Spot the Lush

BIG ROUND OF APPLAUSE to my old friend, Tallaxo, who made it to six months yesterday. Tallaxo, it's been a real pleasure and a delight having you on this road alongside me. You rock.

About a year ago (well before I quit), I was chatting to a school Mum friend about a mutual acquaintance (let's call her 'Daphne' because that's a really cool name, and I always wanted to be Daphne from Scooby Doo).

"Did you know that Daphne doesn't drink?" she asked me. I didn't. I tried really hard to appear only vaguely interested when, really, I was fascinated.

" Why's that?" I replied, nonchalantly.

"She's very open about it. She had a totally wild youth - drink, drugs, you name it. Had to quit everything. AA, NA, you know. But the funny thing is, she says that now she can spot the addict a mile off! It's a game she plays at the school gate."

"How funny," I reply. Not in the slightest amused. I was terrified. Had she spotted me? Had she out-ed me? Was this a pointed conversation? Aaarrrggghhh.

I was rather relieved when Daphne moved to the country a few months later as it got really tiring trying to avoid her in the playground. Now, I wish she were still here. I'd love a sober school Mum friend!

Anyhow, the point is, I now know exactly what she means! It didn't happen immediately (I was rather wrapped up in myself, initially), but I have developed an amazing ability to spot the lush.

When I was working in London in the early nineties I had a great gay friend called Guy (only one vowel away from being an adjective).

In those days, believe it or not, it was really hard to be openly homosexual in business, even in advertising (where Guy and I worked).

We had, for example, a boss who used to regale us frequently with stories about his girlfriend, Fiona. It was only several years later that we discovered Fiona was really Bob.

Guy said that he could spot an 'in the closet', repressed gay a mile off. He called it his gaydar. He was never wrong. 'Fiona' never fooled Guy.

Now, sober is the new gay. And I have a lush-dar. It's a great way to keep yourself amused at drinks parties.

The rookie error is to assume that the lush is the drunkest person in the room.  The loud, falling over person is probably an occasional drinker who's overdone it.

The real lush, at first sight, doesn't look too drunk at all - they have a far higher tolerance than that.

I was at a drinks party recently, chatting to a lady I'd never met before, and I thought Bingo. I just knew.

So, in the interests of this blog, I made myself analyse why. What was the giveaway? Here's what I concluded:

1. The lush is often overweight, particularly round the middle. Even if they are skinny, they tend to be puffy. Especially around the face.

2. They mention alcohol frequently in conversation, even to total strangers. "I'll be the one propping up the bar!", "We must get together for a drink, or three," "So, I'd had a few drinks when...." "Woke up with a horrible hangover and..."

It's much like when a friend first falls in love and scatters their lover's name into conversation liberally without even realise they're doing it.

3. They may not look drunk, but they don't seem physically steady. They stand a little too close. They might sway a little, or slur a little. They don't blink enough. They laugh too much. Tiny signs, only visible to an expert.

4. They are a bit florid. Red in the cheeks and the nose. Slightly bloodshot eyes. Broken veins.

5. They appear at ease, gregarious, confident, but something doesn't sit right. You get a sense that underneath the bonhomie they're edgy and insecure. They don't feel grounded.

This might sound like something out of Mean Girls, but, honestly, I don't look down on the lush. I don't despise her. I love her. She is me. She is one of my tribe.

I want to go up and give her a big hug, and say "it's okay. I know how you feel. It can all get better," but I know how much you hate hearing the truth from the people closest to you, let alone from a complete stranger.

So I say nothing. I just nod along to the suggestion that we get together "for a few jars" and "get hammered."

And it strikes me that I always had a 'lush-dar', it's just that back then I saw it as a 'new friend detector.' I would immediately gravitate towards the other hard drinker in the crowd knowing, subconsciously, that we had a great deal in common.

I still see them as potential 'new friends.' I just hope that they find me, when they're ready.

Happy sober Saturday everyone.

SM x

5 signs that you're a problem drinker

Today is Day 40! Woo hoo - the big FOUR OH. Have a glass of veuve cliquot to celebrate! Oh, whoops - perhaps best not....

I used to be - and still am - obsessed with those quizzes called things like 'are you an alcoholic?' or 'signs that you're a problem drinker.' The problem is that I always found them too reassuring, despite the fact that I was drinking at least one bottle of wine a day.

I would happily stick crosses against questions like: Do you get the shakes in the morning? Do you get blackouts? Have your friends and/or family asked you to cut down? And, until 41 days ago (see Secret Drinker Hits the High Bottom) I confidently shook my head to 'Have you ever drunk in the morning? and Do you hide alcohol?'

But these questions were providing a false sense of security. We all have different 'ah ha' moments - those things that, in the middle of the night when we're wrestling the demons and sweating out the Chablis, make us realise that our drinking is actually a bit of a problem.

So, in the interests of honesty, and so that I have a written record to remind myself what life was like BS (before sober), here were my five signs. Please do, for the benefit of any worried drinkers reading this, add your own in the comments below...

(1) Dealing with hangovers

I started to notice that most people who wake up with chronic hangovers have the reaction 'Oh my God, I am never, ever, going to drink again'. And, indeed, they manage not to for at least a day or two. My reaction to a hangover had become 'Oh my God, I am never going to feel better until I can legitimately (i.e. after 12pm) have another drink.' This, I eventually realised was a sign.

(2) Trying, and failing, to 'moderate'

Problem drinkers all desperately want to be able to moderate. We do all sorts of deals with ourselves. Do any of these sound familiar: I will not drink on school nights? I will not drink before 6pm/before dinner/at lunch times? I will not drink alone/at home? I will not drink spirits/wine? I made many of these deals with the wine witch over the year or two before I quit and I was never able to keep to them for more than a week or two. This was another sign.

(3) Obsession

I started to spend more and more time thinking about drinking. For example, an hour or so before 'wine o'clock' I would start to obsessively check my watch. I would check my fridge daily to see how much wine was available, and plan my shopping trips around school runs accordingly. If the husband and I were 'sharing' a bottle I would constantly check that I was getting at least my share (hopefully more). Spending lots of time thinking about drinking is not a good sign.

(4) Physical and Mental Health

I was never hospitalised. I never blacked out or threw up. My doctor never twigged how much I was drinking (I 'fessed up' to 14 units a week - lol). But I had a terrible wine belly. I was overweight and puffy. I had debilitating insomnia (see sleep, glorious sleep), and I was miserable and stuck in a rut. It took a long time to twig that these were all signs.

(5) Deception

I have always prided myself on being really open and honest, but towards the end of my glittering drinking career I started to lie. I lied to myself - constantly - about how much I was drinking. I lied to my GP (see above). I 'confessed' to my friends to drinking 'oooh, about half a bottle a day - isn't that terrible?' And then I started to hide half full bottles of wine in the cupboard so that when the husband came home I could pretend that I hadn't started drinking yet. For me, this soul destroying deception was the final sign.

So, next time the wine witch whispers in my ear that 'I wasn't so bad really. I've done 40 days without wine already, surely I can have just one?' I can re-read this post and remind myself how much better life is without all of that stuff.

If you're a drinker and recognise yourself in any of this then please do join me on this rollercoaster of sobriety. It's worth it.

Love SM x