Will I Lose All My Friends? Part 2

One of the areas of sober life that I'm still getting to grips with is socialising.

I still find parties a bit odd. Funnily enough, I don't find myself drawn like a magnet to the bar. I'm happy with a diet coke. Deliriously so if they serve a virgin mojito. But I do feel a bit 'scratchy'. Like I'm on the outside looking in.

On the upside, I always get to drive home. I don't have to worry about slurring, accidentally insulting anyone, constantly having to queue for the loo, or banging into furniture. I don't wake up the next morning feeling like death and dredging the memory banks to see what I have to hate myself for.

And parties are getting easier, but they're still a work in progress.

This was a big concern of mine in the early days. Back on day 13 I wrote a post called Will I Lose All My Friends? (click here). I was worried that, without the drink, people would find me unbelievably dull, and would gradually drift away.

I realise now that the mistake I made was to assume that most socialising has to happen at parties, or, at least, in the evening.

Looking at my diary this week, I have a social event every single day.  At least one. But I only have one drinks party. The rest are mid week lunches with girlfriends, coffee and cake dates and long rambling dog walks. And - you know what? This type of 'socialising' is completely transforming my friendships.

When I relied on parties to catch up with friends, I found that you would only ever chat to one person for fifteen minutes. Tops. And you'd only cover the basics. Plus, once I'd had a few drinks it was all about me, me, me. Even if someone did give me some details about their own lives I'd forget them.

Party conversations in my neck of the woods revolve around the same general topics:

(1) Children and schools. Especially the 11+ and Common Entrance exams. To tutor, or not to tutor? Which/how many after school activities to arrange. Gripes about the nanny/au pair.

(2) House prices and home improvements. The problems with builders. The next door neighbour's triple decker basement dig out. Side returns. (Never heard of a side return? Count yourself lucky...).

(3) Where you're going on holiday. Also an opportunity to boast about the second home, and the children's prowess at skiing/French/scuba diving.

The other big conversational topic is gossip. I was a big fan. There's nothing that we people with dark, festering secrets love more than hearing about the imperfections of other people's lives. I especially loved tales of anyone deemed to have an addiction issue. Yay! I'd think. See - I'm not that bad. And even if I am, at least I'm not the only one....

 But this endless, mindless chitter chatter, one upmanship and gossip is bad for the soul. And it doesn't nourish friendships.

I remember when I was a teenager, and in my early twenties, I used to spend hours with girlfriends discussing the meaning of life. We knew each other inside out and back to front. We'd exchange hopes, dreams and fears ad infinitum.

Then, for the last decade or so, we'd just meet up at parties and spend ten minutes talking about whose au pair was shagging their husband, and whether it made more sense to do a basement conversion or develop the attic.

But now, I might not be so brilliant at parties, but almost every day I spend an hour with a good friend. We talk about stuff that matters. I listen. I remember. I send them a text wishing them luck on the day of a big job interview. I take round flowers when they're not feeling well. I'm starting to be a good friend again.

I'd completely forgotten the truth that, with friendships, as with life, you get back what you put in. If you see your friendships as merely a source of idle gossip, then you can't rant and rave when it transpires that that's all you are to them.

The question I really should have asked myself isn't 'Will I lose all my friends?' but 'How on earth do I have any friends left?'

Love to you all,

SM x

Sober Conversations

Day 68. The numbers are slowing clocking up, and it is getting easier....

Last night I went out with some of the Mums from #3's class (Year 1). I've known these ladies now for a year and a half, and this was about the eighth social we've had in that time.

We met in a local restaurant. I ordered a diet coke. I said that I was focussing on being 'beach body ready' for the summer. What a joke! I haven't been 'beach body ready' for twenty years!

In any case, we always go to Cornwall in the summer, so I end up encased in a full body wetsuit, not a teensy weensy bikini. 'Beach body ready' in Cornwall actually involves laying down as much subcutaneous fat as possible as insulation!

Anyhow, no-one batted an eyelid at my ridiculous excuse, they just accepted it and moved on.

Yet again, I realised how little everyone drank. One or two glasses each. In the old days I would have drunk half a bottle 'while getting ready' and at least another half bottle over dinner. (I noticed that the bill was a lot lower with me on the diet coke!).

I started chatting to one of the Mums who I like, but only know through the school. "I'm so sorry," I say, "but I can't remember the name of your little girl, Tom's sister."

"Lily," she says, somewhat icily. I take it I've asked her this question a number of times before.

"Oh, yes, so sorry! Isn't she starting school in September?" I ask, trying to make up ground.

"She's already there." More icy.

"Of course she is! So she'll be going to the Upper School soon?" I'm starting to panic. She's looking really unimpressed.

"She's already at the Upper School. Year 3." Oh bollocks. And the problem is that I couldn't even neck a glass of wine to take the edge of my embarrassment.

I realise that I must have had all of these conversations a number of times over the last few years and just totally forgotten all the details. Plus, after a few drinks, I'd get stuck on 'transmit' rather than 'receive.' Another person speaking was just a chance for me to work out what to say next.

I had honestly believed that everyone I knew drank (almost) as much as me. But now I wonder whether we heavy drinkers just manage to surround ourselves by other heavy drinkers because we feel more comfortable with them. Perhaps they are the only people who actually want to hang out with us.

I wrote a post a while ago titled 'Will I Lose all my Friends?' I wonder now whether there may have been many potential friendships that went totally by the wayside due to my drunken inability to show any genuine interest in anybody else.

I may well lose some of my drunken friendships, but perhaps I'll pick up a lot of more sober ones.

I came home, somewhat humbled, chastened and reflective, and watched the election results come in with the husband and a mug of hot chocolate.

By the way, with all the UK election coverage I've been thinking of a previous Prime Minister - Winston Churchill, and his huge fondness for a drink. If you missed my post on exactly how much Winnie managed to drink each day, then follow this link: Why Ex-Drinkers Rock - Part 2.

Happy Friday to you all!

SM