? Sinking again into an unhealthy, poisonous, dangerous spiral of misery? I was alarmed that this was exciting me. 

It just so happens that my husband recently consistently had such high blood pressure that we went to emergency and he was at very high risk of having a heart attack, despite him being as fit and healthy as he could possibly be. The doctors put him immediately on blood pressure medication which has brought his readings down from dangerously high to normal within a matter of weeks. He is worried, however, that if he has a drink, he will faint, or at least feel so light headed that he may have to go back to emergency. I am seeing this as a blessing in disguise. We had planned to have a drink on December the 1st to welcome the month of Christmas. We were going to have Bailey's Irish Cream, and watch Elf on Netflix. He didn't want to drink because of his blood pressure. I had one tiny shot of Bailey's and didn't really like it, so I didn't have any more. Tonight, I bought a huge bottle of white wine, fully intending to have a few glasses. I haven't even cracked open the bottle, and I'm about to go to bed any minute. I have come to the realisation that I don't want to drink anymore. I'll have a drink maybe when we go out to dinner, or are at my parents, but I really don't want to whirlwind myself back into that cycle.

Update: I went to my parents this weekend and drank a lot of wine and felt absolutely awful. Both during and after. This week has been drink free since Sunday night. My preschooler has turned into a complete nightmare again who isn't sleeping. Up all night last night. She knows EXACTLY when I am the most tired and the most busy, and chooses those times to absolutely fuck me sideways. Argh. Preschoolers!

Thanks for reading x