Self Esteem

There's a scene in the documentary Drinking to Oblivion that, even weeks later, is still haunting me.

(See my post: Drinking to Oblivion)

One of the alcoholics who Louis Theroux spent time with was a young woman with the most appalling boyfriend. He taunted her with stories of the other women he was shagging, and constantly put her down, to her face and in front of the camera.

When, finally, Louis asked her why she didn't leave him she replied "who else would want a fat drunk like me?"

This is another of the terrible contradictions of alcohol. We drink it to give us confidence, but it gradually leeches away all of our self esteem.

AA have a saying along the lines of alcohol gives you wings, then takes away the sky.

The problem is that the less self esteem you possess, the more difficult it is to quit. Which is why it is so crucial to get off the slippery slope before you hit rock bottom.

In order to quit you need to be able to believe you can do it, and believe you are worth it.

If you're in the early days of quitting, then it really helps to consciously work on your self esteem.

For example, if you're plagued with insecurities at wine o'clock (I can't do this, it's too hard. I haven't got the strength) then try visualisation (See my post: I am Khaleesi).

If you find yourself thinking what's the point anyway? I'm so old/dull/insert your adjective, I might as well just carry on drinking then think back to your pre-drinking days and remind yourself what a brilliant person you are.

Find a picture of a young, happy, vibrant you (see my post: Picture a Young You) and stick it on the fridge.

Ask your children to describe you, and stick those words on too (be warned: my kids usually come up with words like 'saggy boobs' and 'big bum'. You need to ignore those ones).

You owe it to the younger you, and you owe it to the super-hero Mum in your kids heads, the one who can heal all wounds with a kiss and has an answer to every question, to nail this thing.

Since I've been thinking about self esteem, I started a new project. I've called it the You're Awesome Project.

My kids love table plans. The rule in the SM house is that whoever lays the table gets to decide the seating plan (this is v good for my self esteem as it always involves sitting next to Mummy, even if I do have saggy boobs and a big bum).

Every family meal we end up writing out little place names, and then losing them. So, I decided that each time anyone has a birthday, I will give them a plate, hand painted by me at the local pottery café, with their name on it.

Then I got a bit carried away, and I decided to paint thirty adjectives, all round the rim of that plate, to describe why that person is awesome.

I've just finished Mr SM's plate The smalls all helped choose the words, which include: kind, cuddly and hero. But also descriptors like James Bond expert, soufflé supremo, skydiver and cable guy. Plus, since we're being truthful here, my personal favourite: folically challenged.

So now, whenever we have a family dinner, not only do we all know where we're sitting, but we're all reminded of what makes us awesome.

What's not to like?

Love SM x

Drinking to Oblivion

That was the title of a Louis Theroux documentary on the BBC last night.

(If you missed it then do try to catch it on iPlayer).

Louis spent weeks following four alcoholics at the Kings College liver unit. All were gradually killing themselves. Some were closer to death than others.

It was a brilliant, but harrowing, programme.

It would be so easy to look at those people and think that's just not me, but, actually, I found - terrifyingly - that the similarities were, in many ways, greater than the differences.

The popular view of 'alcoholism' is that a small proportion of people have an illness which makes drinking 'normally' impossible for them. For everyone else, drinking is relatively harmless.

This documentary just re-enforced, for me, that this is just not the case. The difference between the heavy drinking 'wine connoisseur' and the low bottom drunk is actually paper thin.

There is no black and white to alcohol addiction, just shades of grey. The one certainty is that it only gets worse, and if you don't quit before it's too late, the Kings College liver unit (or similar) is where you end up.

Louis met Stuart, who was told he had around three months to live, due to cirrhosis of the liver. We saw him having ten litres of vile fluid drained from his distended belly.

Then we saw Joe, who was only thirty two (I think), and was going through a seven day medically supervised detox. Several days in and he still couldn't walk, and was shaking terribly.

Any toxin that can totally destroy people physically in that way cannot possibly be harmless in any quantities.

Another really frightening aspect of the documentary was the way it showed how, little by little, alcohol strips you of everything.

Joe had had a girlfriend, a lively social life, a good job and a lovely flat. He'd lost all of them. He was completely isolated, homeless and unemployed.

But, as their lives became emptier and emptier, there was always something there to fill the gaps - the booze.

Until, eventually, alcohol became their only friend, like the gargantuan cuckoo that pushes everything else out of the nest. And then, the idea of losing the only thing they have left becomes unthinkable.

As one lady said, she'd rather die. And she will.

I watched all of this thinking, sure, that isn't me. But I can see how it could have been.

I didn't have incurable cirrhosis, but I was two stone overweight with a malignant breast tumour.

I didn't need a seven day medical detox to quit, but quitting was still one of the hardest things I've ever done.

I didn't lose my friends, my home  and my job, but my life was gradually becoming emptier and emptier, with booze insidiously filling in all the cracks left behind.

I wasn't there, but I was on the way.

The one thing you really don't want to do is to look at the rock bottom alcoholic and think that's not me, using that as reassurance to carry on (as I'm sure many, many viewers did yesterday as they quaffed their bucket sized glasses of chardonnay).

Because, once you're addicted, it's the way you're heading, and the closer you get, the scarier it is, the more damage you're doing to yourself and your life, and the harder it is to stop.

And here's a salutary tale: lovely Joe had been alcohol free for four and a half years. He said he thought he was older and wiser now. He didn't want to go back to drinking vast amounts, he just wanted to have a glass or two of wine with dinner....

.....but we all know that you don't spend years going gradually back downhill; all it takes is a few drinks and whoompf, you're teleported back to just where you left off, or worse. And within weeks Joe was back in A&E in a poorer state than ever.

(See my post: Relapse Stories)

Interestingly, Louis Theroux, in his interviews with the media about the documentary, confessed to drinking two gin and tonics and three glasses of wine every night.  He also said that at weekends he could easily drink two bottles of wine after lunch.

Now, presuming that those were three fairly large glasses of vino, he's drinking exactly the amount that I was before I quit. And I know that that is not healthy. Mentally or physically.

So please, next time you fancy a quick drink, watch that documentary and - I promise - you won't want to any more...

(On a cheerier note, the new series of Game of Thrones starts tonight! I am beyond excited).

Love SM x