This time

I haven’t written in a while. I felt a bit trapped into inertia by the fact that a) I have been drinking and b) I wanted to write about infertility issues, but haven’t started a separate blog. I don’t really want to either, and yet I don’t want people to be bored by the infertility stuff, so I’m going to borrow an idea and title my infertility posts to mark them out as distinct from the sobriety ones.

I’ve started again – day two today – for numerous reasons. It’s not that I was drinking every night or anything, but when I did drink over the past couple of weeks, there was less and less enjoyment (any at all? I’m not sure), and more and more haziness in my brain generally.

I had an argument with Husband last week, which got to the root of a few issues which was good, but at the time, he basically said he misses going out drinking with me. I’m sort of blaming that for my stopping at 10 days again and having a drink, even though I thought it was unfair of him to say things like that, and I was trying to convince him of the benefits of me being sober. Anyway, as I said, I’ve been drinking on and off since then, and I’ve noticed a few things.

I don’t actually enjoy drinking wine. The idea of drinking is great, I mean, a friend of Mr Ws has said a similar thing; wouldn’t it be great if they all tasted like the first one? But they don’t. I was reading Belle’s first month of blog posts in bed this morning, and one of the comments went something like; I think I would like to stop drinking before I have three glasses. But by the time I actually reach the third glass, I’ve had two already, and so my brain can’t choose whether or not to have the third glass without being under the influence of the first two.

But when I actually drink, I can even feel a part of my brain going, ‘this is ridiculous, after the first one it’s not that great, I’m feeling fuzzy and useless and I need to stop’. But there’s this other part, the part that’s under the influence (Wolfie?) that steamrollers over everything else and says I should just keep going. And generally, I do.

As I said, it hasn’t been every night. I have stayed sober when I have Things To Do the next morning. But I don’t like the way that the compulsion to drink seems to be increasing. With no benefit at all when I do drink. As in, I can’t really work out why I’m having a drink whilst I’m drinking, it’s just for its own sake. And then the next day, and even in-between days sometimes, I feel sluggish, or start thinking about drinking far too much.

This time I need to find those sober supports again, and work out how I got myself to 400 days last September. I’ve emailed Belle to start Team 100 again, and I told my husband my intention, explaining why. He high fived me, so that’s a good start – I can count on him for support, rather than him telling me it’s OK just to have one.

Day two feels like such a tiny number, and 100 such a huge one. But it’s nice to be here 🙂

 

You may now turn over your exam paper

I won’t know what this feels like until tomorrow, about 1pm. I haven’t really revised very well, I feel I have been complacent with my sobriety. I haven’t done enough work.

And now the exam (wedding).

I am about as anxiety-ridden as it gets, but I can’t really do anything about it now. I just have to try and get a good night’s sleep tonight.

I just read something that said sobriety is pass/fail. This metaphor is actually starting to work in my favour because I used to like exams at school. I like exams, I am (was? am?) good at them. I generally (always, I think) pass. I can pass this one. I WILL pass this exam.

OK, hand me that clear pencil case, I’m going in…. 😀

crazy 88…what do I tell myself?

I’ve had a crazy day 88. Lots going on at work. Amongst other things, I had a small accident when a boiling tube (large test tube) of boiling ethanol bubbled over, and scalded me on the thumb (ow!) and caught fire on the bench. Oops. Thankfully nothing worse than a blister on my thumb was the result. And, mercifully, nobody was watching. How embarrassing would that have been?!

Is there a message in there somewhere? Alcohol is dangerous and volatile, and you can get your fingers burned if you misuse it…?

Maybe I need to think about that a bit more carefully, because in the last few days, I have really been wanting to drink wine. I know I’m not helping myself because I seem to drift along with no real plan. I mean, I have goals, ideas of what I’d like to achieve, but I’m not good at organising my time, especially in the evenings. And I drift and drift, staying up too late, leaving me with less energy for the next day and so it goes on.

Exactly my behaviour when I was drinking, but then I slept terribly. At least I sleep well now.

Whether it is the upcoming wedding that’s making me have these thoughts, I’m not sure. My mind seems to conjure up possible scenarios in which a drink would go very nicely. Situations which I think might occur in the future, and I hear myself say ‘Oh it’s OK, you wont miss out, you’ll probably be back on the wine by then’.

There is obviously still a part of my brain that is not convinced of this sober thing. Wolfie still has a voice, sometimes loud and clear. I worry that this is coinciding with the wedding, and I worry that I might not make it to the end of day 90.

Or at the very least, that day 90 will be a huge struggle. But I cannot give up with only ten days to go. ten days is nothing, but one day might cost me everything….

I feel a bit better for having written that. My husband has had a couple of glasses of white wine tonight, and we were both at the computer looking at something. I could smell the wine. If I think about that, and think about how the wine would feel in my mouth (horrible and vinegary), and how my body would feel after a few glasses (fuzzy head, thirsty, drowsy), the appeal does lessen.

Please leave, Wolfie. You’re not welcome here.

I am happy to be sober. Happy to be me. I would not be me if I drank. Wolfie would drown me. I must tell myself, over and over and over.

Why I quit drinking

My husband and I received our wedding photobook yesterday. We showed it to a few people today – it is really beautiful, the day was beautiful. I am starting to feel more relaxed about it…

About an hour ago I was reading around the blogs, and I saw a post which reminded me, together with the wedding album, that there was a reason why I stopped drinking – I had hit a ‘bottom’ of sorts.

I need to explain a bit. My husband has two daughters from his previous marriage. They aren’t really in contact with him (it’s just a coincidence that they live on our road so we see them occasionally in passing. Odd, I know). Let’s just say that for him and me, well if we do nothing, we will be unable to have children. If we do something, we may slightly improve our chances. I am 35, and for the last 5 years, my body has been telling me I want kids, and my heart has been telling me about all sorts of bridge-crossing in the future, miracles happening etc.

By the time of the wedding (June 7th), I had been drinking a fair bit. I’d done dry January and felt good, then gone back to the wine and it didn’t take long before I was drinking a couple of glasses on the odd weeknight etc etc, until it was pretty much every night, more at the weekends. And there were social things going on the closer the big day got. The best man’s wife, and one of my bridesmaids (my best friend) were both pregnant. On the day, the BMs wife was only about two weeks off her due date. I was dealing with it (sort of) because it was such a full on day.

Until right near the end of the night. I’d had a fair amount of wine and champagne by this time. But luckily I don’t think there were many people around. I’m embarrassed and ashamed to say that a song came on (which I hadn’t put on our playlist, because I think it was written about a child), and I fell to pieces. I stood in the middle of the venue, and sobbed. Real, body shaking, desperate sobs that seemed to come up from the ground itself. The best man found me and asked what was wrong but I couldn’t tell him. I felt so much fear and sorrow that I may never be able to experience what his wife and my best friend were experiencing. I may never be a mother. The BM’s pregnant wife found my husband who took me outside to comfort me.

But for the most part, my husband didn’t understand and couldn’t cope with all my feelings. When we came back from honeymoon and the baby was born I couldn’t deal with it. I felt alone (couldn’t really talk to my pregnant best friend about it) and afraid, sad and the absolute worst, jealous. Plus ashamed, for feeling jealous.

I thought we wouldn’t survive. I worried that our marriage would be over practically before it had begun. We went to a party at the couple’s home. She said I could hold the baby, and I said oh no, thank you. I drank too much. Why wouldn’t a couple of the women meet my eyes when I was trying to blink back tears and be normal? Worried what everyone thought of me the next day.

A couple of days later I realised that was it. I had to do something. I was staring depression in the eyes and to stop it’s attack and hopefully get my husband to listen to my hopes and fears properly, I had to stop drinking. I managed 10 days, and then had a fuck it moment one night and opened one of the bottles the teachers had given me at the end of term. I knew I ought to have given them away at the time…

So 5 days later I stopped lurking around Belle’s blog, and asked to be signed up for 100 days. I needed some accountability. And I’ve felt good. I’ve started seeing a counsellor – not sure for how long I can afford to go though. And I’ve mainly kept myself in a lovely safe sober bubble.

Then I saw that other blog post and remembered it all again, and the wedding album made me think of it too. How could I not have noticed that gaping wound?

My pregnant friend hasn’t been in touch for a while – I don’t know why it has gone quiet but I’m not complaining. And I’m ashamed of that. What if she needs me? She is my oldest friend but I can’t handle it. I’m not there yet. And what will happen when she has the baby?

Time might be running out to deal with this… but I’m not ready. I still have such a long way to go. In sobriety, too – I’m only on day 48. That’s not even half way to 100.

Some good things though – I am no longer afraid for my marriage. My husband has seen how hard it is for me sometimes (the party last Sunday), and he knows I am doing the best I can to deal with this (quitting the wine, getting counselling).

I feel a bit less alone. I think there is help out there if I need it. We will try something. It might work, it might not. I’m sober.