Snow-ber boarding

As I write this, I have not had a drink in 67 days. That's not true. I had two glasses of red wine two weeks ago one night, to see if I liked it. I did not. So we won't count those two glasses of wine. It was an experiment and it failed. So, apart from those wines, I have not drunk a drop of alcohol in over two months. This is monumental for me. The only time I've managed that in the past 25 years is when I was pregnant. And even then I probably had a few glasses of wine in my third trimester.

Two or more months ago, I would never have thought this was a possibility for me. I was drinking myself deeper and deeper into a hole of misery. It sounds dramatic but it really was like that. When I drank, I would get depressed and sluggish and irritable, and the light would go out in my heart. Imagine having to live with someone like that. 

I would drink about 2-3 glasses every single night, and on the weekends I would drink way way more, even to the point where I would lose count of drinks consumed intentionally, telling myself "I deserve it". I was right, I do deserve something nice to finish the week, to reward myself for getting through the intensity of raising a highly spirited 5 year old who demands my full attention 99 % of the time, and a husband who also demands the same amount of my attention the same amount of the time, all the while running my own business which requires a huge amount of concentration, planning and energy, and somehow managing to make lunches, read bedtime stories, and keep the house relatively tidy. I had definitely earned something that would give me a little inward skip of delight when I thought of it halfway through the day ("I can have a glass of cold white wine when I get home!) that gave me a rush of warmth and well being halfway through the first one. 

But that wasn't happening anymore. When I had a drink, I would drink it fast, so that I could quickly get onto the next one, so that by the time our family was sitting down to dinner, I was feeling a glow that only lasted for a few minutes, which would prompt me to rapidly move onto the next one, but by this time I felt guilty and exhausted. After dinner I would have my third glass, just to chase that high, to continue the addictive but false sense of joy, but because I'd eaten, it never felt as good as I'd hoped. From there, trying to find any kind of energy to read to, bath, and have fun with my little one would be almost impossible. Bath time was inevitably spent with my head in my hands, praying for it to be over, getting irritated, unable to regulate my emotions. 

I read and listen to a lot of "quit lit" where the authors talk about life before they quit drinking, which  involves going out with their friends every weekend, even during parenthood, getting smashed at a club, coming home and waking up in the morning unable to take care of their kids. I used to do this, as every teenager and 20/30 something does, but after I became a parent this was never a part of my life. I would just drink at home, as I am perpetually too tired to go out anywhere or to socialise with anyone other than the mums I meet through playdates, my husband, and my parents. Night is for staying home.

However, I still consider myself a heavy drinker, and I realise now that I have an unhealthy relationship with alcohol. I have taken numerous online "Am I an alcoholic" tests, almost keen for the result to be "You are a serious alcoholic and need to stop RIGHT NOW or you'll DIE" but they almost all inform me that I "may have developed" a "moderate alcohol use disorder" and that I should probably talk to my GP about it. The fact is, my body and my brain were both screaming at me to stop, and that's really much more significant than any online quiz. 

By continuing to drink, I was (I realise now) at risk of sacrificing my relationship with my husband, my precious little girl, and my health. I would wake up almost every morning with a screaming headache, having slept poorly or not at all, having taken headache and backache pills, and during the day I would have little to no energy, to live, to work, to laugh, and I would try and navigate the week tiptoeing around high levels of anxiety and depression. This is not living. 

I would look forward to events because I knew there would be alcohol involved, and yet when I was two glasses in, I would start feeling irritable, uneasy, exhausted and upset. It was a weird way to exist and I am shocked I didn't wake up to this sooner.

Since I have quit drinking, in only TWO MONTHS, I have lost a huge amount of weight around my tummy, without doing a thing except eliminating alcohol. I have less headaches than before - I still suffer with daily headaches but absolutely nothing like they used to be. I can taste better than I did before (weird right) and I laugh a LOT more. I still get really irritable around my period and my poor husband has to deal with my frosty rudeness for a week or so, but the rest of the month I am so much happier, so much softer, so much more relaxed. Alcohol was dictating my personality when I wasn't drinking, and this is something that you don't really find out about until it gets hold of you and you're trapped.

In 2023 in Canada, only 19% of Canadians were deemed "heavy drinkers" and only 4.2% were expected to be full blown alcoholics. In the UK, 6% were drinking at high risk or possible dependent levels. So, the entire world isn't dependent on alcohol, which means that a small percentage of us have to really watch it. I have met a few people in my adult life who say "I don't drink" or "I can't drink" and I've always been so envious of those people. One or two of those people just decided one day that they don't want it anymore for various innocuous reasons, and some are genuinely addicted to alcohol and have told me that. Some people say "I can't have more than one drink, I'll have such a bad head tomorrow!" and I'm also envious of those people. I wish my body would reject alcohol, or stop my brain from that almost maniacal desire to push through any pains or discomfort to have. the. next. drink. 

But for the most part, people seem like they don't need it. I needed it. I still need it. I do not trust myself to drink because of the desperate thirst I feel for it (pun intended). This is a good move for me. I want to continue feeling this way. I want to continue healing my body and living my best life. 

One thing I have found during my short two month sobriety is that I no longer get that little rush of excitement that I used to during the day when I thought about drinking that night. That alone gave me a lightness in my step, a reason to keep going, a way (I thought) to get to the end of the day. It gave me what I thought of as energy, life, (pah!) something to look forward to. I no longer have that in my life, and so, right now, this is what I am searching for. I believe it's really important, as I continue along this path, to find something that is just for me, that I love to do, and that gives me a frisson of joy when I think of it, and that I can work towards, in place of drinking a glass or two of wine at the end of the day. This is what I hope to find.

"I tried to stop drinking once. It was the worst morning of my life" 

Thanks for reading x