Friday night feels absolutely fine. The fire is roaring, I am curled up under a blanket with a cup of tea and it’s fine… actually it’s bloody lovely. Two months ago at this time of night on a friday I would be three glasses in now with at least another two or three to go before dragging myself up to bed. I feel relaxed and thankful that tomorrow I will wake up with a clear head and ready for a full day.
I am still having moments of questioning why I am doing this and there’s still times when I think something vaguely along the lines of ‘it’s not fair that everyone else can have a glass of wine and I can’t’ but then I realise that of course I can have a glass of wine if I want to … but I don’t want to … I really don’t. I am getting better at reminding myself of the reality instead of romanticising that glass of wine. I am becoming accustomed to realigning thoughts pretty damn quickly. Tonight we watched a film where they were sat around drinking a bottle of red, laughing and joking, talking and eating and it’s a wonderful evening for all involved and they crack open another bottle. For a second I felt a pang of annoyance that I have committed to this damn sobriety thing when actually it’s so ‘normal’ to just sit around drinking. But whilst in a dry january type scenario I would have felt deprived I am now trying to push those thoughts further and assess why I feel that it’s the wine that’s the centre of this scenario when it isn’t.
Other people’s reactions to my decision to quit the booze have been interesting. I have had people smile and shrug and say ‘that’s great, you have to do what makes you feel happy’ and I have also had someone say ‘no you bloody aren’t stopping drinking, I won’t let you’. I felt a distinct sense of disappointment from my husband that I wasn’t going to be his weekend drinking buddy. As it turns out he has barely touched a drop since I announced my decision. He did however ask if I was going to at least drink on our summer holiday this year .. ‘we’ll see’ I said and inside I was thinking ‘I really hope not’. One friend who is a big drinker said ‘that’s really great but I just couldn’t do it because I really, really like a drink although I wish I didn’t so much’.
My whole outlook on drinking has changed. A parenting help book advised me on chapter one to ‘pour a stiff drink’ in order to prepare myself to write a list of behavioural issues my child has that may need addressing. Thankfully he doesn’t have many and thankfully he no longer has a mother who needs to pour herself a drink in order to write a list just because some jackass advised it. I have avoided counting days so far because it didn’t seem right somehow but tonight I worked out that it is 32 days today. I feel uncomfortable with putting a number on it, as if I am counting up towards something that will change whereas actually I just want things to stay as they are right now, I feel confident of the future, relaxed, proud and relieved that I somehow ended up on this path rather than continuing as I was.