I've woken up early on New Year's Day - probably as a result of all the adrenaline from last night.
Early on New Year's Eve, here in the picture perfect Swiss Alpine town of Verbier, it started snowing. Fat flakes of snow, the first in weeks, illuminated against the night sky.
The fireworks started at around 6pm, and continued all night. Constant busts of colour, the noise ricocheting off the mountains, the air filled with the smell of cordite.
At midnight we joined thousands of revellers dancing to a crazy DJ in the town square. There were people of all ages and hundreds of nationalities, speaking a variety of languages.
Russian oligarchs rubbing shoulders with ski bums financing their ski season by washing up in the town's restaurants, united by their love of the snow and their desire to welcome the New Year in with a bang.
I didn't need to drink to feel high. In fact, the boozed up revellers, falling over onto broken glass and recklessly lighting fireworks into the crowd, were a great reminder that it's a good idea to be in control.
At midnight, hundreds of people sprayed champagne over the heads of the dancers (I never would have wasted good booze like that in my day), so I still went home reeking of alcohol.
And the best bit?
Waking up today knowing that, for the first time ever, I can really enjoy the first day of a brand new year. All sparkling new and filled with possibility. Starting as I mean to go on, not filled to the brim with toxins and regret.
The slopes will be covered in fresh snow, and they will be empty. Just me and my family, swishing our way into the future.
If you're waking up today with a hangover, desperate to make a change, then don't worry. I'm with you, as are all my friends on here, and in the Soberverse.
Throughout January I'll be posting Reasons to Stay Sober as well as Sober Tips, which I'm sure my regular readers will help with too, so stay with me.
Happy New Year to you all!
SM x
Thursday, 31 December 2015
Wednesday, 30 December 2015
2015 - The Year I Quit Drinking
I started 2015 imagining it was going to be a year just like the decade preceding it. I wasn't expecting any big changes at all.
As ever, my main New Year's resolution was to 'cut down' on the drinking. Not immediately on Jan 1st, obviously, but around Jan 5th, once I'd got over the hangover and got the kids back to school.
I started off resolving not to drink at all until February. That lasted a week. I then told myself I'd only drink at the weekends. Which lasted another week.
Ah ha! How about only drinking when I was out - never at home? I went out most nights that week and exhausted myself.
Finally, I decided to only drink beer. I managed that one until I'd had so many beers I thought 'sod it - I'll open a bottle of vino.'
By the end of February I was back to a bottle of wine a day, feeling toxic, fat and hating myself.
So I quit.
The first few weeks were really hard. I was exhausted all the time. I thought about booze constantly. I was convinced I'd never be able to have fun again.
I started this blog, and found people like me all over the world who travelled the journey with me, and without whom I'd never have made it.
Then, at around day 100, miracles started to happen.
I looked 5 years younger. I started losing weight - about half a pound a week, every week, without trying. I had bags of energy. I got stuff done, like decluttering, decorating, and I finished writing my novel.
By September - six months after quitting - I felt like a new person. The cloud I'd not even realised I'd been under had lifted. I re-discovered a sense of fearlessness and optimism. I became a much better Mum, better wife and better friend. I found my mojo, and felt like the world was my oyster.
Then, in October, I found A Lump. In my left boob. A 23mm invasive, lobular carcinoma, with associated DCIS, to be precise. Aka breast cancer.
I went right back to the beginning. Constantly fearful, taking one day at a time, no idea what lay ahead, or if I could handle it.
But I got through it. Sober. And, whilst I'd never say I was glad it happened, it's left me with the ability to not sweat the small stuff, and the realisation that life is short, and we have to make the most of every day we're given.
I ended the year celebrating Christmas, being cancer free and the things that really matter - family and friends - sober.
So, farewell, then 2015. The year I lost the drink and gained a life.
And a Happy New Year to all you wonderful people. I owe everything to you. Without you, 2015 would have been a very different year.
Love SM x
As ever, my main New Year's resolution was to 'cut down' on the drinking. Not immediately on Jan 1st, obviously, but around Jan 5th, once I'd got over the hangover and got the kids back to school.
I started off resolving not to drink at all until February. That lasted a week. I then told myself I'd only drink at the weekends. Which lasted another week.
Ah ha! How about only drinking when I was out - never at home? I went out most nights that week and exhausted myself.
Finally, I decided to only drink beer. I managed that one until I'd had so many beers I thought 'sod it - I'll open a bottle of vino.'
By the end of February I was back to a bottle of wine a day, feeling toxic, fat and hating myself.
So I quit.
The first few weeks were really hard. I was exhausted all the time. I thought about booze constantly. I was convinced I'd never be able to have fun again.
I started this blog, and found people like me all over the world who travelled the journey with me, and without whom I'd never have made it.
Then, at around day 100, miracles started to happen.
I looked 5 years younger. I started losing weight - about half a pound a week, every week, without trying. I had bags of energy. I got stuff done, like decluttering, decorating, and I finished writing my novel.
By September - six months after quitting - I felt like a new person. The cloud I'd not even realised I'd been under had lifted. I re-discovered a sense of fearlessness and optimism. I became a much better Mum, better wife and better friend. I found my mojo, and felt like the world was my oyster.
Then, in October, I found A Lump. In my left boob. A 23mm invasive, lobular carcinoma, with associated DCIS, to be precise. Aka breast cancer.
I went right back to the beginning. Constantly fearful, taking one day at a time, no idea what lay ahead, or if I could handle it.
But I got through it. Sober. And, whilst I'd never say I was glad it happened, it's left me with the ability to not sweat the small stuff, and the realisation that life is short, and we have to make the most of every day we're given.
I ended the year celebrating Christmas, being cancer free and the things that really matter - family and friends - sober.
So, farewell, then 2015. The year I lost the drink and gained a life.
And a Happy New Year to all you wonderful people. I owe everything to you. Without you, 2015 would have been a very different year.
Love SM x
Tuesday, 29 December 2015
What's Missing?
The end of a year is a good time to ask yourself some big questions.
I was listening to an interview recently with the astrologer Russell Grant. He was talking about the years he spent with debilitating depression. He weighed 27 stone, and had become a virtual recluse.
He says that he woke up on January 5th, 2009, and knew he had to get his life back. He asked himself "What's missing in my life?" He realised that 'joy' was missing, and that it was musical theatre that gave him joy.
He went back into theatre, regained joy, lost the weight and got his life back.
He says that everyone suffering from depression should ask the question what's missing in my life?
I think the same is true for anyone struggling with alcohol addiction, because often we use alcohol to plug a gap.
Looking back, what was missing in my life - seemingly so perfect - was self respect.
I'd always been incredibly lucky. I did really well at school and University. I had lots of friends. A loving family. My luck continued, and I found a career I loved and was very good at.
I was made a Board Director at the age of thirty, and by 33 was a Managing Partner, running a huge team of people.
But by the time #3 was born, trying to 'have it all' was driving me crazy. And I didn't want to miss seeing my kids grow up. So I quit.
I thought I'd be the perfect full time Mum. Endlessly patient, fun, creative. I'd be constantly baking cakes and making models out of sticky back plastic and empty cereal boxes.
But I wasn't very good at it. Not bad, but not great. And I wasn't used to not being great at my life.
I'd been used to constant accolades - prizes, promotions, pay rises. And you don't get any of that as a full time Mum.
The most you can hope for is that you get to the end of the day and the children still have thirty fingers and thirty toes between them (presuming you have three children. If you only have two that would be kind of weird), and no-one's currently throwing a tantrum or beating up a sibling.
Slowly, so slowly I barely noticed, I lost my self respect.
And the hole that was left behind I topped up with vino.
You know the problem with that, don't you?
Alcohol has a terrible way of taking that very thing you're trying to fix and making it worse. Drinking a bottle of wine a day doesn't give you self respect, does it? Instead it strips away any you had left and makes you really hate yourself.
The more I drank, the more I disliked myself. And the more I disliked myself, the more I drank.
People mail me telling me that they starting drinking following divorce or bereavement, because they were lonely. Totally understandable!
What was 'missing' was companionship. But drinking doesn't give you that, at least not once it's out of control. Instead you end up drinking at home alone - holding a pity party for one.
Many of us drink to cope with anxiety, stress or fear. We're missing courage. But alcohol takes all that courage away. It makes us unable to cope with anything much at all when we're sober, and dealing with problems drunk is never a good idea!
I stopped drinking nearly ten months ago, and - slowly, slowly, I've found my self respect returning.
I'm a better Mum. In quitting the booze I've done something incredible that took real courage and perseverance. I've been writing every day (which I've always wanted to do). And I've faced up to (and, hopefully, beaten) cancer.
I really, really like myself.
So, ask yourself 'what's missing?' And you know what? You won't find whatever it is at the bottom of a bottle, but if you put the bottle down I bet you'll find it comes back, in spades.
Just do it.
Love SM x
I was listening to an interview recently with the astrologer Russell Grant. He was talking about the years he spent with debilitating depression. He weighed 27 stone, and had become a virtual recluse.
He says that he woke up on January 5th, 2009, and knew he had to get his life back. He asked himself "What's missing in my life?" He realised that 'joy' was missing, and that it was musical theatre that gave him joy.
He went back into theatre, regained joy, lost the weight and got his life back.
He says that everyone suffering from depression should ask the question what's missing in my life?
I think the same is true for anyone struggling with alcohol addiction, because often we use alcohol to plug a gap.
Looking back, what was missing in my life - seemingly so perfect - was self respect.
I'd always been incredibly lucky. I did really well at school and University. I had lots of friends. A loving family. My luck continued, and I found a career I loved and was very good at.
I was made a Board Director at the age of thirty, and by 33 was a Managing Partner, running a huge team of people.
But by the time #3 was born, trying to 'have it all' was driving me crazy. And I didn't want to miss seeing my kids grow up. So I quit.
I thought I'd be the perfect full time Mum. Endlessly patient, fun, creative. I'd be constantly baking cakes and making models out of sticky back plastic and empty cereal boxes.
But I wasn't very good at it. Not bad, but not great. And I wasn't used to not being great at my life.
I'd been used to constant accolades - prizes, promotions, pay rises. And you don't get any of that as a full time Mum.
The most you can hope for is that you get to the end of the day and the children still have thirty fingers and thirty toes between them (presuming you have three children. If you only have two that would be kind of weird), and no-one's currently throwing a tantrum or beating up a sibling.
Slowly, so slowly I barely noticed, I lost my self respect.
And the hole that was left behind I topped up with vino.
You know the problem with that, don't you?
Alcohol has a terrible way of taking that very thing you're trying to fix and making it worse. Drinking a bottle of wine a day doesn't give you self respect, does it? Instead it strips away any you had left and makes you really hate yourself.
The more I drank, the more I disliked myself. And the more I disliked myself, the more I drank.
People mail me telling me that they starting drinking following divorce or bereavement, because they were lonely. Totally understandable!
What was 'missing' was companionship. But drinking doesn't give you that, at least not once it's out of control. Instead you end up drinking at home alone - holding a pity party for one.
Many of us drink to cope with anxiety, stress or fear. We're missing courage. But alcohol takes all that courage away. It makes us unable to cope with anything much at all when we're sober, and dealing with problems drunk is never a good idea!
I stopped drinking nearly ten months ago, and - slowly, slowly, I've found my self respect returning.
I'm a better Mum. In quitting the booze I've done something incredible that took real courage and perseverance. I've been writing every day (which I've always wanted to do). And I've faced up to (and, hopefully, beaten) cancer.
I really, really like myself.
So, ask yourself 'what's missing?' And you know what? You won't find whatever it is at the bottom of a bottle, but if you put the bottle down I bet you'll find it comes back, in spades.
Just do it.
Love SM x
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