Scrambling Back Up The Slippery Slope

A Journey Towards Stopping Drinking

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I wonder how much of this is about managing other people’s expectations.

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Day 7a

Okay, I’m going to write about it.

I had planned, as I said, that yesterday evening I could have a drink. My Dad and I were going to my favourite restaurant for his birthday. I planned that I would have two small glasses of red wine and a martini. I didn’t get my martini and I did drink more than that.

It was a relief. A massive relief. To stop fighting for a sec. I don’t know yet if that means the fight is going to get harder or be harder than it would otherwise have been. Mostly I’m not ashamed. There is one thing I’m a little bit ashamed of but I don’t want to write it.

I didn’t go crazy, I didn’t drink enough to stop me sleeping well and I feel normal this morning, but I know that if I was to go for a run, I wouldn’t run as well. I hadn’t planned to, but usually I do, on a Saturday. I haven’t yet had a no-alcohol Friday. I’m not sure I’ve had a no-alcohol Friday since I was 17, but maybe I have. I’m confident I haven’t since I was 21.

I do want to stop drinking completely in the end. I do want to be free. I’m not sure I’m ready. But I definitely want to be going down the right path in the right direction.

So things to remember:

I’d rather run well or enjoy a yoga class the next day than drink.

I’d rather have a shiny pink liver than drink. I’m looking forward to doing two solid weeks.

I’d rather be confident I was good company than drink.

I’m looking forward to having more energy at work next week.

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Broke it.

It’s okay.

I’ll write more tomorrow. For now, I’ve decided that I’m proud of those six days and I don’t want to just discount them and start again on Day 1. I’ve decided that every day I drink, planned or not, will be another letter of the alphabet. So tomorrow, assuming there’s no drink taken, will be 7a.

I did realise that it was a bit daft of me to think that my executive function would magically improve. As though, when I was 5 and my mum first started to wonder about me, she thought, “Yes, is it ADHD…or is it the jar?”

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I used to like my own company but ever since my mum died I’ve felt lonely when I’m on my own.

One of the reasons I held fast last night was because I knew tonight would be harder and I wanted to be able to keep a cheat night for tonight, rather than a two day break - or 3 day, as I’m taking my Dad out for his birthday tomorrow.

I’d decided that I’d get home, have something to eat and an alcohol-free beer before I decided. I did, and then I poured out a glass of gin, the last from the last bottle. I sniffed it a few times. I dipped my finger and sucked it. I went to take a sip and didn’t. I was scared.

I was scared in the way I used to really restrict what I was eating because I was so scared of getting fat. I don’t do that any more, although occasionally I do rue that level of control. But I’m certainly a moderate eater.

I’ve often thought about my drinking in relation to someone eating a whole chocolate bar. I’m aghast when people do that. Some of them would presumably be aghast by me polishing off a bottle of wine.

I’m not sure how I feel about being scared.

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I’m so at war with myself.

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I just dipped my finger into a glass of gin and licked it.

I don’t know.

I don’t know.

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Day 6

I knew that I most likely wasn’t going to have an amazing bloom into new womanhood sans alcohol, as I’ve read others have. I tend to sleep well, I’m obsessive about hydration and I seem to metabolise alcohol well enough that I’ve never really got hangovers. The Irish tend to, I believe, and that’s what makes alcohol addiction so accessible to us.

But I was expecting to maybe regulate my emotions better. I didn’t. I blew up twice in one day. And then my period started.

Periods feel just as crap without alcohol. Worse, possibly, because I’m lower on calories.

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My mood is swinging and it makes it hard. It’s a bit like being in pain that ebbs and flows. I feel super anxious for a while and it’s horrible. Then I feel calm and like things are okay and that’s okay and I feel like I’m through it. Then it swings right back round to anxious and it’s hard again. It’s a bit exhausting. It’s not forever.

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It’s all been a bit too hard and come a bit unstitched. I didn’t mean to start this early. I feel really stupid and pathetic that it’s this hard.

I’m stupidly anxious. Being anxious has ruined visiting my parents for a while before my mum died and I’m really sad about that. I did have a little bit of reason, however, although not enough to come anywhere close to how anxious I got. I don’t really have any reason this evening though. Well, I do, but not for the things I’m anxious about.

Maybe I need to stop giving myself permission to drink if I really want to. Maybe it makes it harder to pull myself back.

I need to remember a thing that was very important to me at the beginning of this: Obsessing about alcohol is natural, inevitable and what everyone in my situation does. It won’t last forever. It will last longer if you choose to stay trapped rather than seek full freedom.

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I am currently in the pursuit of wholesome pursuits. I’ve bought some jigsaws and enjoyed them, and really enjoyed my sober jigsaw with my family the other day. That was really lovely. I’m trying to cook the things I usually buy - although while I’m a pretty fair cook, I’m not a natural or experienced baker and I don’t think I’m really saving any money. I’ll pick up my embroidery back in London. And I’m reading, of course.

I’m reading I Capture the Castle as the wholesomest of wholesome books. But there are a fair few mentions of alcohol in it. And then, three-quarters way through, the 17 year old protagonist knocks on the door of a pub and asks for a glass of Port. But the innkeeper says she can’t buy one because it’s before midday, so she’ll give her one. Then, on the dot of midday, she has a cherry brandy.

I mean, we all do daft stuff when we’re 17 that leads absolutely nowhere. I doubt there’s a thirty-something in the world necking the cherry brandy before the sun is over the yard arm. But this does seem like slightly mad behaviour for no one to turn a hair at. What else was no one turning a hair at?

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Day 5

Day 5

Day 5

It’s still Day 5.

I’m…not proud exactly. I’m in a strange headspace about it. But the fact that it’s still Day 5 is undeniably significant because I gave myself permission to drink - twice - and I didn’t. It’s significant.

The gin is still on my bedside table. In the very recent past, if I’d fallen asleep without drinking it, I might drink it now (this kind of thing did only start happening since my mum died. Immediately after her death, I gave myself permission to behave badly and some boundaries were broken.)

It feels like a commitment.

My dad knocked on my door to apologise this morning, which he never does. So.

Love my Dad.

Money saved: my drink from my round yesterday- a tenner.

Good things:

I know that my side of the argument last night wasn’t because I’d been drinking.

I had one bad night but then slept really well last night to make up for it because I wasn’t exacerbating the cycle.

I feel like my wholesome pursuits aren’t a lie.

The pride will flood in.

These are hard hurdles. Most hurdles will be easier.

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I had an argument with my dad. I did think that not drinking might improve this. Oh well. It’s interesting how many things that I put down to alcohol are still hanging around. Maybe they’re actually just me. Maybe they’re habit. Maybe it takes a while for things to get out of my system.

It was one of our horrible arguments. I think it was affected by him having been drinking (not to excess, but you know.)

I poured a glass of wine, but I didn’t drink it. I didn’t want it. I told myself I could have some gin later and then I poured that. About an hour ago. I didn’t drink it. I haven’t drunk it yet. I haven’t tipped it away.

We’ll see.

I keep thinking about how I was really happy to picture my liver gradually replacing itself and becoming all healthy and pink.

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We've gone to the pub again. I feel like I've signed up for some high intensity endurance challenge. This is ridiculous. Why have we left the house where there is plenty of alcohol for my dad and plenty of distraction for me to pay pub prices for alcohol where there are no distractions for me.

I miss my mum.

I miss gin. And wine.

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Day 4

Wobbled yesterday. Anxiety creeping in, but no more than my usual anxiety. I’ll feel better when K’s back in London - when neither of us are there, I always have a niggling worry that the house will burn down or something.

Also for the first time couldn’t sleep last night. But I imagine that won’t happen when I’m back in my work-running-yoga routine. I didn’t mean to give up this early and this is why. Oh well.

Money saved: the difference in my drink from my round yesterday - £6 or so.

Good things:

Got through the first wobble.

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It’s been a beautiful sunny evening and I’ve been missing my mum so much. We’d all be outside til late, talking and laughing together. I think the jigsaw has been a really important distraction. Daddy and I tried to find another one but we couldn’t and I couldn’t buy one because it’s a bank holiday Monday. I’ve ordered two for tomorrow.

I was missing my mum so much and I do think you’re allowed a crutch when your mum dies so I decided that if I really needed a break from the grief, I could have one and start again at Day 1 tomorrow BUT:

First, I need to have something to eat.

Second, I’m going to have a bath with a cold drink.

Third, I’m going to snuggle up in bed, put on Poirot and think really hard about how proud I’ve felt and whether I do want to start again from Day 1.

So. We’ll see.

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Done all that. I think I’m okay.

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When I was in the bath, I remembered how much I loved having long baths with long cold glasses of water when I was a teenager. That’s what I really wanted right then. Now I want to finish reading I Capture the Castle and feel as cosy as that book always makes me feel. With moisturiser on, rehydrating.

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It’s been a beautiful sunny evening and I’ve been missing my mum so much. We’d all be outside til late, talking and laughing together. I think the jigsaw has been a really important distraction. Daddy and I tried to find another one but we couldn’t and I couldn’t buy one because it’s a bank holiday Monday. I’ve ordered two for tomorrow.

I was missing my mum so much and I do think you’re allowed a crutch when your mum dies so I decided that if I really needed a break from the grief, I could have one and start again at Day 1 tomorrow BUT:

First, I need to have something to eat.

Second, I’m going to have a bath with a cold drink.

Third, I’m going to snuggle up in bed, put on Poirot and think really hard about how proud I’ve felt and whether I do want to start again from Day 1.

So. We’ll see.

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Done all that. I think I’m okay.

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It’s been a beautiful sunny evening and I’ve been missing my mum so much. We’d all be outside til late, talking and laughing together. I think the jigsaw has been a really important distraction. Daddy and I tried to find another one but we couldn’t and I couldn’t buy one because it’s a bank holiday Monday. I’ve ordered two for tomorrow.

I was missing my mum so much and I do think you’re allowed a crutch when your mum dies so I decided that if I really needed a break from the grief, I could have one and start again at Day 1 tomorrow BUT:

First, I need to have something to eat.

Second, I’m going to have a bath with a cold drink.

Third, I’m going to snuggle up in bed, put on Poirot and think really hard about how proud I’ve felt and whether I do want to start again from Day 1.

So. We’ll see.