11 days to go
Well folks, I have survived more than a week of no alcohol since last writing. My colleagues (whom I have known only a few weeks and who do not know all the details of why) are very proud of me. Drinking is so ingrained in our culture that even a virtual stranger can be amazed by someone abstaining.
It's gotten quite boring now. It's easy for me to do - which is a wonderful thing to learn - and still just a matter of remembering. Most evenings I have noted that "I want a fucking drink", but have otherwise simply quietly avoided having one. Friday night we went out for dinner, because I had to find a way of celebrating the beginning of the weekend that did not involve excessive (or any amount of) drinking. We strolled into Northbridge - taking advantage of our inner-city lifestyle - found a restaurant that we'd never eaten at, ordered food that we'd never tasted, and drank endless pots of Chinese tea before walking back home. It was a lovely way to spend an evening together.
I am enjoying so many things about not drinking. I am feeling healthier already, and coupled with our regular leafleting stints we actually desire a healthier diet. I also have more time on my hands - the weekend does not include a day (or two) written-off to a hangover, and my evenings are not sunk uselessly into wine and television. All combined, I have gained a burst of confidence unlike anything I can remember having ever had previously.
In this confident state I have taken on a new project at work - I volunteered to coordinate part of an event - and a new course of study. I am now working full-time, engaged and constantly busy in this work, plus studying externally. This confidence is leaking out into my entire attitude to life and most importantly, to myself.
I am also enjoying the hard-edge of my personality, which is an unexpected development. I don't need hard liquor to have a certain amount of anger within me, and without it being artificially enhanced I don't need to fear it - I can relish it.
Today I am pre-menstrual, and not enjoying my anger at all. It has morphed into that familiar state that swings between baseless irritability, and a desire to melt into a puddle of tears. So I must say, I would still fucking love a drink. :)