Channel the Iguana

Last year I wrote a post called The Obstacle Course which has been shared and recommended more than anything else I've written. In it I described what quitting booze feels like, and why you really, really don't want to keep doing the early days over and over again.

(To read the Obstacle Course click here).

Well, last week I was watching David Attenborough's incredible Planet Earth 2 with the children and I came across a scene which reminded me vividly of those initial days wrestling with the obstacle course.

So, if you're at that horrible stage when you're sitting on your hands and grinding your teeth every evening at wine o'clock, and you can't believe that life is ever going to feel good ever again, then please watch this clip, it'll really help.

David Attenborough films a volcanic island where hardly anything lives except a lot of iguanas and even more snakes. These are no ordinary snakes - they are called 'racer snakes' and they live up to their name.

Pretty much the sole diet of the racer snakes is iguana.

The adult iguanas lay their eggs away from the shoreline to protect them from the waves, but this means that the very first thing a newly hatched baby iguana has to do is to make it across the beach to the shoreline where the mummies and daddies are hanging out.

The racer snakes know this, and they hide in the rocks just waiting for a tender young iguana to run by, at which point it's dinner time.

This clip shows a heroic baby iguana - his first day on the planet. He knows instinctively that there is danger around him, and initially he stays very still, hoping that an approaching snake won't see him (this is the denial stage, remember that one?).

Eventually he realises that he has to run, or he's toast.

As he charges towards the shore he's chased by loads of snakes - at one point they are literally coiled around his body - but each time he escapes with amazing determination, courage and death defying leaps.

Finally, he makes it to safety.

So, next time you're wrestling with the racer snakes, channel your inner iguana. You can do it. You can make it to the shore. You will find peace.

(To watch the clip, click here)

Love SM x

Swearing, and Other Tips

I've woken up this morning feeling positive about my ultrasound at the breast clinic today.

Only a few more hours to go, and - after days of feeling increasingly stressed - it'll all be over. Then, next time it won't be so hard.

I've been reminded, yet again, that dealing with anxiety is just like dealing with cravings.

(The feeling is very similar too - a squirming knot in the stomach, constant restlessness and a one tracked mind that won't shut up).

So, I thought I'd share four things that helped me yesterday, as - if you're duelling with the wine witch right now - they might help you too.

1. The Soberverse

The soberverse really is the most amazing place. All your comments on yesterday's post, and your e-mails, meant so much, and really reminded me that I am not alone.

And it can do the same for all of you, too, because you really are not alone.

2. Swearing

If you've been reading my blog for a while, you'll probably have realised that I'm not a big swearer. I'm fond of an occasional bollocks! Partial to a bugger! And occasionally employ a s**t, but, that's about it.

Generally, I think swearing is just a bit lazy and unimaginative. I try to encourage the children to find much more interesting invectives if they're stressed. (Apart from anything else, it's great for the vocabulary).

So, #3 might drop something on her foot and say "Aarrrggghh! Dastardly, pox ridden camel's buttocks!"

You see? Much more fun.

I think this aversion to swearing comes from my childhood. I remember vividly the one occasion when my Dad told my Mum to "f**k off." She left the house, and didn't come back for TWO DAYS. As my Dad couldn't even boil an egg, it was a disaster. None of us ever swore again.

Anyhow, back to the point: Yesterday Soberat53 and Claireperth both said "Fuck cancer!" And I thought, well yes, why the hell not?

So, I went up to my bathroom, locked the door (the children were downstairs) and shouted FUCK FUCK FUCKEDY FUCK FUCK! FUCK RIGHT OFF AND DON'T FUCKING COME BACK, FUCKER.

And, you know what? I felt much, much better.

So, next time the wine witch is bugging you, tell her to eff off. Really loudly. And with foot stamping and fist waving.

3. Eddie the Eagle

If you need some distraction then take the children (or just go by yourself!) to see the Eddie the Eagle film.

It's hysterically funny, plus it's a great tale about tenacity, bravery, and proving the world wrong (see the relevance?).

And the best bit?

Eddie doesn't drink! He managed to jump a 90 metre ski jump, with less than a year's training and the whole world laughing at him, without anything at all to 'take the edge off.'

There's a wonderful scene (that will do more for us sober people than endless government warnings and guidelines) where Eddie goes into a bar and is jeered at by the Finnish ski jump team, in their ridiculous skin tight all in one lurid lycras.

He goes up to the barman and orders....a glass of milk. Genius.

4. Finding something else to worry about

Sometimes, the only thing that will displace a worry is another worry.

#2 has gone off for four nights - the longest he's ever been away from home (he's nine) - on a sailing expedition. It looks amazing - all Swallows and Amazons.

Last night I found his toothbrush in the bathroom.

Personal hygiene is not his forte at the best of times.

So, forget fretting about cancer. I'm too busy worrying that #2 is going to come home with no teeth!

Onwards and upwards, and thank you.

SM x

The Obstacle Course

I read loads of sober blogs, and I get hundreds of e-mails and comments from readers of Mummy was a Secret Drinker.

The ones that really make me want to cry, and yell in frustration, are the ones written by people who do the first few days over and over and over again.

They do four days sober, then back to day one. They manage ten days next time, then go on a bender. Three days. Four days again. Ad infinitum.

I get it! I really do. I've been there. We all have. And you do just have to keep persevering until one day it just sticks.

But now, with the benefit of six months of hindsight, I just want to grab them in a big bear hug and yell "Nooooo! You're doing the hardest part over and over, without ever making it to the good bits!"

And the problem is, the longer you spend wallowing around in those early dark days of despair, the more you manage to re-enforce the idea in your subconscious that that's what sobriety is all about.

So, if that's you, then think about it like this:

Imagine you're standing in a field which you've been in for a long, long time. Initially it was beautiful - filled with wild flowers, friends, sunshine and fluffy bunnies (maybe the bunnies are a bit too much? But, hell, I'm going with it).

But, over time, it's got more and more miserable in your field. There are still some sunny days, but there's an awful lot of rain, and some terrible thunderstorms. You keep thinking the flowers are growing back, but they die before they bloom. The bunnies are few and far between.

Then you start meeting people who tell you about another field, not too far away. They've seen it. Some of them live in it. It's everything your field used to be, if not more so. And they appreciate it so much more because they've seen what your desolate home looks like. They used to live there too.

"Hey, come and live with us!" they tell you. Because they're not mean and selfish. They know that there's plenty of room at their place for everyone, and they genuinely want more friends.

You really, really want to join them. But there's a hitch. There's a huge great obstacle course in the way. You can't see the whole course, only the obstacle directly in front of you. And you can't see the promised land on the other side. You have no idea how big the course is, how long it takes to get through it, or whether you're up to it.

But you know that you can't stay where you are. It's only going to get worse. So you take a leap and throw yourself at the first obstacle....

Initially it's not too hard. You've got bags of energy and enthusiasm. But, after you've been over a twelve foot wall, through a leech infested, waterlogged ditch, and dug under a fence with your bare hands you're exhausted. Fed up. You have no proof that this place even exists. You have no idea if you can ever make it that far, and you're desperate to go back to somewhere familiar, where you're not so tired, and cold and scared....

.....so you go back to your field. And initially it's great to be home. The other people stranded there welcome you back with open arms and tell you that the alternative field doesn't really exist. You're comfortable. You know what you're dealing with. You think you can see the sun coming out and a bunny in the distance....

....but you were fooling yourself. There are no bunnies left any more. The thunderstorms come harder and harder. Eventually you throw yourself at the twelve foot wall again. You brave the leeches again. You dig the tunnel. You make it to the fifth obstacle this time before you go back to the beginning.

You go back because you have no proof. You don't know how long it takes. You don't know if you can do it. You're exhausting yourself by doing those first few obstacles over and over again. It's just too hard.

So, if that's you, then listen to this. Because I do know (as do many people reading this who I'm hoping will back me up in the comments below). I am going to say it really loudly:

IT DOES EXIST! IT'S EVERY BIT AS GOOD AS YOU'RE HOPING. IT TAKES ABOUT 100 DAYS TO BE ABLE TO SEE IT, AND ABOUT SIX MONTHS TO GET THERE. YOU CAN DO IT.

The truth is that the hardest bit of the obstacle course is the beginning. So you really don't want to keep re-doing the wall, the leeches and the digging. Once you're through those, the other obstacles get easier, and they're further apart. And you get stronger, and fitter and more able to cope.

One thing to look out for is 'false summits'. Sometimes you think you've got there. You've seen no obstacles for ages, and you think THIS IS IT! Only to be confronted by a whopping great wall. (See my post on Post Acute Withdrawal Symptoms).

But by now you know how to scale those suckers. It's no biggie. You almost start to get a sense of achievement from making it to the other side of each one. After all, a field with no challenges at all in it would be a little....flat and featureless.

So, my fellow adventurers, pack up your bags, say goodbye to your field, throw yourself at the obstacles and KEEP ON GOING! Do not look back until you get to the end!

For more inspiration, read The Sober Diaries. You can read the first few chapters for free by choosing the 'look inside' feature. Click here in the UK, here in the USA and here in Australia.

Love SM x

Triggers

When you stop drinking you find that there are certain 'triggers' that always make you yearn for a delicious, chilled glass of white wine (or whatever your favourite tipple is).

Because I drank every evening, and lunchtimes more often than not, pretty much everything was a trigger to start off with.

Walking past the fridge. Any type of food preparation (except breakfast, thankfully! I hopped off the down escalator before that point). Any form of stress. Walking past the wine shop, or the booze aisle in the supermarket. Anyone dropping in. Being at home alone. Being out with friends. You get the picture.....

The biggest trigger was wine o'clock. Wine o'clock was, officially, 6pm, but it had gradually crept earlier and earlier, until it settled at around 5pm. (Given that 'lunch time' didn't generally end until around 1.30pm, this didn't give me a great deal of time off).

To start with I had to 'white knuckle' it between 5pm and 7pm. I begged the long suffering husband to come home from work as close to 6.30pm as possible, and I'd dash upstairs to take a hot bath with bubbles and deep breathing. By 7.30ish it would be relatively safe to emerge again.

I've now done four months of wine o'clocks, and they are officially not a problem any more. Woo hoo! 6pm is now alcohol free beer time. 9pm is hot chocolate time. Sorted.

The day-in-day-out triggers I've got more or less licked. My issue now is the triggers which pop up unexpectedly. Like the whack-a-mole game I mentioned yesterday. Yoo hoo! Over here! Bam!

People tell me that one of the worst things about bereavement is when you first wake up and forget, just for a moment, that your loved one is gone. Then it hits you afresh.

Quitting alcohol is very much like losing a lover. Your constant companion. Best friend. Your go to prop. And, like bereavement, my worst triggers are when - just for a moment - I forget that my lover is gone.

I received an e-mail a few days ago from #1's school. It was about the year 6 leaver's production of Oliver. It said 'children should be dropped at school at 5.45pm to change and warm up prior to the performance at 6.30pm. Drinks will be available in the marquee for parents.'

My heart soared. Yay! An official excuse to drink! At school! Before 6pm! On a hot day! What's not to like?

Then BAM. Reality. Oh yes. Not me. Never again. Boo hoo.

The other trigger that's currently driving me crazy is bloody Ed Sheeran.

#1, #2 and #3 insist on listening to Capital Radio in the car, which means that - for the first time in a decade - I am totally up to date with the charts. I am intimately acquainted with Taylor Swift and 1D.

If I am annoyed with the offspring, I park outside the school gates, wind the window down, sing loudly to whatever chart song is playing and add appropriate 1980s hand movements. This causes howls of anguish from the back seat as they desperately try to pretend that they've never met me before.

(They get their revenge by shouting loudly in shops "My Mummy's forty six!")

Anyhow, one of their favourite songs is Ed Sheeran's Bloodstream.

It gets me every time. "I got sinning on my mind. Sipping on red wine......I've been looking for a lover, Thought I'd find her in a bottle...."

Then, the line that makes me grip the steering wheel hard, "I feel the chemicals burn in my bloodstream."

There's something about that line.

I don't really miss the second or third glass of wine any more. I miss that first big glug. I miss the moment when you feel it hit your bloodstream, and the world shifts on its axis. The gear changes. Everything softens.

It's like the Star Trek teleport system. Spock hits the button and everyone goes all wavy then pops up somewhere else.

I feel a wave of loss as I realise that I'll never have that fast track to relaxation again.

So, Ed Sheeran, I say take your flipping chemicals and shove them where the sun don't shine, because you're messing with my head. And my school run.

Onwards and upwards peoples.

Love SM x

P.S. In case any of you have been fretting about the sad, premature demise of #3's tadpoles, you will be glad to hear that my sainted mother came up from the country yesterday with 5 new, healthy tadpole/frog combos for the tank, thereby saving her granddaughter from having to face the inevitability of death for a little bit longer.....

Cravings & Tantrums

Day 111, and this is my 100th blog post.

I remember, when I started writing this, thinking that I mustn't post too often or I'd run out of things to say. But here I am, 99 posts later, and still warbling on about booze.

I do love the hour I spend (almost) every morning typing away on the laptop in the kitchen. It makes me feel like Carrie Bradshaw, but with fewer Manolos and Cosmopolitans.

(And I bet Carrie didn't type with one hand while removing dried on crusty Rice Krispies from the table with the other. Still).

It struck me the other day that dealing with cravings is much like dealing with toddler tantrums (Carrie would never use child rearing analogies either). Here's why:

Entry level:  Give in.

Give toddler what they want and they shut up (for a while). But this only teaches them to kick off even more frequently, and with more volume.

That's what I did for decades with the booze. Feel like a drink; have one.

Level one:  Distraction.

Toddler has tantrum. You bring out favourite toy and start making up a story. End of tantrum (for a while).

This is a great technique when you first quit drinking too. Feel like a drink; go for a walk, have a bath with bubbles and candles, eat cake, blog/read blogs, do the gardening, clean the house - whatever works.

I've been on level one for the last 3 months. Then, I suddenly realised that I am starting to use level two. Not always, but often.

Level two:  Deal with the root cause.

After months, or years, of trial and error, you start to realise that, inevitably, toddler tantrums are not about what they think they are about.

For example, toddler has tantrum because they want to watch another episode of Peppa Pig. It is totally out of proportion. They yell until they're red in the face. Then blue. They go rigid. They've actually forgotten what the issue was in the first place, but can't get out of the funk.

Here's the truth: it's not about Peppa Pig.

They are, almost certainly, hungry. Or tired. Or bored. Or overstimulated.

What they need is a rice cake and a nap. Not more Peppa Pig, or distraction with another game (they'll still be hungry and tired, and there'll be another tantrum later - but worse).

The same is true of cravings. You can give in to them (v bad idea). You can distract yourself (it works but, in the end, it only delays the problem). But really what you need to do is to see the craving as a warning signal. It's like the light flashing on the car dashboard.

That warning signal isn't actually saying I need a drink. Your body does not need a drink. After a matter of days (or weeks at most) you are not in the slightest alcohol dependant. We have just got used to dealing with any warning signal by drowning it in alcohol.

What you actually need to do is to find out what the warning signal is really telling you. What is the tantrum actually about?

In my case, the flashing light is usually anxiety related.

There's no point ignoring it and going off for the long bath, because the root cause of the anxiety won't go away.

You have to breathe deeply, work out what the problem is and how to fix it, then put a plan in place. Like a grown up! Then you can go and have the long bath with the problem sorted.

And seeing the cravings as your friend means that you can deal with all those niggly issues early, and discover that your life is suddenly all calm waters and smooth sailing.

But if this is true, and cravings really are our internal toddler tantrums, then that means there is a...

Ninja level:  Avoid the tantrum.

By the time I got to child #3 I was a ninja. She hardly ever had tantrums because I could see well in advance if she was getting hungry or tired. I had routines. I always had healthy snacks. I had prevention strategies and contingency plans.

I didn't let the fear of tantrums interfere with what I wanted to do, and nor can, or should, you avoid any situations which will trigger an alcohol craving BUT you can plan in advance and make your life easier.

For example, I've learned to take my own AF beers with me if I'm staying with friends for a weekend.

I know that anxiety is a major trigger, so I write endless lists and try to get stuff done before it becomes urgent and more stressful.

If I have a tough evening coming up I try to catch 45 minutes sleep during the day so my batteries are re-charged.

And I guess that, over time, I'll develop more and more of these strategies until eventually....

......I'll be a proper grown up. No more tantrums. No more cravings. (Or hardly any. Let's face it, even grown ups have tantrums from time to time).

Have a great tantrum free weekend!

SM x

Is Alcohol Free Beer Evil?

Day 61! Yee Hah!

About 2 weeks into the sobercoaster I discovered Becks Blue 'Alcohol Free' Beer.

Now I've never been a beer drinker. All weak, gassy and full of calories (that's a description of me and the beer, incidentally). I only ever drank beer if I was on one of my many (doomed) attempts to 'moderate'. Wine was my thing.

But when the wine witch strikes, and you need something to stop you killing someone, you have to have coping strategies.

My list includes: (1) Hot bath with bubbles and candles (works well until #1, #2 and #3 pile into bathroom asking for help with homework/whereabouts of favourite toy/refereeing sibling disagreement. (2) Sharing with likeminded friends in the blogosphere (also easily interrupted) (3) Drinking hot chocolate, 'mocktails' or alcohol free beer.

Of the above, the beer option is often the quickest, simplest and most effective antidote. Becks Blue is so like the real thing - it looks the same, tastes the same and smells the same - that I swear the first time I drank one I felt tipsy. It just goes to show how deeply programmed our brains are to equate certain cues with drunkenness.

Then I discovered that 'alcohol free' beers are NOT actually alcohol free. Plus, many experts strongly advise against them on the basis that they can lead to relapse. I freaked out. So I did some investigation.

Becks Blue is, it is true, NOT entirely alcohol free. However, it has only 'trace' elements of alcohol in it. Less than 0.05% ABV. This means that it is impossible to get intoxicated by drinking it. You would have to drink at least one hundred beers in a short space of time to get any effect at all from them.

However, remember that whole dopamine thing I've been obsessed by? Well, tests have shown that, in addicts, even the smell of alcohol, even the thought of alcohol, produces the dopamine reaction in our brains. The danger is, therefore, that drinking AF beer intensifies our cravings and can lead quickly to us reaching for the real thing. We need, the experts say, to get used to living life without any alcohol 'substitutes'.

It's true that drinking AF beer does trigger the old addict responses in me. I start thinking "I'd love a Becks Blue, but I'd better wait until after 6pm. Should I have another one? Hell yes, I deserve it, I've had a hard day...." etc etc, just the way I used to think about wine. But, oddly enough, that's part of the reason it works for me. I've kidded my brain into thinking that it is a proper treat - it is naughty. Much more so than fruity mocktails.

I do realise that I'm keeping the addict voice alive, and that I could be treading a dangerous path, but I've been drinking an average of 8 AF beers a week for the last six weeks and so far it has never triggered the desire to have a 'proper drink'. Quite the reverse - it makes me feel that I have had a proper drink and, therefore, keeps the wine witch off my back for a bit.

Not only that, but Becks Blue has helped me out in social situations too. An old friend of mine, a big drinker, dropped by last week. She and my husband tucked into a bottle of Chablis. Now when I last had a serious go at quitting this friend took it as a personal insult and gave me rather a hard time about it.

Given how rarely I see her (she lives out of town now) I didn't want to ruin both of our evenings with a tense exchange about booze. (I realise that her reaction is indicative of her own issues with alcohol, incidentally). So I quietly poured a Becks Blue into a glass and avoided any interrogation. Simples.

I posted the question "Is AF beer evil?" on the fabulous Soberistas website. I got a really mixed response. Some people said hell yes, do not touch with a bargepole, whereas there were several big fans.

I think that the truth is you have to know your own triggers. I was never a beer drinker, so beer isn't one of mine. I would never consider touching AF wine.

I also feel that, at least in the early stages, you have to love yourself a little, and if that means eating a bit too much chocolate, spending a bit of cash on shoes or drinking a few Becks Blues then so be it. Now that I am a yoda level 'quitter' I can give up all those habits further down the line....

I'd love your views on this one.

SM x

Moderation. Is it possible? Part 2

Day 55. Since I wrote Moderation. Is it possible? I found a fabulous insight into the topic in Caroline Knapp's 'Drinking, a love story,' so I thought is was a subject worth revisiting.

Knapp explores the neurological and physiological reasons behind alcohol addiction. Don't panic, I'm going to explain this in easy terms so that I can unserstand it properly, as well as you!

She explains that when the brain is 'excessively and repeatedly' exposed to alcohol (that'll be me then!) its natural systems of craving and reward are screwed up.

When we drink, our brain's reward system is artificially activated, and it produces dopamine. Dopamine is the brain's 'feel good' chemical. Over time, the brain susses out that it's producing far too much of the stuff, so it compensates by kicking into reverse gear and actively decreases our base levels of dopamine.

That's why, over time, drinkers feel more and more depressed, and start to believe that only alcohol will make us feel better. We're not actually wrong. Drinking enables us to produce dopamine again. What we fail to understand, however, is that it was drinking that caused the problem in the first place.

Effectively, we reach a tipping point where alcohol stops being the solution and starts being the problem.

The good news is that as soon as we stop drinking our brain gets back into balance, and starts producing the happy hormone again all on its own. In fact, in the beginning it can overcompensate. A bit like a rubber band pinging back into position, it initially overshoots. This is why ex drinkers experience the 'pink cloud' stage, followed by a series of ups and downs as our brains struggle to find equilibrium again.

The bad news is that by now our brains have been hard wired to believe that alcohol equals pleasure. Years of our dopamine levels being controlled by alcohol have, in effect, created the 'wine witch' in our heads. And the only way to shut up the wine witch is to not drink.

Knapp uses the best analogy I've heard to explain why alcohol addicts can't drink 'normally' again - that of cucumbers and pickles. She says that you can stop a cucumber turning into a pickle, but once it is a pickle it can never be a cucumber again.

If you're reading this thinking 'am I a cucumber still, or am I already a pickle?' have a look at 'Am I an alcoholic? Part 2' and try Bill Wilson's moderation test. If you find it impossible, over a decent length of time, to stick to drinking just one small drink a day then it is probable that your brain chemistry has already gone haywire. You have, in effect, pickled it.

I know this all sounds a bit depressing but, on the upside, it shows that you are NOT weak willed or pathetic. You are dealing with powerful physiological forces that 'normal drinkers' don't have to face. It is not your fault - it's the fault of the drug.

Plus, there are physiological reasons why you're feeling miserable (if you are) and you will get better. In fact, once we sort out our bain chemistry we should be able to feel as good as we ever did after a large glass of vino all the time!

Have a great weekend, all you fabulous pickles,

SM x

Related Posts: Moderation. Is it possible? What's so great about moderation anyway?

Am I an Alcoholic? Part 2

Day 44, and I'm still wrestling with this question.

In my general trawl of sober blogs, books, articles and all things alcohol related, I came across an article which, for me, was a real 'Ah ha!' moment.

The piece, 'A dry January could be a sign of a drink problem', was published in The Telegraph in January last year by Tom Sykes, an ex drinker.

Tom argues that giving up alcohol for January (as he did himself, many times) is not necessarily helpful, as it can give the illusion that you don't have a problem.

I gave up alcohol in January 2014, and for two months (more or less) in the summer of 2013. Like Tom, I argued to myself that this achievement meant that I was categorically not an alcoholic. I was just a bit thirsty.

Tom argues that most people can manage to give up alcohol for a month. The real test is the one advocated by Bill Wilson - the co-founder of AA - and it involves drinking. But just one drink at a time.

Bill believed that alcoholics suffer an 'allergic reaction' to alcohol that makes it impossible to moderate. Once they start drinking they develop an overwhelming urge to drink more.

So, if you want to know if you have a problem with alcohol try drinking just one glass of wine, then stopping. See if you can repeat this every evening for a week. I might have been able to stop drinking for January, but I definitely couldn't pass Bill Wilson's test.

Here's how my week of 'one glass a day' would go:

Monday: Pour large glass wine. Sit on hands to stop self pouring more. Yell at husband and kids and go to bed by 9pm in order to get away from the fridge. Tell self that am very clever and have definitely proved the point.

Tuesday: Repeat with larger glass of wine, bigger argument and earlier bedtime. Congratulate self more, especially given the particularly stressful day I've had.

Wednesday: Since today is even more stressful 2 glasses of wine seems fair enough. It's a stupid test anyway. After all, I can give up for a whole month, so this proves nothing.

Thursday: Pour two glasses. Hell, Thursday is the new Friday. It's the weekend! Finish the bottle! Well done me. I made it through the week.

Denial is a river in Egypt.

I still have problems with the label 'alcoholic' (see Am I an Alcoholic?), but thank you, thank you Tom for further convincing me that I am definitely doing the right thing.

Love to you all SM x

Related posts: 5 signs that you're a problem drinker

Cravings from left field

This weekend (day 41/42) was very much a game of two halves.

On the plus side, on Saturday I finally experienced what I'd read about in other sober blogs and memoirs: a real flash of elation.

We were in Holland Park with #1, #2, #3 and the dog. The children were playing hide and seek in the adventure playground. Husband was reading the weekend FT in the sunshine. The dog and I went for a wander - looking at the hugely diverse groups of people you find in Central London relaxing and frolicking in the warm spring sunshine.

Then, out of no-where, I felt a bolt of pure joie de vivre and love like I haven't felt since the legendary Judge Jules played at The Cross back in 1995. "This is it!" I thought, "this is what I've been promised!" Then it went. I'm sure it'll be back, though.

On the minus side (and the two things are definitely related), by Sunday evening the massive cravings were back with a vengeance.

I think that in the early stages of sobriety you are constantly on high alert. Because you are thinking about not drinking all the time, you always have your armour up. It's like the picture of a Roman battalion in #2's Roman Project (God, that was a nightmare. Enough to drive any mother to drink) book. The soldiers march forward slowly in 'tortoise' position - with shields positioned to protect their sides, front and back, and even over their heads like a shell.

As time goes on, you manage to forget about not drinking for whole minutes - or even hours - at a time. It's such a relief to have some lovely clear headspace. But, as a result, you let your shields down. Your Roman soldiers head off to the hot baths, the mess tent and the brothel. You are left exposed.

Where are my armies? Up your sleevies! (You can tell I spend too much time with children ;-))

So then, when a craving hits you it's feels like you're sitting on the toilet minding your own business, when the door flies open and you're confronted by an angry dwarf pointing a crossbow straight at your chest.

(Aarrghh! Sorry! Sorry! It's the Game of Thrones obsession coming about again! Did I mention that season 5 breaks in the UK tonight??)

My craving last night didn't just last ten minutes, the way they're supposed to. I spent hours feeling angsty and tetchy.

Thankfully I'd been reading up on visualisation (see yesterday's post I am Khaleesi), and I let loose all 3 dragons at the wine witch who, finally, slunk off into a corner.

Today I'm thinking of new reader Red, who unleashed Khaleesi yesterday too, and hopefully made it through to day 2 unscathed.

Stick with it, friends. We can do it.

Love SM x

Related Post: Fed up Friday: Angst and Wobbles