Why a Pandemic is the Best Time to be Sober

Like millions of people around the globe, I feel like I'm living in an unfamiliar, and unwelcome, parallel universe. 

The TV I watch, books I read and vivid dreams I have show people hugging, kissing, travelling, partying and working in offices. My diary is filled with festivals, concerts and theatre trips, parties and a few holidays - events that will never happen. 

Instead, we are all living in a world of isolation and fear. Even if we are lucky enough to be healthy, we worry for our friends and family, for our livelihoods, for the world.

At a time like this, it's easy to think that alcohol will help. Indeed, alcohol sales in the UK have increased by around 50%. My local supermarket's booze aisle has been stripped bare, and my social media feed is filled with memes about alcohol being the only way to survive all this. 

And yes, alcohol does - temporarily - blur all the edges. It softens our reality, which needs an awful lot of softening right now. It provides a well-deserved treat at the end of the day, when our lives are suddenly devoid of pleasures. And surely now is not the time to make our lives even harder by denying ourselves a drink?

I get it. But, now really is the very worst time to be drinking.

Firstly, alcohol increases anxiety. I know that seems counter-intuitive, but it really is true. Yes, initially it makes your shoulders relax and you can feel yourself unwinding. But, as the alcohol leaves your body, that anxiety returns magnified, often in the middle of the night.

Sleep is difficult enough at the moment, and alcohol makes it much worse. Booze might lull you off to sleep, but it'll wake you up at 3am and taunt you until your alarm goes off.

Keeping the ship afloat right now - trying to work from home while simultaneously home-schooling, providing endless meals, cleaning and doing all that worrying - is really, really hard, and so much harder if you throw a hangover into the mix. 

Also, drinking makes us short-tempered, and when you're stuck in a small space with your family, you do not want to add fuel to the fire of any simmering resentments.

Added to all of this, alcohol is a drug. The more you drink, the more your body and mind come to rely on it. And, like being on holiday but without any of the fun, a pandemic is a time when all the usual restrictions don't apply. You probably don't have an office to go to. You can start drinking earlier and earlier in the day and pour increasingly large measures - and you probably will. It's very, very easy to turn a moderate drinking habit into a serious problem.

There are some really, really good reasons to be sober right now.

Once you're past the first hard days of not drinking, being sober makes you so much calmer, stronger, and more able to cope. You probably have parents or children, or both, relying on you, and you really want to make sure that you're up to the challenge.

Also, alcohol messes with your immune system, and everything we know about this terrible virus tells us that the fitter and healthier you are, the more likely it is that you'll be able to shake it off relatively easily.

If you've been secretly worrying about your drinking habits for a while, this is actually a really good time to quit.

The hardest thing about the early days of going sober is other people. Dinners, drinks parties and holidays are tough to start with, so often the newly sober will self-isolate for a while, just like you're doing right now. You can easily empty your cupboards and fridge of alcohol and not go near the booze aisle when doing your weekly shop. It's probably empty in any case!

One of the things I'm most grateful for right now is being sober. 

If I were still drinking, I would be constantly anxious about where my next drink was coming from. Then I'd feel guilty about that anxiety, when there are so many more important things to worry about. I'd have emptied the cupboards of loo roll and pasta, and filled them with wine. I'd be (even more) bad tempered with the kids and the husband, and would be spending my evenings comatose and my mornings hungover.

Just writing that paragraph makes me feel queasy.

So, if you're thinking about quitting drinking, do it now. Then, when the world finally gets back to normal, you'll be in the very best shape to make the most of everything it has to offer. And if you're newly sober and struggling, don't make the mistake of thinking that alcohol would make it easier. it would only make everything so very much worse.

To read about my first year sober, and for hints and tips on how to do it and what to expect, read my memoir - The Sober Diaries.

For more information and inspiration, check out my SoberMummy Facebook Page. I'm doing a Facebook Live session on Thursday at 8.15pm UK time (after the clapping).

If you'd like to take your mind off everything and are looking for some feel-good fiction, my new novel - The Authenticity Project - is out now!

If you'd like to find out more about me, or to contact me privately, go to www.clarepooley.com

Love to you all. Stay safe and well.

Clare Pooley (aka SoberMummy)

Are You Scared?

One of the most difficult aspects of getting sober is learning to deal with fear.

Fear can prevent us from even getting off the starting blocks. I get lots of e-mails from people saying something along the lines of "I really want to quit drinking. I know I have to quit drinking. But I'm scared. Scared of failing, scared that I'll be miserable for ever, scared of living life without my favourite prop..."

That first hurdle is so daunting that, for many people, they can only scale it once they've reached 'rock bottom' (which is a place none of us want to get to).

Once we've overcome that initial fear we then have to learn how to cope with on-going fears and anxieties without our favourite method of numbing the edges, and that's really hard. We're totally out of practice at doing fear (or any emotion, actually), in the raw.

If any of this is ringing any bells with you, then check out this great YouTube clip of Will Smith talking about overcoming fear (click here).

Will concludes with the words on the other side of your maximum fear are all the best things in life.

And you know what? He's right!

Think back to some of your best days. Your finest moments. Maybe your wedding day? The day your first child was born? The time you won that huge contract, launched a new business or landed a book deal. The day you climbed a mountain, jumped out of a plane or ran a marathon.

What preceded those days? Fear, right? Or, at least, anxiety.

If you'd sidestepped that fear, you never would have experienced the brilliance of the other side.

Well, that's all very well, but even when you focus on the end goal, even when you know this is something you have to get through, it still doesn't mean it's easy, does it?

So, try this advice from the latest book by the brilliant Amy Cuddy:

Amy says that the secret to not only dealing with anxiety, but making it work in your favour is to reframe it in your mind as excitement.

In a recent study by Alison Brooks, when people were given a challenge of singing, speaking or doing a maths challenge in public, those who took a moment to reframe their anxiety as excitement outperformed all the others.

And, funnily enough, fear and excitement feel very similar, don't you think? There's that butterfly in the stomach sensation or, in my case, the nest of squirming vipers.

I've been trying this out. Every time I feel scared, I make myself think This is so exciting. There is something amazing on the other side of this hurdle. It's going to be fabulous.

It really works.

So, if you're still at that I know I need to quit but I'm really scared stage, then try thinking this instead: I'm so excited about starting on this challenge, because life on the other side of it is going to be INCREDIBLE!

And it will be....

Love SM x

Swearing, and Other Tips

I've woken up this morning feeling positive about my ultrasound at the breast clinic today.

Only a few more hours to go, and - after days of feeling increasingly stressed - it'll all be over. Then, next time it won't be so hard.

I've been reminded, yet again, that dealing with anxiety is just like dealing with cravings.

(The feeling is very similar too - a squirming knot in the stomach, constant restlessness and a one tracked mind that won't shut up).

So, I thought I'd share four things that helped me yesterday, as - if you're duelling with the wine witch right now - they might help you too.

1. The Soberverse

The soberverse really is the most amazing place. All your comments on yesterday's post, and your e-mails, meant so much, and really reminded me that I am not alone.

And it can do the same for all of you, too, because you really are not alone.

2. Swearing

If you've been reading my blog for a while, you'll probably have realised that I'm not a big swearer. I'm fond of an occasional bollocks! Partial to a bugger! And occasionally employ a s**t, but, that's about it.

Generally, I think swearing is just a bit lazy and unimaginative. I try to encourage the children to find much more interesting invectives if they're stressed. (Apart from anything else, it's great for the vocabulary).

So, #3 might drop something on her foot and say "Aarrrggghh! Dastardly, pox ridden camel's buttocks!"

You see? Much more fun.

I think this aversion to swearing comes from my childhood. I remember vividly the one occasion when my Dad told my Mum to "f**k off." She left the house, and didn't come back for TWO DAYS. As my Dad couldn't even boil an egg, it was a disaster. None of us ever swore again.

Anyhow, back to the point: Yesterday Soberat53 and Claireperth both said "Fuck cancer!" And I thought, well yes, why the hell not?

So, I went up to my bathroom, locked the door (the children were downstairs) and shouted FUCK FUCK FUCKEDY FUCK FUCK! FUCK RIGHT OFF AND DON'T FUCKING COME BACK, FUCKER.

And, you know what? I felt much, much better.

So, next time the wine witch is bugging you, tell her to eff off. Really loudly. And with foot stamping and fist waving.

3. Eddie the Eagle

If you need some distraction then take the children (or just go by yourself!) to see the Eddie the Eagle film.

It's hysterically funny, plus it's a great tale about tenacity, bravery, and proving the world wrong (see the relevance?).

And the best bit?

Eddie doesn't drink! He managed to jump a 90 metre ski jump, with less than a year's training and the whole world laughing at him, without anything at all to 'take the edge off.'

There's a wonderful scene (that will do more for us sober people than endless government warnings and guidelines) where Eddie goes into a bar and is jeered at by the Finnish ski jump team, in their ridiculous skin tight all in one lurid lycras.

He goes up to the barman and orders....a glass of milk. Genius.

4. Finding something else to worry about

Sometimes, the only thing that will displace a worry is another worry.

#2 has gone off for four nights - the longest he's ever been away from home (he's nine) - on a sailing expedition. It looks amazing - all Swallows and Amazons.

Last night I found his toothbrush in the bathroom.

Personal hygiene is not his forte at the best of times.

So, forget fretting about cancer. I'm too busy worrying that #2 is going to come home with no teeth!

Onwards and upwards, and thank you.

SM x

Mortality

The thing about all this relaxation, and having so much time on your hands, is that you inevitably start thinking.

In my case, I keep being sideswiped by fear of mortality.

This isn't a bad thing - I guess I have to deal with the whole issue eventually, so I might as well start now.

You see, the thing about hormone positive breast cancer is that it can come back. And you can't ever feel safe, because it can lie dormant for ten, fifteen, even twenty years, and then rear its ugly head again.

And the problem is, it can crop up anywhere, but most often in your bones, liver or brain. And when it does, it's incurable. Terminal. End of the line.

(And it's a horrible way to die. Not that slipping away gently in your sleep, wearing your most glamorous nightie and full make up, that we all wish for.)

They can keep it at bay with chemotherapy, but usually not for more than a year or two.

When I'm busy I manage not to dwell on it much, but the fear is always lurking somewhere.

So, here's how I try to think about it:

You know how they say that the definition of madness is doing the same thing over and over and expecting a different result?

Well, I figure that if you get cancer it's often a sign that you were doing something wrong. (Sometimes, I guess, it's just bad luck). And if you carry on living life exactly the same way, it's much more likely to come back.

When my tumour started growing I was filling my body with toxins every single day. The link between alcohol and cancer, particularly breast cancer, is becoming increasingly clear. One day it'll be the new tobacco, and there'll be health warnings on every bottle of wine.

Now I drink water, green tea and smoothies. (And Becks Blue, obviously). I've made not just a tiny adjustment to my lifestyle, but a whopping great U-turn.

The other thing I try to remember is that any of us could be dead in ten, fifteen, twenty years. There are no guarantees. Nothing is certain.

And the flipside of the fear of dying is the joy of living.

When you realise that life might be short it makes you properly appreciate every single day, and not want to squander a second of it.

So, if you're still prevaricating about quitting alcohol and starting to properly live your life, just get on and do it now. Carpe bloody diem. Don't waste any more precious time.

Love SM x

The Party!

So, on Friday night I hosted The Party.

I haven't thrown a big evening drinks party for years. Hosting a party and getting totally plastered yourself are - I'd discovered - rather incompatible, and I couldn't really imagine a party without the latter.

But a big party was, I'd felt, in order.

I wanted to celebrate my birthday (last week), a year sober (this week), and surviving cancer. So I booked a private room above a swanky restaurant for drinks and canapes for seventy five of my friends.

The day leading up to the Big Event I had serious wobbles.

I thought what on earth am I doing throwing a party when I can't even have one glass of champagne to take the edge off? It's too soon! I'm crazy. Plus my dress is all wrong, but I can't afford to buy a new one. In fact, I can't afford the party at all. And no-one's going to have any fun. CANCEL THE WHOLE THING!

I had that squirming knot of anxiety in my stomach all day - the one that I would have drowned out with booze, back in the drinking days. Which is why I'd stopped having parties.

I would have had a glass or two of vino at lunch time (to quieten down the squirming snakes), then another two 'sharpeners' while getting ready. Then at least two while waiting for people to arrive. I'd have hit my 'perfect drunkenness' by about 7.30pm, so by 9pm it'd be seriously messy.

But on Friday I lived with the restless serpents.

I reminded myself that absolutely everything that is really worth doing and game changing in life is accompanied by that feeling.

If you are avoiding anxiety you are not properly living.

I felt the same before every job interview, every date, before getting married, before giving birth, before going off backpacking.

Where would I be now if I'd avoided doing all of those things (or got totally drunk beforehand)?

Anxiety is a sign that you're pushing boundaries, moving forward, grabbing life by the balls. IT IS GOOD.

Mr SM and I turned up ten minutes early, and sat on our own in a big, echoing room for twenty minutes while I sipped my virgin mojito and muttered, through gritted teeth, "nobody's coming!"

An hour later the place was heaving. People exclaiming over old friends, making new ones. I worked the room - chatting to everybody. Introducing people. Feeling the thrill of a party where I knew everyone!

Then, I stood up on a chair (couldn't have done that drunk!) and made a speech, thanking all my friends for their support and help through the cancer thing. I made everyone laugh. I felt the waves of goodwill.

Everyone said I 'looked amazing.' I know they kind of have to say that to the lady who's paying the bar bill and has just recovered from cancer, but I honestly think they meant it. Because - apart from anything else - I'm 21 pounds lighter than this time last year.

Then, at midnight, the bar closed. We had some friends from Scotland staying with us for the event. The four of us walked out onto the street where my car was parked, bang smack outside.

Five minutes into the journey Mr Scot suddenly sat up and yelled "Good God, SM, you're driving! I thought we were in a taxi!"

We got home and paid the babysitter, then the other three had a nightcap while I brewed up a green tea. We exchanged notes about the evening, and I went to bed so buzzed that I couldn't sleep until 2am.

Yesterday I was exhausted, but in a good way - not that awful, toxic, hungover tiredness, but a bone deep, honest exhaustion.

And I honestly can't remember the last time I enjoyed a party more. Yet I'd been totally sober for the whole five hours.

Who knew?

Love SM x

Breast Cancer Clinic

So, I was woken up, on the morning of my appointment at the Breast Cancer Clinic, in a strangely ironic fashion.

The news on the radio was that Dame Sally Davies (the Chief Medical Officer), while giving evidence to a Commons select committee, said the public should contemplate the risks of cancer before drinking alcohol.

"Do as I do when I reach for my glass of wine - think Do I want the glass of wine or do I want to raise my own risk of breast cancer?" She old MPs. "I take a decision each time I have a glass".

(By the way, The Sun newspaper headline on this topic reads: TOP DOCS BARMY ADVICE: IF YOU WANT A GLASS OF WINE, JUST THINK CANCER. They are obviously not, yet, on message!)

Well HURRAH FOR SALLY in flying the flag for non-drinkers. In my case it's rather like slamming the stable door after the horse has bolted. But this is not the case for the majority of you, so pay attention!

I made my way to the clinic where I was greeted like a long lost friend by all the nurses - bless them.

After a stint in the waiting room, checking out the newbies (poor little mites), I was called in by the genius-surgeon-with-terrible-bedside-manner.

He did a recap of all my stats: 23mm, grade 2 invasive lobular carcinoma, negative lymphs, 92% chance of non-recurrence, blah blah blah, after which he invited me to remove all my clothes above the waist.

So, I'm sitting there, with the doc and the breast nurse, half naked, when he decides to have a discussion. He tells me, at what felt like some length, that he wants me to talk to a journalist about my whole breast cancer experience.

I agreed swiftly, just to put an end to the whole half-naked-chitchat thing, and because some warped logic told me that if I was in the news as being 'cured' of breast cancer, it was even more in their interests to keep me alive for as long as possible...

I may live to regret that one. I hadn't planned to become the poster girl for breast cancer, as well as the (secret) one for sobriety.

Anyhow, he copped a feel, which he seemed happy about (in a medical sense, you understand), and told me that I need to come back every April for the foreseeable future for an ultrasound. In addition, I need to come back every October for a mammogram.

AND, on top of that, there's a new blood test for ovarian cancer, so they took a vial from my arm, and told me they'll repeat that one every twelve months too.

Oh, and I see my oncologist every May to have blood tests to check for cancer markers.

So, on the upside, I am going to be monitored to within an inch of my life.

On the downside, every time I go in for one of these tests I have to deal with the flashbacks and anxiety....

....which is why my post tomorrow (inspired by Ulla) is on Managing Anxiety - Sober.

Thank you all so much for all your comments, thoughts and best wishes. It helped hugely knowing you were thinking of me.

(If you're new to this blog, and want to read about my breast cancer 'journey' (hate that expression) from the beginning, then start with this post from October: I Need Help! Or, if you'd like to read from when I first quit drinking then start here, from March: Mummy Was a Secret Drinker)

Love to you all,

SM x

Scared

Back in October and November, when I was a newbie at the breast cancer clinic, and still going through the am I going to die? phase, I used to watch the 'graduates' breeze into the waiting room with a huge degree of envy.

These were the ladies coming back for their check ups. Often they sported short, gamine, post chemo hair styles. They looked confident and healthy. The breast nurses would greet them by name, give them a big hug and make a fuss of them.

Meanwhile, I'd be sitting, pale faced and traumatised, waiting for the results of my MRI scan, or lymph biopsy, or whatever, thinking one day, maybe, that'll be me: through the worst and out the other side.

Well, today it's my turn.

I have an appointment with my consultant, who haven't seen for two months.

The way the whole cancer thing works is like a conveyor belt. Your consultant surgeon does the initial diagnostic work and the operation. They then hand you over to the oncologist. They, in turn, pass you over to the radiotherapist, and when they've done with you, you get sent back to the consultant surgeon again for 'check up and sign off'.

I've been looking forward to it. Because once this one's out of the way, I don't have another hospital appointment for six whole months. I'd been planning to take chocolates for the nurses, and make a mini party out of the event.

But now I'm scared.

What if I don't graduate? What if I discover that I've failed, that I'm not 'all clear' and I have to start again at the beginning?

I've just started to move on from the whole cancer thing. It's been feeling a bit like that episode of Dallas, where Bobby steps out of the shower and realises that the whole of the previous series has been a dream. It all feels like the last three months all happened to someone else.

My lefty is all healed, and looking pretty good (well, it wasn't perfect to start off with, but at least it doesn't scare the children if they walk in when I'm having a bath). At the moment, I seem to have virtually no Tamoxifen side effects. I'm pretty much back to 'normal'.

Right now, I have that familiar knot of anxiety in my stomach (the one that feels very much like an alcohol craving). In fact, if it wasn't ten thirty in the morning I'd crack open a Becks Blue.

I'd reassured Mr SM, breezily, that he didn't need to take time off work to come with me, as it was all 'routine.' Now I'm regretting that.

I can't go over it. I can't go under it. I have to go through it.

Wish me luck.

SM x

Days 30-100

Tomorrow is the end of January.

This means that many of you will be on or around day 30. Perhaps you only intended to quit for one month, and you're already gearing up for a humdinger of a party?

DON'T DO IT!

30 days is awesome work, but you've only just scratched the surface of all the benefits you get from staying sober. This is not it. You have to keep going....

I thought you might like a guide to the next phase: Days 30-100, and I'm hoping that my readers who've been through it already will chip in with their wisdom in the comments section below. So, here goes:

Days 30-100

First off, HUGE CONGRATULATIONS! You've done the first month, and it's by far the most physically gruelling.

By now, I hope, you're sleeping like a baby, and your energy levels are improving. Maybe, now there are no hangovers, you're learning to love mornings again?

You probably haven't lost much weight yet (sugar cravings, anyone?), but I bet you LOOK different. Bright eyed, dewy skinned, less puffy.

Maybe the cravings are getting a bit better too - probably just as powerful, but less frequent. Once a day, rather than all day.

By now you're detoxed. Your liver is doing high fives and thanking you profusely. You are all sparkly and clean.

But now, I'm afraid, the hard work begins.....

Because days 30-100 are all about introspection. Endless naval gazing. The asking of all those big questions like how did I end up in this mess? Who am I (without alcohol)? Who was I (before alcohol)? Where do I want to be? How the hell do I get there?

If, like me, you're British, then the idea of any form of self analysis is anathema. My response to any big LIFE questions was "Pass the bottle!"

It is horribly uncomfortable for all of us life-avoiders, but it's inevitable when you strip your comfort blankets away, and you'll come out the other side a stronger, better and more aware person.

(For more about how this all feels, from when I was going through it, click here)

The other big theme of days 30-100 is learning to deal with fear and anxiety.

Up to day 30, you're so far down in the trenches, and the cravings come so thick and fast, that it's difficult to see any pattern.

But now you'll start to see that there are some major triggers, and the biggies are fear and anxiety.

We get so used to dealing with these uncomfortable emotions by blotting them out that we forget how to cope with them. And if you spend long enough avoiding coping with fear, you find - eventually - that you've completely lost your courage.

Days 30-100 are about tackling fear and anxiety (and all the other nasty emotions like envy, self doubt, boredom, etc) without any props, but in doing so you will, slowly, slowly find your courage returning, and - with it - your self respect.

(For more on this, from my Day 77, click here)

So, once you've done all the introspection and all the dealing with bad stuff sober, you also have to cope with other people.

It's normal for the first month (especially if it's January) to hunker down and not go out much. And if people ask you about your 'not drinking' you can shrug off the question easily - you're detoxing/having a month off/Dry January etc.

But, eventually, you have to start socialising again.

This one takes a while. I still don't have quite the same level of anticipation about social events, but it's gradually coming back.

My advice, and it's controversial, for the early days is to fake it till you make it. The last thing you need when you're still feeling fragile is to have someone grilling you about why you can't have 'just one.'

So I suggest you lie (I'm driving/on antibiotics/detoxing) or fake (drink virgin cocktails, let them fill your wine glass and don't touch it) for a while.

I realise that this is not ideal, but the truth is society is really screwed up about alcohol, and we non drinkers are made to feel like the ones with the problem, not the addicts still quaffing away.

For more on how to cope with, and actually enjoy, partying sober read: Sober Mummy's Party Survival Guide.

Over the next sixty days, you'll find that you get fewer and fewer cravings, but when they do hit they're almost harder to deal with because they're from left field. You're not expecting them.

This phase really is a rollercoaster. You'll have wonderful, pink cloudy days of real euphoria, and some days of despair. That's perfectly normal.

It's known as Post Acute Withdrawal Syndrome (PAWS), and you can read more about it here.

It's all a bit like my favourite children's book: Going on a Lion Hunt:

You can't go over it, you can't go under it, you've got to go through it.

But, after all those ups and downs and insides and outsides you'll find yourself gradually shedding off all those ugly duckling feathers, and one day you'll catch your reflection in the pond and you'll think "Why, I'm a swan!"

By Day 100 it won't be so hard anymore. And you'll be braver, slimmer, nicer, a better parent. Your life will be easier, more fulfilled, and going somewhere.

So keep going, bird by bird, until you find your inner swan.

Love SM x

Fear of the Unknown

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.

SM x

The Escape Hatch

I can't thank you all enough for all your messages and e-mails yesterday. They made me cry. A lot. (In a good way). It felt like a global bear hug from a group of amazing, strong, warm, and kind people, and I am completely overwhelmed.

I am so sorry that I have not yet replied to any of them. Please forgive me.

For decades I have used booze as an escape hatch, a 'beam me up, Scotty' whenever I needed a fast exit from a hostile planet.

And yesterday I really needed an escape hatch, or a teleport.

A few months, maybe only a few weeks, ago, I would never have imagined I could get over a major hurdle without alcohol. I would have accepted that, in this instance, needs must. I would have decided to put the 'not drinking thing' on hold, and come back to it later when I'm feeling stronger.

But not yesterday. You see, the last (nearly) eight months have made me realise that there really is one thing harder than dealing with a major trauma without alcohol, and that's trying to do it with alcohol.

My last big health scare was about twelve years ago. I still remember it vividly. I drank my way through it. I managed to not think about it during waking hours (thanks to the escape hatch), but I'd wake up at 3am with the night horrors, then spend four hours tormenting myself.

Because of the constant escaping, I put everything off for as long as possible, thereby spinning the whole process out and making it far more painful than it needed to be (see my post on Procrastination).

If I had downed two bottles of wine yesterday (which I could have done very easily), then on top of all the general angst I would have had a truly awful night, followed by a day of doing nothing but hating myself and hating my situation.

Instead I managed to get five hours sleep. When I was awake I was anxious, but logical. As soon as the 'phone lines opened I called my GP and booked the first appointment on Monday morning. Then I called a knowledgeable friend and got the number of the best boob guy at the Royal Marsden, in case I need it. And I managed to do a good show of 'normal Mum' for the kids.

The reality is that the booze escape hatch is a bit like the one in a James Bond Movie. You think you've found an easy way out of the villain's lair, but you find yourself falling into an underground pool filled with hungry sharks.

I also discovered that it's true what they say about quitting booze giving you the strength and the tools to do anything. Because now I am one hell of a lot better at dealing with fear (see post on Anxiety and Courage). And banishing that voice in your head which constantly says you are going to die! is pretty much exactly the same as banishing the wine witch. The same distraction, visualisation and self care techniques work a treat.

I did do some macabre thinking. I had a long car journey today during which I planned my memorial service. It was just like my old game of deciding what I'd choose as my Desert Island Disks, but more morbid. (In case you're interested, I'm definitely having The Owl and the Pussycat as a reading, and will insist on them playing my song for Mr SM - Flowers in the Window by Travis).

(I also have to confess to drinking 6 Becks Blues and not eating anything. On the upside, I lost 2 pounds in 24 hours - yay!).

So, I'm fine. The odds, as many of you pointed out, are in my favour. But, if I end up with the short straw, I know that I am strong. I have you amazing people. I have one of the best cancer hospitals in the world just down the road. I can manage without hair if necessary. I can heal myself and help my Aunt too.

It's just a case of baby steps. One day at a time. Sound familiar?

If you're just starting out on this journey, then remember: you're not just changing your life by getting sober; you're also giving yourself the tools to deal with anything. And you never know when you might need them....

You rock. You are my rock.

SM x

Feel the Fear...

When I first quit drinking, I read a blog written by a bloke who'd been sober for about a year (which seemed, back then, like an impossibly long time). He said that the two books which really helped him were Jason Vale's 'Kick the Drink, Easily', and Susan Jeffers book 'Feel The Fear And Do It Anyway.'

I understood the Jason Vale recommendation: he is a God, and should be knighted for services to over-enthusiastic drinkers everywhere.

But Feel The Fear? I'd heard of this book. It was a best selling self help tome, published twenty five years ago, but I really couldn't see the relevance. So I rather dismissed this recommendation, assuming that the blogger had terrible mental health issues.

But now I get it. Now I realise that fear, and it's lesser cousin, anxiety, are my biggest triggers. So I read the book.

Yesterday I came this close (holding thumb and forefinger a millimetre apart) to pouring a drink.

This hasn't happened to me for months. I've had bad days. I had glums and PAWS (see Post Acute Withdrawal Symptoms). I've had days when I've been really, really fed up about not drinking and thought 'why me? What's the point, anyway?' etcetera. But I haven't had to physically sit on my hands to stop myself throwing in the towel. Not for a long time.

So why yesterday?

Well, about a year ago I started writing a novel. Nothing super literary and clever. Just an adventure story for teenage girls, featuring a kick ass heroine (who doesn't drink, obviously).

I think it was writing the book that made me want to quit drinking. I realised that I really wanted to make something of my life, which wasn't going anywhere.

I finished the book at the end of February, then quit drinking. Since then I haven't even looked at it - I've just been focussing on the blog, and on staying sober.

Then, yesterday, I dusted off the manuscript, and re-read the first few chapters. I'd resolved to enter it for a children's book award for unpublished authors. This meant (for the first stage) submitting a one page synopsis and the first 3,000 words.

I was terrified. I feared re-reading it and discovering that it was completely crap. I feared rejection.  I feared having my dream stomped on.

And I really, really, really wanted a drink. To take the fear away.

So I re-read some of Susan Jeffers book.

There are many people who swear this book has changed their lives, and I guess they all take away something slightly different.

The main lesson I took from it is that the only thing to really fear is doing nothing.

I had got used to hiding in my protective bubble. What I hadn't realised was that it wasn't actually a cosy bubble, but a rut. And I was stuck in it. Because avoiding fear means going nowhere.

Here are the five key lessons from the book:

1. So long as you continue to grow, you will always feel fear. No fear means no growth.
2. The only way to properly get rid of fear is to go out and do 'it' (whatever it is that you fear). Then 'it' won't scare you any more.
3. There's no point delaying until you feel better/stronger, because you'll never feel better/stronger until you do 'it'.
4. Everyone else is scared too.
5. Pushing through the fear is less frightening than living in a state of helplessness.

Susan tells you that you have to think of the worst that can happen, and realise that you can cope. And I realised that the worst thing that could happen to me, in this case, was that the book would not win the award, and never be published.

But, hell, that's where I am anyway! If I carry on doing nothing because I'm too scared then, obviously, nothing IS going to happen!

So I entered the book for the award. And I have two more awards with deadlines coming up that I'm also going to enter.

And I didn't have that drink. And today I feel stronger. And less scared.

So, my friends: Feel the fear, and do it anyway!

Love SM x

Related Post: Anxiety and Courage

The Lies Alcohol Tells

I've been thinking about Michael Jackson's face. (Bear with me, it does become relevant!)

When I was at boarding school, I had a poster of the young Michael Jackson on my wall. It was the days just before Thriller, when he was properly black, with afro hair and a slightly squishy nose.

He was gorgeous. I would lie on my bed, staring up at him and imagine what our babies would look like.

But Michael never thought he looked good. He didn't like his hair, his skin, his nose, his chin or his eyes.

So Michael discovered plastic surgery. It promised him a solution to all his self esteem issues. And initially it did what it promised. He liked his nose more, his paler skin, his straighter hair and his sculpted chin. But he still wasn't happy, so he did more and more...

Bit by bit, Michael hacked away at all his perfect features until, one day, he must have looked in the mirror and discovered that instead of making himself perfect, he'd turned into the freak he'd always feared.

The surgery he thought was the solution had caused a horrible problem.

He must, surely, have realised that his original self - before he listened to all those surgeons - was actually pretty perfect.

That's what alcohol does. It promises to be the solution to all your problems. Then, one day, you realise that, actually, it's made all your problems much worse, and that the person you had been - before you started on this road - was actually pretty amazing.

Here are some of the lies we believe:

I will give you courage!

To start with, a shot of 'dutch courage' does seem to do the trick. But then, we get so used to using alcohol as a prop that, without it, we become complete cowards. We retreat into our own little worlds, clutching our bottles, unwilling and unable to take any risks in our lives.

I will give you confidence!

And you do feel more confident in the beginning. But pretty soon you become a bag of fear and anxiety. Unable to cope with anything much without your crutch. You're bloated, overweight, not sleeping and eating junk.

I will make you popular!

And, initially, we are life and soul of the party. But over time we become more and more boring. Self obsessed. Sometimes badly behaved and rude. We look around and realise that the only friends we have are other 'big drinkers.'

I will calm your anxiety!

And so it does - to start. That little knot in your stomach just dissolves after the first few glugs. But then you find you're anxious pretty much all the time! Because the need for a drink causes exactly the same build up of anxiety that it then releases. Plus, you have a hell of a lot more to be anxious about! Your life is a mess.

I will help you sleep!

A few glasses of wine before bed and - bang - out like a light. Only to wake up again at 3am as your poor body tries to process all that booze. Tossing, turning, sweating and hating yourself.

Like Michael Jackson, one day we look in the mirror and think: what have I done? What have I become? All the things I thought alcohol would give me, it's taken away.

You look back at your teenage self and think Wow! I was amazing. Gorgeous, popular, confident, strong. Why couldn't I see that?

But, the good news is, unlike Michael Jackson you can turn back the clock. You can get it all back: courage, confidence, popularity, calmness and sleep.

All you need to do is to see the lies for what they are, and step away from the bottle.

I'm back online!

Love SM x

Related posts: Anxiety and Courage, Sleep, glorious sleep,

Anxiety and Courage

Day 77! Eleven weeks.

Having posted yesterday on books, I've been thinking about (and re-reading bits of) Jason Vale's 'Kick the Drink.'

When I first read this book it was a revelation. I began to realise, for the first time, that life without alcohol might just be, not only bearable, but actually enjoyable. Throughout the book I was nodding away. It all made sense. Well nearly all of it.

There was one bit of Jason's logic that just didn't ring quite true. Jason writes that alcohol has zero benefits. He asserts that your problems are actually caused by the drink, not solved by them.

Now I had many 'triggers' that made me reach for the bottle - feeling miserable, feeling happy, feeling stressed, feeling anxious etc etc. And alcohol really did help.

But Jason says that your negative emotions are, at least in part, caused by the drink. Heavy drinkers are, he argues, constantly experiencing withdrawal symptoms when they are not drinking, and these exacerbate the feelings of stress, anxiety and depression. If you quit, he argues, you will feel as good as you used to after a few drinks all of the time.

Nice logic, I thought, but you're pushing it a bit. Alcohol may be evil in many ways, but it does have some positive effects.

But now, after 77 days (count 'em - yay!), I am starting to get what he means. Here's why:

I found, in the last few years, that I was getting increasingly anxious. About stupid little things. I'd have mini panic attacks about nothing.

If I had some (slightly) bad or annoying news via 'phone or e-mail I would get a knot of anxiety in my stomach. It would wriggle away there like a tapeworm. And the best way to kill it, or at least to numb it for a while, was to drown it in Sauvignon Blanc.

This bothered me. I'd run huge global ad campaigns with multi million pound budgets. I'd managed a group of around sixty employees. And here I was getting totally stressed out about a patch of damp in a bedroom, a tax return or a less than perfect school report.

I thought maybe I was just out of practice, getting old or peri-menopausal. I didn't blame the drink. In fact I thought the drink was the solution, not the problem.

But I realised last week that I hadn't felt that noxious knot in the stomach for ages. I'd had a number of issues crop up - don't we all - and I'd just dealt with them.

When you drown your problems they don't go away, they just get forgotten for a bit, fester and get worse. Then your inability to deal with them effectively destroys your confidence even more. It's like you're Superman and someone's stuffed kryptonite down your pants.

When you deal with your problems sober, straight away, your confidence grows. You find the kryptonite hiding it plain sight, chuck it away and feel your power returning.

Going to my college reunion the other night reminded me of how brave and fearless I used to be. Nothing fazed me.

And it's coming back. Oh yeah, baby.

Take that kryptonite out of your underwear and have a great weekend all!

SM x