If you're in the early days of quitting drinking, or you've still not quite taken the plunge, then I bet you're haunted by fear of the unknown.
Since we usually start drinking in our teenage years, and many of us ended up drinking every single day, we literally cannot imagine what life is like without our faithful pal.
We 'enthusiastic drinkers' tend to have few - if any - sober friends (killjoys!) who we can use as role models.
The fears that we grapple with go something like this:
1. Will I lose all my friends?
2. Will I ever be able to socialise again?
3. Will I ever be happy?
4. How will I deal with anxiety and stress?
5. What does 'sober' feel like?
Luckily, the sobersphere is filled with the all the answers you need from those of us who've trodden the path before you. Check out www.soberistas.com, this blog and the blogs of my lovely friends like The Wine Bitch, Anne in Sobriety, God Walked into This Bar and My Time to Shine.
Then you'll find that once you've got rid of the unknown, you've also got rid of the fear.
(By the way, a quick summary of the answers is as follows: (1) Only the toxic ones (2) Yes! But you'll socialise in a different way - less shallow, more rewarding (3) More than you can remember ever having been before (4) Way better than you're doing right now! (5) Freedom and peace)
For those of you who've been following my journey since my diagnosis with breast cancer last week, for the last few days I've been paralysed by fear of the unknown.
I've been keeping it all together for the kids who are on half term (imagine trying to do that with a couple of bottles of vino thrown into the mix!), but I keep having to take the dog out for walks so that I can weep silently in parks.
Today I have a PET scan. This involves being injected with a radioactive liquid (like the ReadyBrek boy) and then scanned so they can see if the cancer has spread anywhere else. This stuff is so horrible that I'm not allowed to cuddle the kids when I get home.
I get the results tomorrow. If they say that there's no spread I will be overjoyed (who'd have thought a week ago that you could be thrilled with the idea of having just breast cancer?). If the news is bad I may well fall off the waggon, as I'm not sure how I can deal with more. Becks Blue may have finally met its match.
My operation is scheduled for Friday. The kids are being great. Their main questions are as follows:
#1 how wonky are your boobs going to be? #2 will there be loads of blood? #3 can we keep your lump in a jar?
Hope all well with you lovely people.