20 days to go
Nearly a week since a drink, which is the longest time in... well, I would think at least since I was 21. I certainly can't think of a time since I moved to London that I have not at least had a good few drinks on the weekend.
And it's going super-fine. I'm encouraged that my body wasn't as addicted as my lifestyle, and the lifestyle change has really not been that hard. The trickiest bit is simply remembering not to have a drink.
Wednesday night I got home from work and thought "balls, I can't have a drink". Normally unwinding from work = a glass of wine. So I was at a bit of a loss as to how to relax. It wasn't a great night for me anyway as hubby had to go away, which I never enjoy at the best of times. But I did some tidying (I LOVE tidying... although I hate cleaning), and lit some incense and had some tea. It felt quite ridiculous, boiling the kettle when what I bloody wanted was a glass of wine, but I'd made a plan and I was sticking to it. So I got through and managed to get to sleep without my usual depressant.
Thursday was easier, although I felt a bit flu-ey which I am taking to be a mild form of withdrawal. In the evening hubby joined me in sobriety. I have told him repeatedly that he does not have to, but his body and mind could certainly benefit also, and he has decided to try to go the whole time along with me. What a wonderful person I am married to. :) Thursday evening was great as some of our favourite tv was on, and we giggled ourselves silly! It was wonderful to be so crazily happy without the aid of any drugs what-so-ever.
Friday I thought would be difficult, but just wasn't! Although again it was harder to unwind without chemical means. Friends popped round, with bubbly for themselves and some yummy Maggie Beer non-alcholic sparkling rose for me. We ate cheese and chatted and had as good a time as ever without hubby or I drinking any liquor. Being a foodie is certainly helping to make the lack of drink less of a burden. I made it clear that my friends could drink, and also that I haven't given up on enjoying the occasional drunken times forever. After they left hubby even suggested we go for a walk - we had some leafleting to do - so we even made productive use of our Friday night and got in some exercise... now there's a rarity!
Saturday was hubby and I home as is often the case, enjoying a scrummy dinner and watching dvds, just without the alcohol. Perhaps it wasn't the most exciting Saturday night-in we've ever had, but we have both just needed to catch up on sleep and re-learn to relax naturally. And I've realised that the television saps my time and energy and usefulness far more than drink does. I think some sort of ruling on maximum television times would be just as good for my life as this break from drink.
Today I am cleaning and tidying and generally beautifying my home. I have energy and time to do it and I'm just feeling great. In fact today, I can't think why I would want to drink. I think the biggest test will come when I actually do try a drink again. But the next few weeks will help to tell.
So in the end it's a bit of a boring tale. But then good news often is. :) But before I go, let me share a dream I had the other night. A dream that suggests perhaps my subconscious struggle is a little more difficult than my conscious one.
I was out with hubby somewhere, in the sort of strange yet eerily familiar place that is often the haunt of the sleeping self. We were offered wine to taste, and decided that as we were at a wine tasting, we had better break our fast briefly and take a few sips. After all, it wasn't enough for us to even feel that we had had alcohol. It seemed to go okay, and we moved on to a lunch with many strangers, people who seemed to be interested in us, desirous of our company, but not too deeply concerned with our welfare. We ate a buffet which was glorious, for a while food was our only concern. I remember vividly a huge bowl of chicken with some form of fuzzy green beans in a spicy sauce being presented to us after we thought we were already full. Then suddenly the demon liquor reared its ugly head. For some reason we thought to question the varied elixirs we had been consuming, and discovered that they were not, as we had thought, cordials and other new flavoursome treats - they were alcoholic. Indeed, many of the glasses in front of me were half-filled with red wine. A dangerous woman with dark hair told me that I had already had more than everyone else at the table, that I had broken my sobriety, so I may as well continue. But I told her that no, I would not drink anymore. I pushed the glasses in front of me out of reach and pulled away from her and them.
I awoke to a wonderful sense of relief that I had not let myself down, that it was only a dream, and that although alcohol was clearly on my mind, it had not passed my lips.