This is a post of mine from 2017.
I could have my camper van by now. Instead, I chose wine.
It’s really time to try something different.
But it bloody well is.
I’ve HAD ENOUGH. I am furious with myself for continuing to throw something down my neck that is a) bad for me; b) insidious; c) mind altering; d) life changing; e) disgusting – taste and smell wise.
I’m not being dramatic and all “hungover and full of resolve”. I’m not even hungover. I’m just annoyed with myself. I’m also a bit worried that I’m giving myself early onset alcohol-induced dementia (there goes the drama again, but it is possible isn’t it). I have constant brain fog and forget things a lot of the time. I’m also arguing with myself a lot. I went to B & M yesterday and hovered around their cheap spirits shelf for an age, trying to pick between Southern Comfort, Vodka or their own brand of rancid schnapps/drain cleaner. I did my own head in so much that I ended up stropping off and buying none of it. If anybody witnessed this they simply must have thought I was on day release.
I don’t want to act as though I’m on day release. I don’t want to FEEL as though I should bloody well be on day release.
Aside from all of the obvious health risks and catastrophic personality changes that it causes, what a COMPLETE WASTE OF MONEY alcohol is! I don’t know why I’ve thought about the money side so much this morning, but I think it’s because my partner and I are talking about buying a camper van, and figured out that if we just laid off the booze for a few months we’d have enough money to buy one. Granted, it would be a heap of shit one, but that’s what we want.
So what would I like? A constant state of being under par/semi comatose, and suffering with severe anxiety, or a camper van?
Every drink I have had this week I have approached with trepidation, dread and complete shame. I literally have not benefitted in any way from drinking. I drink as quickly as possible to “numb out” and “escape”, although I have no idea what from. I also often believe that doing something as basic as watching a film is not enjoyable unless I’m drinking. Even as I write that I know how pathetic it sounds. I have had periods of sobriety before that I have really enjoyed. Each time, the idea of being “bored/boring” lures me back into drinking.
Moderation is not for me. I’m not a “normal” drinker (whatever the hell one of those is). The idea of slowly sipping one glass of anything over a couple of hours is ludicrous to me. If I wanted to do that I’d have a milkshake. The minute alcohol touches my lips I have to shove as much of it as possible into me. How hideous. I have no interest in a “nice wine with a meal”. I would rather skip the meal and get hammered. I buy the cheapest wine with the “biggest poke”. Urgh. Sometimes I reach a point where I can happily and easily stop. But usually only for a couple of days. After day 2, when I start to feel better, I start wanting to “celebrate” feeling better by drinking. WTF? The speed at which my body recovers from a hangover doesn’t help (not that I’m complaining). I start to feel better after one day without booze, and then the cycle starts again.
There have been heartbreaking, excruciatingly painful things that have happened in my life due mainly to alcohol. Why on earth would I want to continue to perpetuate the horrendous effects? Why on earth do I want to spend my time getting half cut (at best lately – another dangerous sign of increasing tolerance)? I’m 34 years old, in relative good health (only as in I have no known health conditions – but I’m physically unfit, basically obese and a total lush so I guess not that good health), and I want to LIVE. I remember reading something on one of the blogs about the fear of “a life half lived”. I don’t recall who wrote it but it stayed with me. I reckon I’m living at less than 50% of my potential at the moment. How dare I do that.
I can’t say forever. The fear created by that simple word would have me reaching for the booze. But I am going to try to at least reach my birthday. I want to promise myself that I will not have another drink aged 34. I understand that that means I’m likely to “look forward” to my birthday (in 85 days time) and that drinking on the day will be almost a given. However, I’m hoping that by that point something will have switched in my warped, wine soaked brain that means I’ll be “able” to continue with sobriety.
For the minute, at least, alcohol can seriously FRO.