How Cancer Changed my Life

It's been three years since I finished my treatment for breast cancer, and yesterday I had a meeting with my oncologist to discuss my latest blood tests.

I have, he told me, 'a perfect set of bloods.' I don't have a perfect set of boobs any longer, obviously, but you can't have everything.

This, my friends, means that I am, as far as we can tell, still cancer free.

I swore, when I was first diagnosed, that if I was lucky enough to survive this, I would never, ever become one of those irritating people who said that cancer was the best thing that happened to them.

I still stand by that. Cancer was the very worst thing that has ever happened to me and my family, and I wouldn't wish it on anyone.

However, in many ways my life is so much better now than it was before my diagnosis.

I am Grateful

Many studies have shown that feeling grateful is really good for our mental health. It's so easy to send life feeling constantly dissatisfied with our lives, and to forget the important things, like health and family.

I can never forget. Because three times a year I have checks at the boob clinic.

The night before this check-up, I lay in bed mulling over the usual issues of the day, like whether my son will ever get to grips with French grammar, and where my daughter's hockey mouth guard had disappeared to, and it struck me that in twenty-four hours I might be worrying about how long I had to live instead. From one day to the next, your life can change irrevocably.

Every four months I am reminded that having your health and your family is a precious gift that we can never take for granted.

I Don't Sweat the Small Stuff

I used to stress out about the smallest things. Everything had to be perfect.

A cancer diagnosis puts things into perspective. Once you've had to stare death in the face and think about your children growing up without a mother, a parking ticket or a less than perfect school report seem utterly insignificant.

I'm still not an entirely laid back mother, but I'm much more so.

I'm More Empathetic

We are always so quick to judge each other, and to get angry when we think that someone has treated us badly in some way.

Dealing with cancer makes you realise that everyone has their own stuff going on - a sick parent, a troubled child, a mean boss. Sometimes, just getting to the end of the day is a triumph. No-one can be expected to be perfect.

I Have a 'Fuck-it Button'

My life has totally transformed over the last three years. There were always many things I wanted to do with my life, but I thought there was plenty of time. I'd get around to it one day, when the time was right.

I was also paralysed by the fear of failure.

Since I was a child, I'd wanted to write, but I worried that I didn't have time, that I would never be good enough, that I'd be rejected or, worse, laughed at.

Since the cancer thing, however, I've developed a 'fuck-it button.'

Now, whenever I hear that little voice of doubt saying you can't, I reply FUCK IT! What's the worst that can happen? I'm not going to DIE (yet), and if I don't do it now, I might run out of time, because who knows what's around the next corner.

So, I published the story of that year of my life - the year I quit drinking, and then got cancer, The Sober Diaries (click here for my Amazon page). And, next year, my debut novel is being published.

I told this story to my oncologist yesterday, and he said that many of his breast cancer survivors have gone on to do extraordinary things.

But it's not just about cancer.

Whatever trauma you are dealing with in your life right now, know this: when you get out the other side (which you will), you will be stronger, happier, nicer and - what's more - you'll be a superhero.

Love to you all,

SM x

The Secret to Happiness

Whenever anyone asks me what I most want for my children, my answer is to be happy. And isn't that what we want for ourselves too, above everything else?

Well, I've read several books and countless articles on the secret of happiness, and one thing comes up again and again: Gratitude.

This is particularly important for we addicts, especially those of you who have only recently quit drinking.

The reason we love alcohol so much, the thing that makes us crave it more and more is dopamine. 

Dopamine is the feel-good hormone that is released in the brain whenever we reach for that glass of vino.

When we quit drinking, our brain really misses that dopamine, which is one of the reasons you'll often crave chocolate - sugar releases dopamine too.

But here's the good news: there's a really easy way to get the same dopamine hit, without all the downsides of alcohol like hangovers and self-hatred, and without mainlining cake: Gratitude.

Feeling grateful increases your levels of serotonin too, in exactly the same way Prozac does. It's nature's natural anti-depressant.

I know what you're thinking: that's all well and good, but what if you can't think of anything to be grateful for?

Sometimes life just really is a bit miserable. Everything is going wrong, and the last thing is the world you feel is GRATEFUL.

Well, here's a wonderful trick:

Remember when you wanted what you currently have.

I saw that written on Facebook, or Instagram, or a t-shirt - I can't remember. What I do remember is it getting stuck in my head and having a profound impact on me.

It's so easy to constantly strive for the next thing, always looking ahead and feeling miserable when we can't clear the next hurdle.

The crucial thing is to look back from time to time, and to see how far you've come.

For example, I have (many) days when my children are driving me crazy and I'm just exhausted with it all.

So, now I make myself remember my two early miscarriages, how utterly devastated I was and how all I wanted in the whole world was to be pregnant. I told myself that if my husband and I could have children I would never, ever want for anything else.

I remember when I was first diagnosed with breast cancer and thought I might die pretty soon. The only thing I wanted was to be around for long enough to see my children reach adulthood.

I remember when we bought our first flat, and just a couple of months later there was a fire in the flat two floors above us, and the whole house nearly burnt down. I remember thinking that the only thing that was important was a roof over your head.

If you're struggling with the early months of being sober, remember when the thing you most wanted was to just get through a whole week without a drink.

The truth is that when the s**t hits the fan, we realise that all we really want is the simple things: family, health, a home.

However bad things seem, if you can remember to be grateful for these things, for anything, you will feel happier. The more often you find something to be grateful for, the easier it gets and the happier you feel. Simple.

If you'd like to read more about how to feel happy without booze, then there's a wonderful article from Time Magazine going up on the SoberMummy Facebook page this evening. (If you 'like' the page, Facebook will keep you updated).

For the story of my first year sober, with all its ups and downs, read The Sober Diaries. Click here if you're in the UK, here for USA and here for Australia.

Love to you all!

SM x

Sober Birthdays

As IT'S MY BIRTHDAY, I thought it would be a good time to reflect on birthdays past (drunk) and present (sober)...

In the last of the drinking years, I'd begun to greet birthdays with a mixture of excitement and dread.

I'd be excited because a birthday is one of the only days of the year when you can properly let your hair down without any guilt or remorse. On a birthday, anything goes, and you have to be forgiven any bad behaviour, right?

But I'd dread birthdays too. Another year gone of nothing much changing and nothing much happening. More broken promises and unfulfilled dreams.

And I knew that it was likely to spin out of control. Which it inevitably did...

I would wake up on my birthday morning, and have to cope with three very excited children with a hangover. Because the night before had been the eve of my birthday! A great excuse to indulge a little more than normal.

And a little more than normal was an awful lot!

Then, because of said hangover, and said birthday, I would - obviously - have a long, boozy lunch.

By the time the evening celebrations rolled around, I'd already have drunk a bottle of wine, and would be well into the second, which meant that half way through the party/dinner/whatever I was up to, I'd be slurring, forgetful, confused and sleepy, and a terrible host.

I'd collapse into bed (possibly before the last guests had left), and then wake up with the 3am horrors, trying to remember which secrets I'd spilled and who I might have upset.

The next day would be ghastly.

The morning after my birthday party three years ago was the day I quit drink for good, and you can read about how awful it was on page one of The Sober Diaries. 

(If you click here, you can read the first few chapters for free with the 'Look Inside' feature).

My first sober birthday, nearly a year later, was a little bit hard. It's difficult not to remember, with rose՛tinted glasses, the ghosts of birthdays past, and to feel a little nostalgic....

....but since then, sober birthdays have been AMAZING.

This morning, I woke up feeling perky, but pretended to be asleep as I could hear the pattering of tiny feet and whispering outside the bedroom door.

I could be genuinely excited as three children and the terrier all piled into our ancient, creaking bed, and Mr SM produced bacon, eggs, coffee and presents on a tray.

I realise now that birthdays are as much about the children as they are about me, and today I can spend the whole day on the same level as them, not looking for ways to escape with a glass of vino.

Kit's birthday present to me is having his hair cut.

He's been resisting this for weeks, and his hair has got so long that he can barely see. As I type this, he's in the barber with his dad, and I'm looking forward to receiving his three inch long sideburns tied in a ribbon... It may be another year before I can get him in there again, so I'm going to make the most of it.

This evening, after birthday tea with the kids, Mr SM and I are going out for dinner and to the theatre in the West End.

It's going to be brilliant, and I won't wake up part way through the play to find that I've fallen asleep on the stranger next to me and am drooling on his shoulder (this did happen once, back in the day).

And I can spend the evening reflecting on a year when I did stuff. Stuff that mattered. 

I faced my fears and exposed all my secrets and vulnerabilities to the world, then discovered that my story was changing people's lives, which is the best birthday present ever.

And I'll fall asleep, tired, happy and sober.

Happy birthday to me, and love to all of you.

SM x

Merry Christmas Everyone!

Dear Friends,

I just wanted to wish you all the merriest of merry Christmases, and to thank you all for all your incredible support over the last few years and for making this community such a happy, helpful and welcoming place.

(In the (nearly) three years I've been writing here, and despite 1.5 million page views, there have only been one or two fights, which is incredible given the amount of trolling that usually goes on over the internet).

To those of you who have battled with the wine witch and won - you are superheroes. You are Ripley, flame bombing the alien mother, you are Katniss Everdene with her bow and arrows, you are Wonder Woman with that clever magic whippy thing.

You have done an amazing thing, and you deserve wonderful things to happen - which they will, just you wait!

To those of you who are still lurking, not sure whether or not to take the plunge, then why not make 2018 your year? You have nothing to lose and so much to gain.

Have an incredible day, everyone, and I'll see you on the other side!

If you're looking for more information and inspiration, there's lots on the SoberMummy Facebook page. There's a fabulous quote about how amazing it is being sober at Christmas from - of all people - Jeremy Clarkson!

There's also a great TED talk on 'gray area drinking' - 'the kind of drinking where there’s no rock bottom, but you drink as a way to manage anxiety and then regret how much and how often you drink." Sound familiar?

To go to the SoberMummy Facebook page click here, 'like' page to stay updated.

Merry Christmas!

Love SM x

Fingers Crossed

You know how life spins out, everything trundling along just fine, and then something really awful threatens to happen, right out of the blue?

Maybe it's a health scare, or something wrong with one of your children, parents or friends, a redundancy or relationship break-up.

Then you find yourself doing a deal with the universe. You say things like if I get through this terrible time, then I promise I will never, ever take things for granted again. I will always be grateful for the stuff that really matters, and I will be a GOOD person, for ever and ever.

(Or is it just me who does that?)

Anyhow, a few weeks down the line, the potential disaster dealt with or averted, then forgotten, and - sure enough - you're back to stressing about the things that don't matter and forgetting to be grateful for the things that are genuinely important, like your family's health, a roof over your head and food on the table.

Well, the handy thing about having had breast cancer is that you are never, ever allowed to forget. Because every few months, a letter arrives in your post box telling you that you have a mammogram, or an ultrasound or a blood test, to check that your boobs haven't decided to try to kill you again, or - even worse - that some pesky cancer cells haven't cropped up in your bones, or your lungs or your brain.

Tomorrow I have to go back to the cancer clinic for my two year check-up.

So, to distract myself from feeling terrified, I am reminding myself to feel grateful.

Grateful for a wonderful two years which I might not have had. Thankful for any more time I'm allotted which I can spend helping shepherd my children towards being proper, well-rounded and happy grown-ups, and making some fabulous memories for them.

(Yesterday, I got to celebrate my eldest turning fourteen. There was a time when I thought I might not be able to do that.)

It's also a great time to feel grateful for being sober. Because the truth is that when you drink to numb all the difficult stuff in life, you numb all the good stuff too. And I don't want to miss a single minute of it.

If you have a spare moment, please keep your fingers crossed for me.

And here's some really HAPPY NEWS! Ang75, who many of you know from her comments on this blog, is ONE YEAR SOBER TODAY! Happy Soberversary Ang. You are amazing. Have a truly wonderful day.

By the way, new on the SoberMummy Facebook page, a lovely post from Club Soda on what children say when their parents quit drinking.

(Click here, to go to the Facebook page, 'like' the page if you want to stay updated).

Love SM x

Manchester Terrorist Attack

I woke up this morning to the terrible news of a terrorist attack in Manchester last night.

What makes this event particularly horrific is not just the fact that at least twenty-two were killed and sixty or so injured by flying pieces of metal, but that the bomb was triggered (by a suspected suicide bomber) outside an Ariana Grande concert, and timed to explode just as the crowds were leaving the venue.

If you don't have young daughters, you may not know Ariana Grande. My girls have grown up with her, as the ditsy, pretty, wholesome 'Cat' in Sam and Cat and Victorious.

The people going to see an Ariana Grande concert would be teenaged girls at their first ever concert, mums taking their ten-year-old to see her idol as a special birthday treat, families enjoying an event that they know will be appropriate for all ages.

Pictures of the scene just before the explosions show a mass of pink helium balloons and groups of young girls, smiling, singing, grinning and taking selfies.

I listened to interviews this morning with men who'd gone to collect their daughters last night and been greeted by unimaginable scenes of chaos, panic and horror.

How can anyone justify any of this in the name of any religion or cause?

In other news, (as if any other news really matters) a new study into the, now irrefutable, link between alcohol and breast cancer was announced. Even half a glass of wine a day significantly increases your risk.

I know this, obviously, and the timing is pertinent, as today I have a check up and ultrasound scan (eighteen months after my original cancer diagnosis) at the breast clinic. Oh joy.

Both the events of last night, and my personal trial this morning, remind me how our futures are so uncertain. In just a matter of moments - an explosion or a black mass on an ultrasound scan - our whole lives can change.

Which is why we have to remember, every day, to be phenomenally grateful for what we have - for our families, our friends and our health.

Love to you all, and particularly to those of you in Manchester. I hope you, and those you care for, are well and safe.

SM x

Pride Comes Before a Fall

After twenty months of not drinking I had this sense that my whole life was slotting into place. I was a little happy bunny, veritably hopping along verdant verges, counting all my blessings which went something like this:

(1) A twelve month 'all clear' from the cancer clinic and a happy, healthy family.

(2) I have finally reached my wedding weight - ten stone, one hundred and forty pounds. I have lost two stone without even trying very hard (I eat a lot of cake).

(see my post: Reasons to quit drinking #1: weight loss)

(3) I have not just one, but a flurry of publishers interested in my book. My agent is busy arranging meetings (I hope they don't change their minds once they've met me!) and has set a deadline 'for offers' of December 6th.

Life doesn't get much better than that.

I should know better than to allow myself to feel smug.

Then Mr SM comes back from the office and says "we have to talk," followed by the words most designed to make me freak out: "don't freak out."

It transpires that his whole team is being gradually 'phased out.'

Now Mr SM is relatively sanguine about the whole thing, muttering phrases such as "time for a change anyhow," and "don't want to get stuck in a rut."

He's even taking to quoting The Apprentice: "next time you come into the Boardroom, at least one of you will get fired," and "why do you deserve to stay in the process?"

I, however, am very bad at dealing with uncertainty. I spent a sleepless night catastrophizing. After just a few minutes of this information hitting my over-active brain I had us all homeless and begging on the streets.

In the morning I was blearily loading up the car with school kit when I realised that it had been broken into. Someone had stolen my stash of parking change and - bizarrely - my driving glasses.

We're looking for a thief with an unusually large number of 10p coins and an eyesight prescription of approximately -1.75, sporting a pair of rather old and battered middle-aged-lady specs.

It's on days like these when alcohol would be extremely useful. Just a few glasses of vino and all those sharp edges disappear, everything feels a bit less real and life becomes an awful lot easier to cope with...

....for a short while.

But I am stronger than that now (plus, I suspect it would bugger up any chance of that publishing contract!), so I tried all the other things that I know can help.

I did gratitude (see my post: Gratitude) and counted all my blessings (see above). I did mindfulness and stopped myself looking ahead and panicking. I did exercise. I wallowed in the bath with a dash of aromatherapy oils. And I ate cake.

And today it all seems a lot better.

Especially as I discovered that one incredibly generous and kind reader has anonymously donated £100 to my JustGiving page in aid of The Haven Breast Cancer Support Centres (see my post: Giving Back for more about The Haven and how to donate).

Isn't that awesome? Thank you, thank you, whoever you are.

Happy Friday everyone!

SM x

Gratitude

It's not happy people who are grateful, it's grateful people who are happy.

I found that the single most difficult thing about quitting the booze was dealing with stress and anxiety.

For years, or decades even, we have reached for a glass of our favourite tipple whenever the going got tough, 'to take the edge off.'

For me, this became such an ingrained habit that I'd automatically anaesthetise even the smallest stresses. (Uh oh, the telephone's ringing, better have a glass of vino).

So, when we quit, dealing with all of that day to day stuff, raw, is a bit of a shock.

That's why, whenever I attempted Dry January, I'd generally choose a start date of January 5th. Firstly, it knocked a few days of the month, and secondly because the beginning of January can be a bit stressful.

Yesterday was a case in point.

I had to get everything packed up and cleaned ready to move the family back home from skiing in the Swiss Alps to London, involving one taxi, one train, one plane and one car journey.

We were due to get home 10pm, with kids starting school 8.30am the next day (aarrrgghhh!).

Added to which, I knew that on my return I'd be back to earth with a huge bump, dealing with the flood in our cellar, the two pounds I've gained over Christmas, the annual tax return, and the biggie.

'The biggie' is the fact that over the last week I've managed really successfully to forget about the whole cancer thing. I've hardly thought about it, after two months of thinking about little else.

But now I have to get back to the reality of check ups and starting a ten year course of Tamoxifen.

In the old days I would have drunk my way through a day like yesterday. Not getting drunk (it took quite a lot to get me drunk by that stage), but providing a constant blur to all the stress.

A glass or two while packing, one at the airport, one on the plane (more if I could brave the disapproval of the air hostess), and the best part of a bottle on returning home.

Not now.

So I'm always looking for new ways of relieving stress. Usually I'd do a bit of 'time out.' A hot bath, a good book, a slice of cake. No good, however, if you have to travel hundreds of miles.

Well, apparently GRATITUDE is the new Mindfulness. Arnold Schwarzenegger, Pierce Brosnan, Barack Obama, and many more, swear by it.

Oprah insists that the 'gratitude diary' she's been keeping for the last twenty years is the most important thing she has done in her life.

Twitter is suddenly littered with #gratitude (accompanied by sick making pictures of minor celebrities doing improbable yoga poses in jaw dropping locations).

There's science behind it too.

Psychologists have shown that gratitude is linked to better sleep, less anxiety and depression, sounder relationships and higher long-term satisfaction with life.

It even makes us healthier, and Janice Kaplan, author of 'The Gratitude Diaries' swears that being grateful for our food can make us thinner.

The bestselling self-help book The Secret takes the concept of gratitude even further, claiming:

Gratitude is a powerful process for shifting your energy and bringing more of what you want into your life. Be grateful for what you already have and you will attract more good things.

What's not to like?

So I gave it go. I took my list of all the things that were stressing me out, and turned it on it's head.

Instead of fretting about the journey, I focused on what a great holiday we'd had.

Kids back to school equals more free time - yay!

Thank goodness we'd found the mains pipe leak in our cellar before we went away and were able to turn the water off.

A two pound weight gain is nothing compared to the eight pounds I'd have gained over a boozy Christmas.

Well done me earning (just) enough cash last year to qualify for a tax return.

And, the biggie: Thank you, thank you Universe, for the fact that I'm currently (as far as they can tell) cancer free.

And you know what? IT WORKS!

I went from dreading the day to feeling positively buoyant.

So, next time you hit a bump in the road and it makes you really, really want a drink, remember this one:

There are people out there who would love to have your bad days...

.....and have a hot chocolate instead. Or an AF beer.

(I do have to confess that I did need a crate of Becks Blue by the time I got home, despite all the Gratitude stuff).

Love to you all, and Thank you!

SM x