Tag Archives: Wine

Leftovers – Part 2

Thanks for all your comments on my last post. That’s one thing I love about the sober blogosphere – you ask one question … you get 40 answers.

I got rid of the wine. As many of you pointed out, the fact that I’d written an entire post about it was proof that it was bothering me in some way. Your responses made me think about the importance of boundaries and how they vary from person to person. What feels right to me might feel wrong to you. And if – like me – you cleared the house of alcohol before you stopped drinking then you’re bound to feel differently to someone who happily left half a bottle of wine in the fridge.

In a way, I felt annoyed that I was letting this one, pathetic bottle of wine play on my mind so much. I feel so happy and confident in my sobriety that I had no intention of drinking it. And yet … it was kind of troubling me. It didn’t feel right having it in the house. In the end I took it with me to a party and it got drunk pretty quickly.

I haven’t got much other news, but life feels really hectic at the moment, almost uncomfortably so. I’m working lots, drinking too much coffee and not getting enough sleep or exercise. I’ve been away the past couple of weekends. There’s very little food in the fridge, my flat is a tip and there are piles of stuff everywhere. I don’t feel on top of things. Written down it doesn’t sound like very much, but this kind of life-craziness led to me black out drinking in the past. That was my response to stress. When the going got tough, I pulled the shutters down and mentally checked out for a while.

When I first stopped drinking I wondered how I’d manage without that escape; that ability to completely leave your conscious self and the rest of the world for a while. One of the biggest surprises about sobriety is that I actually like having to be more present. A weekend spent tidying up, cooking and paying bills might not sound crazy and fun, but at least I’m getting things done. The reality of my drinking was hardly glitz and glamour; more often than not it involved waking up at 3am on the sofa, face down in a glass of wine. And when I think of the hours spent hungover, wasted in front of daytime TV … well, I wonder how I ever got anything done back then.

So that’s why I’m quite looking forward to a ‘boring’ weekend at home. Sure, there’ll still be a bit of escapism, but it’ll come in the form of catching up on The Great British Bake Off, going for a run and getting my nails done. And that’s fine by me.

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Thinking about wine

This week I’ve had wine on the brain.      

I’m not actually craving it. I just keep thinking about it. A lot. It’s as if I’m running along a narrow path, feeling good because I’m happy and still sober, but every now and then a big fat wine thought blocks the way. I have to jump over it, or kick it out the way to carry on going.

When I pause to think about each wine related thought logically, I realise I don’t want or need a drink. I think about all the things I learnt at the alcohol seminar last week and I remind myself that alcohol has NO benefits.

But still these thoughts keep popping into my head, sent there by some well-trained muscle. Maybe part of my brain is a few weeks behind the rest of it. Long, stressful day at work? Brain: Pick up some white wine on the way home. That’ll be nice. Me: I’m not drinking any more. Brain: Oh yeah. Forgot about that. 

I was watching EastEnders the other day (shouldn’t really admit to watching such rubbish) and Sharon and Tanya were having a proper heart to heart over a bottle of wine. Instantly I felt a twinge and my first thought was: Oh poor me, I’ll never be able to do that again. The days of gossiping with my friends are over.

When I put my logical hat back on I can see that this is not true. I like catching up with my friends because I like them. They like me. We are interested in each others lives. That won’t change. It’s just my twisted, pickled brain that thinks taking away the wine takes away everything, like it’s some kind of magic ingredient.     

Constantly working through all of these thoughts and emotions is hard work. (Yeah I know, first world problems). Actually, just thinking is quite hard work, because when you drink you don’t have to bother with thinking all that much. Maybe I’m just out of the habit. Maybe I just need to keep ploughing on.