Wednesday 5 August 2015

Live Like Someone's Watching

I read somewhere that we should always try to live like someone's watching. It's a great way of checking whether you're doing the right thing. How would I feel if my mother/child/husband could see me now?

In fact, in the lives of most teenagers, filled with Facebook, Instagram and the like, someone probably is watching pretty much all the time. Which is, apparently, one of the reasons why the amount young people drink is falling.

They are terrified of being caught, literally and metaphorically, with their pants down. They know that the indiscretions of their youth will haunt them forever.

My maternal grandmother died when I was twenty. I didn't believe in heaven and hell as such, or in angels floating on clouds, but I did think that there was some form of life after death.

In my worst moments of self recrimination (usually at around 3am when I couldn't sleep) I would imagine my granny looking down at whatever I'd been up to that evening, horrified at the antics of her darling granddaughter.

I remembered this today, and it struck me that I haven't done anything (as far as I can remember!) in the last five months that I wouldn't have wanted Granny to see. I am living like someone's watching.

On the one hand, I'm horribly proud of that. But on the other hand, it feels a bit dull and ordinary to be so transparent. I kind of miss my seedy underbelly. Not the actual thing, you understand, just the idea of it.

It reminds me of when I was heading off to University for the first time. No-one I knew was going to Oxford, so I realised that it was a great opportunity to re-invent myself.

I decided that what I most wanted to be was elusive. I had always worn my heart on my sleeve. I had a habit of telling strangers my life story. I had no secrets. What you saw was what you got. I wanted people to say "Do you know SM?" and the reply to be "No-one really knows SM."

Of course, I only managed a few days of playing enigmatic before the wheels came off.

Ironically, decades later my life was one whole charade of smoke and mirrors.

But now I'm back to what you see is what you get. If you're there, Granny, it's can look now!

Perhaps that's one on the reasons I love this blog: it's my little secret....

Love SM x


  1. Honestly, the thought makes me completely anxious. I used to feel like that all the time. How do I look? Is my hair ok? An I standing weird?

    Wow. It killed me. Now I have almost no inner dialogue of constant critical anxiety. Perhaps part of that is because I have nothing to hide. I am free.

    And I realize no one is watching me. They are all to worried about u themselves. Lol.

  2. SM, I hate to tell you this, but your blog is no secret! We all love it xx

  3. Hi SM x
    I have been struggling with this concept for quite a few weeks now. The bbq and Summer social calendar is in full swing now and I have convinced myself that everyone is looking at me thinking what a boring old git I have become. Whilst the majority are slowly getting bladdered amongs hoots of raucous laughter, I find myself, yet again on the fringes of the groups, so to speak, clinging hopefully to my bottle of Cobra Zero, desperately trying to figure out what was so bloody funny. Awkwardness only begins to describe my mindset at these get-togethers.
    I never realised how difficult I would find it to learn how to interact and socialise whilst being stone cold sober.
    I wonder how many of those drunk people, apparantly having the time of thier lives are secretly envying me, my sobriety and my achievements?

    1. I've missed you Tallaxo! I've rather avoided the summer socialising thing by heading off to Cornwall with the kids, so I don't know how difficult I'd be finding it. Is it getting any better? I have to believe that eventually it won't be an issue!?!? Sending you huge hugs xx

    2. Thanks SM, I havn't gone away. I have been here quietly reading your blog. These are still early days and I think I am getting impatient, waiting for the day that I can relax fully in the company of other drinkers and 'go with the flow' armed only with my C2H6O free beer.
      Thank you for the hug, I needed it xx

  4. Sometimes I wonder whether we all need 'a secret' just in order to survive?! Or is that the alcoholic in me talking.