Thursday 27 April 2017

Police Cars and Cashiers

When I started this blog I thought I was fairly unique. But not in a good way.

I didn't think there were many 'ordinary mums' like me who were wrestling on a daily basis with the wine witch, or whose lives were secretly out of control.

I quickly discovered that I was wrong - I really wasn't alone.

I found out that were many women (and men!) out there, just like me. They mailed me their stories, and they were all spookily similar to mine.

But the funny thing was, not only were we alike in the reasons why we started drinking, the way it escalated, how it was making us feel and our inability to moderate (I still can't type that word without gritting my teeth), but many of my quirks and neuroses, it transpired, are terribly common.

That's why youboozeyoulooze (find her blog here) asked me to post a link to a piece I wrote a while ago on Police Cars and Cashiers (click here).

I still remember vividly the times I spent fretting about being judged by cashiers, and how much effort I went to to avoid seeing the same ones. And I still get a thrill now when I drive past police cars late a night knowing for certain that the breathalyser holds no fear for me.

But quitting booze is hard, which is why I'm sharing an article sent to me by an Australian (male!) reader, w3stie. (In my fevered imagination, he's just like Mike Dundee, all rippling six pack, great sense of humour and able to take down a crocodile with his bare hands).

The article is by Felicity Ward, an Australian comedian and columnist, who talks about why she quit drinking and what's happened to her life since. Here's a taster:

I wondered how I'd ever have fun again. I wondered if I'd be boring for the rest of my life. I wondered how people would know I was a wanker if I didn't order a Penfolds 389 with my dinner.

So initially I just shut the world out for a bit, went cold turkey and kept a low profile. Oh, and I cried. A lot. Sometimes I'd walk around my apartment and have to lie on the floor all of a sudden because the sadness was too heavy. That's something they DON'T tell you about giving up alcohol.

When you stop drinking, you find all these things you'd forgotten about for years ... like FEELINGS. You know: fear, insecurity, self-loathing.

Oh, that's why I was drinking. I seeeee...

To read the whole article (which I heartily recommend and which does - spoiler alert - have a happy ending) click here.

Lots of love to you all, and thanks to w3stie!

SM x

8 comments:

  1. Thanks for the link. I just had a flashback about how I used to alternate off licences in my area (on a roster) so that no one would know that I drink enough wine per month to fill up a large paddling pool:)

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  2. That was a great link, thanks for sharing it!

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  3. Re the article excerpt....for so many of us, alcohol is such an immense presence in our lives, it might as well be a person; certainly, it's one (often way too large) part of our own personna, So maybe it's a help to realize, starting out...there will be grief. And loss. And like any other....it will pass.

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  4. Great blog. ; )
    I used to pretend I was having people over. I would even ask questions like, "What would you serve with lamb shank?" I don't even cook!! It was such a farce.

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  5. I was even worse! I made my husband go to the liquor store for me...and he couldn't care less what the cashier thought of him so he went to the same place every night...and how am I worse? On the nights he couldn't go, I'd go and say I was buying it for him because he couldn't get there! How sad is that!!!' Throwing the husband under the bus! xo

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  6. Thank you for this link. It is spot on for me today. One of the times where something you read resonates deep inside and you hope you can hold on and just keep that feeling going.

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  7. Oooooh I would love to be stopped by the police and breathalised!!! And then proudly state I'm 160( tomorrow) days sober officer!!!!! He would probably think I was crazy AND drunk!

    Thanks for the post SM and Have a fabulous sober long weekend everyone :-) xxxx

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