The Best New Sober Blogs

I'm really not exaggerating when I say that blogging saved my life.

I'd tried to quit drinking many times before, and I'd kept it up for a week or two, sometimes whole months, but eventually I'd end up back where I started. Usually worse than where I'd started.

I'm often asked what made the difference this time, and the answer is simple: blogging. Here's why:

Community

In Johann Hari's amazing TED talk titled 'Everything you thought you knew about addiction is wrong' he says that the opposite of addiction is connection. It's finding a group of people who understand what you're going through and can support you and guide you that makes the difference.

In the dark days, when I was desperate for a drink, and when I was first diagnosed with breast cancer, that community held out its hand and saved me.

Giving back

Alcoholics Anonymous have 'giving back' as one of their twelve steps. Helping other people in the way that you've been helped is good for the soul. It also helps to remind you where you've been and to feel grateful for where you are, and gratitude is crucial for good mental health.

Blogging is a great way of giving back.

Mindfulness

We all know that mindfulness is a really good thing, but it's really difficult for we addicts, because we often have what's known as monkey brain. Overactive minds that just won't shut up - that's why we drank, for the dimmer switch that alcohol provides. It also makes things like meditation really, really difficult.

However, blogging, or any form of reading or writing, is a great way of practising mindfulness, and of keeping your thoughts in the moment.

Therapy

Therapists often prescribe 'journalling' as a way of aiding recovery. Writing down what you're going through and how you're feeling on a daily basis is a great way of understanding where yourself and your issues.

Remembering

One of the main reasons for falling off the wagon is because you start feeling SO much better, and then you forget how bad it was. You forget why you're doing all this. You think maybe this time it will be different. Having a blog to remind you what it was really like and why you quit is really helpful for times like these.

I get lots of messages from people who've started sober blogs, and are finding it really therapeutic, but finding readers initially is hard, particularly if you want to stay anonymous and don't want to share your blog posts on social media.

Often, by the time people have found them, they've been sober for a year already, and those readers are missing out on helping the writer through the hardest, early days.

That's why I'm writing this.

If you have recently started a sober blog, or podcast, or YouTube channel and you would like people to find you then please leave a few lines about your 'thing' and your web address in the comments below.

Also, if you have recently come across a brilliant new blog, or podcast or whatever, then please recommend it below.

If you've recently quit drinking, or want to do so, then check out the recommendations below for some new virtual friends, who are going through exactly what you are. You can help each other.

I will share this post on all the SoberMummy Facebook page, and will add it to the pages at the top of my blog, so it's always accessible if you're wanting to promote or to read.

If you get a chance to share this post too, then please do. Let's all help each other, spread the word and the love.

And if you'd like to know more about my first year blogging my way through going sober, you can read The Sober Diaries. Available from Amazon here (UK) and here (USA).

Love to you all,

SM x

3 Reasons Why Dogs are a Sober Girl's Best Friend

Yesterday, I was reading the incredible story of Mali - the special forces dog who's just been awarded a medal for bravery after sniffing out explosives and Taliban insurgents during a seven and a half hour gunfight in Kabul.

A grenade badly injured Mali's belly and legs, blew out a tooth and damaged his right ear, but still he kept going, being hoisted from one building to the next in a sling on his handler's back.

This story reminded me how incredibly loyal, brave and clever our furry friends can be.

The picture on this post is my scruffy terrier, Otto. He's not as well trained as Mali (in fact, he's barely trained at all), but he's my hero, nonetheless.

He sat by me, literally, his head on my tummy, as I recovered from treatment for breast cancer. And he was my very best sober buddy.

Here are three reasons why dogs are a sober girl's best friend:

1. They get you outside

However much you might want to hunker down at home and mope, your four legged companion is going to stare at you with those big, brown (unless you have a Husky) eyes until you take them out for a walk.

This is a very good thing, as exercise - especially outdoors - is incredibly good for your mental health, which is why the Japanese are so obsessed by what they call 'forest bathing.' It reduces stress and anxiety and boosts all your happy hormones.

Also, walking outside gets you away from all those booze-associations - the fridge, the wine rack, your favourite armchair, etcetera ad infinitum. Even I never took alcohol with me on a dog walk, even in the baddest of bad days.

2. They are masters of mindfulness

One of the best ways to get through the early days of sober is 'mindfulness': concentrating on the present moment and not worrying about not drinking forever and ever or what sins you might have committed in the past.

But mindfulness is incredibly hard. Which is why you need your own furry mindfulness guru to hand.

Dogs only live in the moment. They remind you of all the incredible things happening right now under your very nose. The thrill of a new path, splashing through mud, having a cuddle.

Just look at how much your dog loves life and you realise that booze really isn't necessary in order to discover joy in the everyday.

3. They love you, whatever, unconditionally

By the time most of us quit drinking we can be pretty hard on ourselves. We spend an awful lot of time examining our flaws and fretting over past misdemeanours.

Our dogs remind us that we are completely loveable, imperfections and all. They don't judge, they just lick.

If you don't have a dog already, then think of all the money and time you'll be saving by not drinking and consider spending some of it on a new friend.

Don't buy a puppy, find a rescue dog. A dog who deserves a second chance at life and a whole load of love, just like you do.

Please tell me about your own furry friends in the comments below....

By the way, new on the SoberMummy Facebook page: some inspirational wisdom from Winne-the-Pooh, and the story of Robert Downey Jr, and how he beat his addictions. I wonder if he has a dog.

(To go to the Facebook page, click here. 'Like' to stay updated).

Love SM x

A Simple Way to Break a Bad Habit

That's the title of a TED talk by Judson Brewer. You can see why I was interested....

(Here's the link to the talk).

Judson talks about quitting smoking and stress eating, but his techniques are just as useful for quitting booze.

Here's my take on what he has to say:

It's all about mindfulness.

Brewer (he really should be a drinker with that name, don't you think?) talks about how bad habits arise.

We're programmed, at a deep subconscious level, to repeat behaviour that gives our brains a reward. It's how we learn to find food, water, reproduce etc. Trigger. Behaviour. Reward. Repeat.

The problem is that, in the modern age, some of the things that reward our brains - like alcohol - are not at all good for us.

Our conscious brains know this, but our subconscious brains are too simple, too hard wired, to get it.

(The problem is exacerbated when we're stressed, as stress causes the logical bit of our brain to short circuit, leaving us to rely on our more primal instincts. The ones that have been engrained with the habit.)

When we try to quit drinking, our conscious minds try really, really hard to not think about drinking. But the harder you try to not think about something, the more you do.

Your subconscious basically throws a big hissy fit and bombards you with instructions revolving around drinking more booze.

Brewer says the key to dealing with these cravings, these brain tantrums (my words, not his!) is curiosity.

Don't fight those thoughts. Definitely don't give into them. Don't try to make them go away. Study them, like a scientist. Be mindful about what they're saying and how your body is reacting.

Oh, here we go again. Primal brain throwing big strop. Jaw clenching, shoulders tightening up, starting to feel like a kettle reaching the boil. I wonder how long this one's going to last before it gets back in its box.

Once you start attacking cravings with curiosity they lose all their power. And you realise that they are separate from you, and that each of the small effects of that craving are manageable, and temporary.

And gradually, over time, like trying to train a really stupid dog (and, as the owner of a really stupid dog, I say that with love), the subconscious gets the message and stops seeing booze as the solution to every issue.

Try it. It works.

Love SM x

Alcohol and Buddhism

About 14 days after I quit drinking I left a comment on someone else's blog (can't remember which one!).

I was thrilled when the author replied. She said something along the lines of 'you're doing really well! Now you need to find something spiritual to fill the gap.'

I confess that I snorted with derision.

I was far more worried about whether I was going to lose all my friends, and why I was sleeping for twelve hours a day, than filling some hole I didn't think I had.

As with so many things, I was wrong.

Way back in my early twenties, and following several months travelling through Thailand, I became fascinated by Buddhism.

However, my brief flirtation with Buddha was quickly set aside and forgotten, as I got on with the important business of burning the candle at both ends.

But, recently I've found myself being drawn towards Buddhism again. It turns out quitting the booze did leave a hole after all.

Then I read a post by the fabulous Hapless Homesteader (find her blog here), where she talks about the Five Precepts of Buddhism, and I was reminded of the fact that the fifth precept is refraining from intoxicating substances.

Hurrah! I'm already one fifth of the way to enlightment!

I did some more research on the precepts.

Number one is doing no harm to other living things. Two: not taking what is not freely given. Three: no sexual misconduct, and four: no lying or gossiping.

The reason the fifth precept exists is that taking intoxicating substances leads to 'heedlessness', or 'carelessness' - the exact opposite of mindfulness.

Plus, becoming intoxicated is very likely to lead to you breaking one or more of the other four precepts.

I found this parable which explains it beautifully:

A Buddhist monk is told that he must either sleep with someone else's wife, kill a goat or drink a bottle of wine. He chooses the wine, believing that it would do less harm than the other actions.

Several hours later the monk wakes up naked, having drunk the wine, shagged the wife and eaten the goat.

And ain't that the truth?

I may be past the days of 'sexual misconduct', but I certainly caused 'careless' harm left, right and centre. Secrets spilled, promises broken, good deeds not done.

And alcohol, as Hapless Homesteader points out, turns us all into liars.

We lie about how much we drink to others (friends, husbands, doctors), but mostly to ourselves. We lie to give ourselves excuses to keep on drinking (I've had a super stressful day), and we lie about the harm it's doing (a glass of red wine is good for you! It's Mediterranean!).

Plus I was the most terrible gossip.

I've been trying to work out why. I think that when our own life is less than perfect we revel in the imperfections of others. And, when you're a few drinks down, idle gossip is easy, non-demanding, conversation.

Funnily enough, I've started to find gossiping (which I confess I still do from time to time) increasingly distasteful. It feels bitter and mean spirited. It leaves me feeling depleted.

So, I'm trying to ditch the gossip. I'm taking it slowly, starting with only gossiping about strangers. For example, I'll happily dissect the state of David Beckham's marriage, but not those of my friends. Baby steps....

Gossiping, thinking badly of people and being mean about them is just bad karma.

In the words of Buddha:

We are shaped by our thoughts; we become what we think. When the mind is pure, joy follows like a shadow that never leaves.

That's what I'm working on. Now, I'm off to kill a goat and flirt with my gym instructor ;-)

Love SM x

Conscious Uncoupling

I was reading an interview with Chris Martin yesterday (bear with me - it does become relevant).

He believes there are two ways to end a marriage. "You can come at it very aggressively and blame and blame. Or you can put yourself in the garage, so to speak. Take yourself apart and clean off the bits. Reassemble."

Blimey. Doesn't that sound familiar?

So, it turns out that consciously uncoupling from Gwynnie is much like consciously uncoupling from Sauvignon Blanc.

Chris goes on to say that his inspiration was a poem by the 13th century Persian poet - Rumi. And, in fact, it's a poem used by Mindfulness experts and recovery centres round the world: The Guest House.

Here it is:

The Guest House - Rumi

This being human is a guest house.

Every morning a new arrival.

A joy, a depression, a meanness,

Some momentary awareness comes

as an unexpected visitor.

Welcome and entertain them all!

Even if they are a crowd of sorrows,

who violently sweep your house

empty of its furniture,

still treat each guest honourably.

He may be clearing you out for some new delight.

The dark thought, the shame, the malice,

meet them at the door laughing,

and invite them in.

Be grateful for whoever comes,

because each has been sent as a guide from beyond.

Chris's summary of Rumi's lyrical poetry is this: "It says that even when you're unhappy, it's good for you."

It is - I think - hugely relevant for addicts, because we used to meet each guest at the door with a large glass of vino.

"Hello anxiety! Have a bevvy! Disappointment! You look like you could do with a beer!" Any unwanted visitor was quickly drowned out and ignored.

But, as Rumi tells us, those visitors are there for a reason. We need to listen to them, and learn from them. Only then can we grow wise and strong and be good teachers for our children.

So, the next time someone unwelcome comes knocking on your guest house door, do not pour that drink! Meet them at the door laughing, and invite them in. They are a guide from beyond.

Have a good, Good Friday!

Love SM x

Restlessness

Saturday morning in Cornwall. We've now been here a whole week. The sun is shining and I can hear the sounds of #1 and #3 getting up (it's a small cottage).

#2 is snoring next to me. He snuck in last night, taking advantage of the fact that Daddy's been stuck in London, working. (He's joining us today - yay!).

I've been thinking about what's made this holiday, so far, different from previous years, when effectively the formula's been exactly the same (I'm obviously a creature of habits - good ones and bad ones!).

It struck me that the main difference is an absence of restlessness.

Throughout the drinking years I often wanted to be somewhere else. The only times I felt completely at peace were when I had a drink in my hand (which, increasingly, was quite a lot of the time).

Almost as soon as I'd start one activity, I was already considering what to do next. Rather than concentrating on the moment (mindfulness), I was already focussing on the future.

I called this 'planning.' Now is see that it was, actually, restlessness.

There is a biological reason for this feeling. When we are addicted to something (nicotine, narcotics, alcohol, whatever) our brains get so overwhelmed by the dopamine rushes caused by the substance  that they start to reduce the amount of dopamine produced naturally.

This means that without our drug of choice we feel depressed, edgy and restless. We feel like something is missing - we're not complete. Which is, in fact, the case, as we've created an imbalance, a hole, in our neuro chemistry.

So, however much we try and relax, to be in the moment, our subconscious (the Wine Witch) is whispering is there any wine in the fridge? Do you need to go to the shop? Haven't we been at this play centre/playground/funfair long enough? It's definitely time for a drink. Don't just sit there - do something about it!

In previous years, with the kids on the beach in Cornwall, by 5pm I'd be feeling angsty. I'd be hurrying everyone along, packing up, yelling eventually, making sure that we were back home in time for 'me time'.

But this year, as low tide has got later and later, we've adjusted our timings. We've been, literally, going with the flow - getting up later and going to bed later. Staying on the beach until 8pm to make the most of the surfing.

We've had sandy burgers on the beach for supper and watched the sun go down. And I haven't wanted to be anywhere else at all.

That's one of the best gifts of sobriety: peace.

Love SM x

Mindful Self-Compassion

I came across this quote this morning:

'A moment of self-compassion can change your entire day. A string of such moments can change the course of your life.' C.K.Germer.

Wow! I thought. What a great way to start the day! Thank you C.K.Germer.

I was, in fact, so impressed by old C.K. that I Googled him.

(Aside: how did we manage without Google? I'd have to seriously have my socks blown off by someone before I'd troop down to the local library and look them up on the dewey decimal system).

Here's what C.K. has to say about Mindful Self-Compassion:

"Mindful self-compassion is the foundation of emotional healing—being aware in the present moment when we're struggling with feelings of inadequacy, despair, confusion, and other forms of stress (mindfulness) and responding with kindness and understanding (self-compassion). Mindful self-compassion also means holding difficult emotions—fear, anger, sadness, shame and self-doubt—and ourselves, in loving awareness, leading to greater ease and well-being in our daily lives.

"Mindful self-compassion can be learned by anyone. It’s the practice of repeatedly evoking good will toward ourselves especially when we’re suffering—cultivating the same desire that all living beings have to live happily and free from suffering. And as the Dalai Lama says, self-compassion is the first step toward compassion for others."

He sounded like such a wise chap that I decided to download one of his meditations and give it a go. (If you want to do the same, then click on the Mindful Self-Compassion link above).

I've never tried meditation before, but I've been meaning to. The children and the husband were all still slumbering upstairs, so I found myself a comfy chair and pressed play on the first download (18 minutes long).

Lots of breathing. Lots of paying attention to the breathing, and to what the breathing feels like.

This was all somewhat scuppered when the terrier got overexcited by discovering me sitting down with an unoccupied lap and decided to join in. Soon I was paying attention to the feeling of being licked by a puzzled dog.

You will find thoughts wandering in....says C.K. No shit Sherlock. Mine went something like this:

How long have I been doing this for already? Any minute now the troops will start appearing for breakfast. I'm hungry. What happens if I stop concentrating on the breathing? Will I stop breathing? Arrgghh. I'm going to die. How long have I been doing this for already? I've got stuff to do. I've got to write my blog and go for a run all before they wake up. Was that someone waking up? I'm hungry. How long have I been doing this for already?

Ten minutes in and I was stressed!

So, I totally buy the concept of self-compassion. We all need a bit of that. Plus, I love mindfulness, BUT I like mindfully doing stuff (see Monkey Brain and Mindfulness), not mindfully doing nothing. It freaks me out. And I feel like a pillock. Perhaps I'm too British?

Any thoughts and experiences with meditation gratefully received.

Have a great sober Sunday my friends! I'm off for a run...(after breakfast)

SM x

10 things to do when you get sober

HUGE CONGRATS to RCW on 100 days! Awesome work RCW.

We're all getting there, baby step by baby step...

I love lists. So here's my top 10 things to do when you get sober. Please add your own ideas in the comments section....

1. Love yourself

Hell, at times it's hard and we need some treats. Plus we're saving buckets of cash. So get a new haircut. Get your nails done. A massage? Why not? And the key here is not to feel guilty. You're doing a great thing, and you really are worth it!

2. De-clutter

There's something about getting sober that makes us want to sort out the recesses of our houses as well as our minds and bodies. Clear out all those drawers and cupboards that we shoved everything away in when we were spending too much time drunk or hungover.

(Read more about de-cluttering and feng shui in my post: Clutter)

3. Love your space

Once you've de-cluttered you can start to really love your surroundings, to create a safe haven. Buy fresh flowers, frame all those old photos, dust off the scented candles.

Plus cleaning, painting walls and gardening are fabulous ways to banish the wine witch and practice mindfulness.

(See post on Monkey Brain and Mindfulness)

4. Get creative

Another great way of doing mindfulness. And lots of us seem to find that once we stop drinking our synapses start firing in all sorts of amazing ways.

We rediscover our ability to write, to paint, to dance. Write a diary, a blog or a book. Draw, sketch, sing, dance, knit, do origami, batik, needlepoint - whatever floats your boat.

5. Get physical

Many of us swear by yoga or running (both of which are on my list of things to do next). Try spinning, swimming, or kick boxing.

Exercise will not only help you lose the wine belly, but it's a great way of relieving anxiety and it boots your serotonin levels, just like alcohol used to.

Go wild: have lots of sober sex (I hesitated to write that in case Mr SM decides to read this and gets over-excited....)

6. Get outside

The great outdoors is another proven way to reduce stress and anxiety. Plus we have fewer 'triggers' when we're no-where near a bar or a fridge! Think about getting a puppy, or just borrow one. Dogs remind you how to appreciate the simple things in life, like a good, long ramble.

(see Dogs: A sober girls best friend)

7. Get with the kids

I spent hours with the kids wishing the time away, and not really concentrating on what they were doing. Now it's make up time. Take them swimming. Paint with them. Play Monopoly. Be really present, not just pretending to be.

8. Get healthy

Listen to what your body's telling you. Now it's not all confused with booze it will tell you when you need to sleep and when/how much you need to eat.

If you're craving certain foods (except sugar! Try to avoid that one!) it's probably something you need.

Avoid anything processed and go for good, clean nutrients. Buy a nutri-bullet (another one on my list) and get juicing. Your body deserves looking after, after all those years of abuse.

9. Listen

After years of self obsession and being stuck on 'transmit', try really listening to people. They can be fascinating - who knew? It gives parties a whole new purpose. Plus, people will like you more if you're genuinely interested in them.

10. Spread the love

We've been given a huge gift by the universe. A second chance. It's time to pass it on. Dole out free babysitting. Look after your neighbours. Rescue a stranger.

But, most of all, help other people following in your path. Pick up the fellow lushes and offer them a shoulder to lean on. That's good karma. It's good for them, and it's good for your soul.

Love to you all.

SM x

Monkey Brain and Mindfulness

Alcohol addicts often talk about having 'monkey brain.' It feels like we have particularly active minds. Constantly whirring, analysing, criticising, worrying.

Or perhaps everyone has minds just as busy, but are just better at dealing with them.

Whatever the reasons behind 'monkey brain' it does seem to be one of the reasons we drink. We use alcohol to shut our heads up. Alcohol is, it seems, the only way to stop us agonising about the past or stressing about the future.

You know the feeling: you've been running around all day, your internal dialogue is driving you crazy, you sink into an armchair, pour a large glass of wine and - after a few good glugs - relative peace.

(Until about 3am when you're woken up by the monkey brain chanting a litany of self loathing).

When we stop drinking, one of the things we miss the most is that 'dimmer switch' or volume button.

Which is where mindfulness comes in.

Mindfulness is another (less toxic!) way of stopping the monkey brain for long enough to give ourselves a break.

I was a bit sceptical about mindfulness, as I thought it necessarily involved meditation and, being British, I feel a bit of a pillock meditating. Besides, who has the time?

But not so. According to Daniel Ingram, "mindfulness does not stop after you get off the cushion." In fact, mindfulness does not even have to involve a cushion.

Mindfulness is an ancient Buddhist practice, very similar to the psychological concept of 'flow'.

You know that feeling when you are totally lost in an activity, and the time seems to fly by - you're almost in a trance? You're not worrying about anything because you are totally focussed on the present moment? That's 'flow'. It's also 'mindfulness'.

Mindfulness is defined as paying attention in a particular way:  on purpose, in the present moment, and non-judgementally in order increase awareness, clarity and acceptance.

So, to achieve a state of mindfulness, you don't need to learn to meditate - you can just choose an activity you love and give it your full focus. Pay proper attention to what you're doing. How it looks, feels, sounds, smells. Don't let your mind wander.

The activities that ex addicts tend to choose range from yoga and gardening, to cooking, knitting, art, dog walking or fishing. There's even a best selling colouring book called 'colouring for mindfulness.'

If any pesky worries creep into your mind notice them, then get rid of them.

(This process is known in mindfulness circles as 'wack-a-mole' after the arcade game).

After half an hour you'll have achieved something (baked a cake, weeded the garden, caught a fish - whatever), but you'll also feel great - relaxed, calm and peaceful. Without the drink.

So be mindful. Go with the flow. Get in the zone.

Love to you all,

SM x

Gardening

Day 83.

The thing about being a high functioning alcoholic is that you have to learn to prioritise.

There are not enough sober hours in the day to keep absolutely everything functioning perfectly, so you learn to pick your battles.

In my life, priority number one was keeping the children (and husband) happy. Properly fed, clothed, achieving. Homework done, music practice done, playdates arranged and executed, homemade costumes created for various 'dress up days', cakes created for bake sales, and so on. That, in itself, is a full time job.

Next in line is the house. We have an old, relatively big (for London) house which we can't afford to maintain properly. So not only do I have to make sure that it's clean and tidy, but I'm also constantly running around with pots of filler, damp proof paint etc, trying to stop it looking as if it's about to fall down (which it is).

After the house and its inhabitants comes me. And, I confess, personal grooming had started to slip a little. Who has time for appointments with the gym, the dental hygienist, the eyebrow threader or the waxing lady when there's serious 'socialising' (aka drinking) to do at the weekend, as well as all the house-kids-and-husband stuff? Not me.

And right at the bottom of the list? The garden. All too easy to shut the doors and just pretend it wasn't really there. Especially in the winter. Between the months of October and March the only member of the SoberMummy household who spent any time in the garden was the dog. With inevitable consequences.

Once the man from Sky arrived unexpectedly early for an appointment to fix a satellite dish. It had been raining for several days and I hadn't been into the garden to 'clear the lawn'. The man from Sky refused to erect his ladder on our lawn due to 'health and safety' and hot footed it back to HQ. God I felt like a slut.

But now I have eons more time. And over the last two days I have totally transformed my garden. The lawn is manicured. The borders are weeded. I took all the old, broken, plastic garden toys to the dump. I've planted lots of bedding plants. I've trained honeysuckle and clematis over the old Wendy House.

There's a little herb garden outside my kitchen door. I've even ordered an outdoor sofa (cost: a massive 30 bottles of wine equivalent, but worth it). And today we have two families coming round for a barbeque.

And not only is my garden looking lush (the only lush in the SM house now), but the act of gardening has given me a real high.

It appears that I'm not the only one to discover this. Apparently researchers have proved that gardening lowers blood pressure, increases brain activity and produces an 'upbeat feeling.' MIND - the mental health charity - has funded 130 ecotherapy projects across England.

It's believed that gardening works by providing a sense of 'control', which is the psychological nemesis of stress and anxiety. Plus, the act of gardening is a form of Mindfulness - it makes us focus on the 'now' and takes our minds off problems in the past, or fear of the future.

Even looking at gardens helps produce a sense of calm. The notorious New York jail - Riker's Island - uses horticultural therapy to clam prisoners and prepare them for release.

I remember a fabulous scene in Sandra Bullock's film 28 days (about an addict going into rehab). One of the rehab 'inmates' asks the counsellor when they can start dating. The counsellor replies that first they should buy a pot plant and try to keep it alive. Then try the same with a pet. Only once the plant and pet are still alive and thriving for a year should they think about trying the same with another human.

My new plants will, hopefully, thrive and grow, providing a living 'sober counter'. And we won't have any more problems with our satellite TV.

Have a great weekend all of you! And, to my UK friends, it's a Bank holiday woo hoo!

SM x

Weeping

Day 54.

I had an odd day yesterday. I was multi-tasking: doing the ironing while catching up on Poldark on the TV, about 11am.

By the way, have you noticed how clean and orderly your house gets when you stop drinking? We ex-drinking enthusiasts often find that cleaning and ironing really help to take your mind off the not drinking thing - it's like a less indulgent version of 'mindfulness' - it keeps you focused on the moment.

Plus, there's a lovely synergy between cleansing everything around you and cleansing yourself. A fresh start. A clean sheet of paper. Right now I'm finding newly laundered bed linen almost exciting as a chilled bottle of Sancerre used to be. How sad is that?

Anyhow, back to the point. There I am, watching telly and ironing the husband's shirts when, a propos of nothing, totally out of the blue, I start weeping. Profusely. And I'm not even sad. Nor is Poldark - he's just discovered copper in his mine and they're all celebrating.

Now, I'm British. I don't do weeping. Stiff upper lip and all that. The only time I remember being this emotional for no apparent reason was shortly after #1 was born. I was a mass of hormones and still in shock from being suddenly propelled into motherhood and it took me two days to get over the scene in Finding Nemo where Nemo's Mum, along with hundreds of his un-hatched siblings, was eaten by a shark.

Yesterday I felt a bit like an onion that's gradually had it's layers peeled away, leaving me all raw and vulnerable. And I was crying because I suddenly felt overwhelmed by emotion. It wasn't bad crying - it was actually rather cathartic.

I've read a lot about how we drink in order to avoid emotions; we're stressed, we drink, we're scared, we drink, we're happy, we drink. As a result, we fail to grow up.

The fabulous Caroline Knapp, author of Drinking, a Love Story, writes 'I'd never really grasped the idea that growth was something you could choose, that adulthood might be less a chronological state than an emotional one which you decide, through painful acts, to both enter and maintain. Like a lot of people I know (alcoholics and not), I'd spent most of my life waiting for maturity to hit me from the outside, as though I'd just wake up one morning and be done, like a roast in the oven.'

And that's so me: a raw chicken wondering when I'm going to get cooked. I still feel like a nineteen year old at heart.

Alcoholrehab.com states that 'Addicts usually struggle when it comes to dealing with their feelings. This is why many of them will have turned to substance abuse in the first place. Alcohol and drugs can provide a temporary escape from unpleasant emotions. These chemicals numb the brain so that the individual feels very little. Once the individual becomes addicted to these substances, they will be unable to mature emotionally. This means that when they become sober, they will still be faced with the problem of dealing with their emotions.'

When we stop drinking we don't mature immediately. It feels as if we have to be 'pared down', or rubbed raw, before we can build ourselves up again, before we can choose to deal with our lives and emotions properly, soberly, and become a real life grown up. A perfectly done roast.

So there I was, all raw and weeping. I felt as if I was looking at myself from a distance, and I'm thinking 'look at you, you ex boozer, sad case weirdo. But, actually, what an inventive use of bodily fluids! Who needs an expensive steam iron? Just weep all over your laundry.'

Have a fabulous Friday everyone.

Love SM x

I am Khaleesi!

Day 42, and I have been reading up on visualisation techniques (that's visualization for my friends on the other side of the pond).

Visualisation has been around for centuries, and has roots in meditation, prayer and hypnotherapy. Many top sportspeople use visualisation, and Arnold Schwarzenegger famously took the visualisation techniques he used in body building and applied them to acting and politics.

Arnie says: "I visualized myself being and having what it was I wanted. Before I had my first Mr Universe title, I walked around the tournament like I owned it. I had won it so many times in my mind that there was no doubt I would win it. Then I moved onto the movies, the same thing. I visualized myself being a famous actor and earning big money. I just knew it would happen."

Think about the improbability of a scarily pumped up Austrian with an unintelligible accent becoming Governor of California, and you start to think that maybe there's something in this visualisation malarkey.

There are 3 ways to use visualisation on the road to getting and staying sober. The first is in relaxation and stress relief. The idea is that around wine o'clock, instead of thinking about pinot grigio, you find a quiet spot (like in a hot bath) and imagine yourself in your 'happy place'. Try and use all your senses - smell, feeling, sounds, colours, taste. Cravings only last ten minutes, so this can help you ride the storm.

My current favourite 'happy places' are: (1) On a deserted beach on Koh Samui with Buck the Texan (see Sober in Switzerland for the full story) (2) On the back of a horse galloping along the Cornish headland with my arms wrapped around the rippling, glistening six pack of Poldark (only my English friends will get that one) and, my favourite (3) In a calorie free cup cake bakery with the gorgeous husband and kids. What's yours?

The second way to use visualisation is the Arnie way - to imagine your future success. Here you picture yourself where you want to be in a year's (pick your own timeframe) time. My future visualisation is of a sober, skinny, beautifully dressed and groomed me, at the book launch of my soon-to-be-bestselling novel, surrounded by friends, family and my proud, happy, well behaved and well adjusted kids.

Future visualisations are believed to help with focus, confidence, motivation and self esteem. Knowing what you are working towards and really believing it can happen is the first step to changing your life. There are even those who claim that visualising a positive future can actually make it happen. This is referred to as the 'law of attraction.' It sounds like poppycock, but there are many studies showing that people who think positively have more positive outcomes, and vice versa.

But my favourite way of using visualisation is what I refer to as the 'kick ass method'. Alan Carr suggests visualising your cravings, or your 'inner addict', as a writhing snake or a monster. Every time you deny the snake a drink it dies a little. You have to keep going until it's well and truly despatched. One small sip and it leaps back into life.

In a similar vein, we all talk about the 'wine witch'. It's easier to beat your inner addict when you picture it as a vile, manipulative crone and not just your own subconscious. I like to take this one step further and imagine myself in 'kick ass' persona, battling with, and beating the enemy with great style and panache.

I first used this technique when I was promoted to the board of my Ad Agency. When I went into board meetings as the youngest, and one of the only female members, I would picture myself as Madonna circa 1987 wearing one of those cone tipped bras and leather hotpants. I also imagined that my nipples could fire laser guns on demand. Needless to say, I swaggered into those meetings with far more panache and confidence than I'd have had without Madge.

Apologies to Madonna, to whom I will always be grateful, but I have updated her. I am now Khaleesi from the Game of Thrones. Khaleesi - aka Daenerys Targaryen, Mother of Dragons - strong, wise and beautiful. You would never, ever see Khaleesi reach for the Chablis when in a spot of trouble. Oh no! She would let loose her army of Unsullied. Khaleesi would never have a problem overcoming a little addiction. This woman can walk through flames and come out unscathed!

So whenever the wine witch comes tapping on my shoulder, I picture Khaleesi and let lose my three dragons, burning the evil bitch to a cinder without hesitation or wavering. (n.b. it's important to ignore the end of Season 4 when Khaleesi's dragons turn bad and start frying small children).

You know where I'll be on Monday evening? Series 5 of Game of Thrones starts in the UK on Sky Atlantic. I'll be on the sofa with my hot chocolate cheering on Khaleesi as she gets ever closer to the iron throne.

Happy hangover free Sunday to you all.

Love SM x

Related posts: Discovering mindfulness

I hate the word 'normal'

Day 39. Back at home. Another week of school holidays left and it's hard.

During term time I get at least a couple of hours during the day to 'de-stress'. Like many of you, I've found that going to the gym, taking the dog for a walk, meeting a friend for a coffee, cooking food for the freezer or just blogging and reading take my mind off the not drinking and give me the strength to cope with the more 'full on' bits of the day, and the dreaded 'wine o'clock'.

When #1, #2 and #3 are on holiday, all day, every day is full on, so when it gets round to 'wine o'clock' I'm on my knees and finding it very difficult to step away from the wine rack.

So, today I got up while the children were still fast asleep to blog, and *spoiler alert*, I feel the need to RANT. I realise that many of you will not agree with the following argument, and I even realise that in a few weeks/months/years time I may not agree with it myself, but at this point in time I:

HATE THE WORD NORMAL.  I particularly hate the expression NORMAL DRINKER.

Over the last 39 days I have read LOADS of books on getting sober, and lots of amazing sober blogs and personal stories, and they are all (including my own) littered with the word NORMAL.

We compare ourselves endlessly to the 'normal drinker'. We admire them. We envy them. And as a result we secretly hate them (go on - confess!). But the problem is that, in defining them as 'normal', by implication we believe ourselves to be 'abnormal'. Freaks. Sad case losers. Well SOD OFF!

(I told you I was cross today).

I turned to the good old world wide web. I found this amazing article in the Washington Post from last September. According to this article (based on government statistics), 3 in 10 American adults do not drink at all! Who knew? (Incidentally, in the UK it's only around 2 in 10). Another 3 in 10 drink less than one drink a week. That leaves only 40% of American adults who drink more than one drink a week.

Here's the interesting bit. 1 in 10 US adults drink more than 10 drinks a day. That's 2 bottles of wine a day. Now, if you add those two sets of facts together it means that of the American adults who drink more than one drink a week, ONE QUARTER of them are drinking more than two bottles of wine a day. I double checked the maths (and I did get a first in econometrics from Oxford, back in the day), and I'm sure it's right.

How can one quarter of all drinkers (I don't include the 'less than one drink a week' people as drinkers) be abnormal?

These statistics, I think, back up Jason Vale's argument that there is no such thing as an 'abnormal' drinker or, indeed, an 'alcoholic'. He argues that alcohol is a highly addictive substance - just like nicotine and heroin - and that ALL regular drinkers are addicts, the question is just how far down the slippery slope you have slid.

We don't look at people who smoke 5 cigarettes a day and call them 'normal smokers' versus those on a packet a day. Nor do we define the occasional heroin user as 'normal'. Why do we treat alcohol so differently?

Jason argues that we shouldn't envy the 'normal' drinker. They are trapped too (just less far into the cage), and if you suggested to them that they gave up their two small glasses of wine per night they'd be horrified! They may be 'moderating' but they, too, are constantly watching their intake and setting themselves parameters.

How many times have you heard your 'normal drinker' friends talk about "giving up for January. Not drinking on school nights. Shouldn't have more than one"? Many (if not most) of them deal with the wine witch, too, it's just that she hasn't got as loud and insistent with them (yet).

So who is normal? The person poisoning themselves on a regular basis and slipping further and further into the trap, or us - the alcohol free?

Besides, I've never aspired to 'normality' anyway.

Now I feel much calmer. Better go wake up the kids. Onwards and upwards.

SM x

Related post: Am I an Alcoholic?

I wish that I could wake up with amnesia

Yesterday was Day 37. We were a couple of hours into the 14 hour drive from the Swiss Alps back to London. The sky was a cobalt blue, and the waters of Lake Geneva were glistening in the sunshine. #1 was listening to one of her favourite songs (by 5 Seconds of Summer) for the third time.

As we sang along to the lyrics, she was probably thinking about some hot pre-pubescent boy in Year 8. But I was vividly reminded of my relationship with Chablis.

"I drove by all the places we used to hang out getting wasted.
I thought about our last kiss, how it felt, the way you tasted....

....sometimes I start to wonder, was it just a lie?
If what we had was real, how could you be fine?

'Cause I'm not fine at all."

And it struck me that ditching alcohol - at the grand old age of 46, is much like breaking up with the unsuitable first love at the age of nineteen.

Do you remember all those horribly raw emotions? You weep buckets. You think you're never going to be happy again. You sob on the shoulder of any friend who'll put up with you, truly believing that no-one has ever felt heartache like you do.

He is constantly on your mind, and everything seems to remind you of him: places you went to together, mutual friends, shared interests. Evenings are spent playing songs that you listened to together, poring over old photos and replaying the relationship in your head endlessly.

Was he really so bad? Perhaps, after this break, with time to reflect, you can 're-invent' the relationship - make it perfect. There was so much that was good, wasn't there?

Life is monochrome without him, and it will never, ever be technicolour again.

"I wish that I could wake up with amnesia,
and forget about the stupid little things.
Like the way it felt to fall asleep next to you,
and the memories I never can escape.

'Cause I'm not fine at all."

And that is exactly how I feel. I wish that I could wake up with amnesia, and skip out this grieving process. I feel scarily like my nineteen year old self - possibly because that was the last time I really felt emotion properly, without all the edges blurred off. I'm not fine at all.

But what I have to remember is that now I see that boy I sobbed over for what he was: a terrible mistake, who would have carried on making me miserable again and again. And if I'd let myself see him just once, on his best behaviour - if we'd had had just one kiss for old time's sake - I would have been sunk. I would have forgotten all the bad stuff, and leapt right back in. All the heartache would have been for nothing.

It wasn't my destiny. He wasn't my soul mate. It was just 5 seconds of summer.

If you fancy indulging yourself, here's the link: 5 Seconds of Summer: Amnesia

Love to you all SM x

(For more about connecting with the inner teenager read Sober in Switzerland)

Dogs - a sober girl's best friend

Whilst it's great being on holiday in Switzerland (despite 2 days of total white out), I really miss my dog.

A number of people commenting on this blog have talked about how walking their dogs really helps them take their minds off drinking (or not drinking). It definitely works for me.

To start with, dogs get you out in the fresh air doing some exercise - and both outdoors and exercise seem to really help banish the wine witch. Plus, dog walking is one of the few regular activities I do which is not at all associated with wine. Even I never got so bad that I'd pack a hip flask for the dog walk!

On those days when you just want to hide under the duvet for ever, dogs make you get up and outside. And on the days when you hate yourself and assume everyone else does too, they prove you wrong.

For me, another huge benefit of the furry friend is that I usually arrange to meet a friend (plus dog) for my walks, and we spend an hour gossiping and drinking takeaway cappuccinos while the dogs chase each other around the park. Given that I'm avoiding parties as much as possible for the time being, this gives me a much needed social event.

Dogs are also a great reminder that we don't need artificial stimulants in order to love life. And now when my dog leaps onto my bed in the morning with a look of utter joy that it's a new day I know how he feels! Yay! It's morning!

It's not just me who believes in the power of pets. The Betty Ford Centre use canine therapy, and Hazleden use equine therapy. In fact, many studies have shown that 'interacting with pets can reduce stress and anxiety by reducing cortisol levels. Pets can also decrease your blood pressure, cholesterol levels and triglyceride levels' according to www.addictioncenter.com.

So, go hug your pet. Or, someone else's. Or get one.

But remember, dogs are for life, not just for recovery ;-)

As Flasheart used to cry in Blackadder, "Woof, Hurrah!"

Love SM x

Day 29 - Sober in Switzerland!

I've really missed being able to post every day - this blog, and all of you - have been like my own personal AA sessions.  I'm writing this with one finger on an iPhone, so it'll probably by short and riddled with spelling errors - apologies!

So, here's the update: after a gruelling 16 hour drive with #1, #2 and #3 only pausing from the sibling bickering to consume unhealthy snacks thrown at them in desperation by their parents, we finally arrived in stunning Switzerland.

Needless to say, by this stage I would have given my right arm for a glass of chilled Sauvignon Blanc. In order to stop myself drinking I went into a mad frenzy of cleaning. I was like a whirling dervish with OCD, running around the apartment with a wet cloth and spray detergent. The husband and children thought I'd completely lost it. Has anyone else found that their house has become infinitely cleaner since quitting drinking?

Since the night of the crazy cleaning there have been a number of other white knuckle moments. They are generally linked to 'firsts'. The first lunch up the mountain without a cold beer, the first cheese fondue without red wine to go with it, the first hair raising icy off piste mogul run (mainly done on my arse) without a congratulatory restorative drink at the end. All the outdoors and exercise have - as I'd hoped - stopped me constantly obsessing, but it means that when the cravings do hit I'm not as prepared for them. I'm blindsided.

In Jason Vale's book (kick the drink - easily), he constantly reminds us that children don't need alcohol to have fun and a huge lust for life. I never found that analogy terribly helpful - I'm far too removed in too many ways from my child self. What has been really helpful, though, is remembering one of my best ever holidays....

When I was nineteen I took off for 3 months around South East Asia armed with a rucksack, a copy of South East Asia on a Shoestring and some scrawled notes from my friend Philippa who'd just returned from a similar adventure. I fell in love - with the landscapes, the culture and a rugged, blonde Texan called Buck.

Buck had a tattoo on the sole of his foot reading 'the Buck stops here' in Thai. At least, that's what he asked the tattoo artist to write. It probably translated as 'gullible American asshole'.  I was at the age where you feel everything so intensely - love, anticipation, fear, joy - it was a magical time.

But you know the weird thing? I have hundreds of vivid technicolor memories of that trip and in NONE of them am I clutching a glass of alcohol. Usually I'm holding an old fashioned curvy glass bottle of Coca-Cola. My backpacker budget didn't stretch to imported wine. From time to time I'd drink a Singha beer, but I wasn't bothered about it.

I drank virtually nothing for 3 months and it was one of the best times of my life. And perhaps part of the reason it was so vivid and intense wasn't just my age. Perhaps it was because I hadn't blunted all the edges with booze.

So every time a craving hits I picture my nineteen year old self - skinny, gorgeous (although I didn't know it then, obviously) and sober, looking over the Padi fields listening to Frankie Goes to Holllywood on my Sony Walkman, filled with wonder at the world, and I think "that's how I was before you invaded my space, wily wine witch, and that's how I can be again."

I hope you're all doing okay!

Much love from the land of melted cheese, cuckoo clocks and 'discreet' bankers,

SM xx

Day 25 - Packing Up

Today is Packing Day. At 4am tomorrow Family SoberMummy depart for our annual ski holiday in the Swiss Alps. It sounds flashy, but since I gave up the lucrative career after #3's arrival we have done ski-ing 'on the cheap'.

Our ski holiday involves driving for 16 hours - through the channel tunnel, across the breadth of France and over a mountain range into Switzerland. It is always nerve wracking as we can never guarantee that the old banger is going to make it.

One year we broke down in France at lunch time (which the French take very seriously). We had to wait for hours until one of the local mechanics had finished his dejeuner before we could be towed away and repaired. Another year our licence plate fell off. We only realised when we tried to cross the border and were yelled at by the border police. Luckily, I have spent years doing arts and crafts with children and was able to make a temporary one out of cardboard and sticky backed plastic (thank you Blue Peter!). Plus, at least twice we've been caught in blizzards while crossing the mountains.

We stop at the last Hypermarche in France to buy all our food and drink as it's way cheaper than in the ski resorts, but after ten hours or so driving, the last thing you want to do is to drag 3 children round a supermarket! The final leg of the journey involves trying to fit snow chains on all the tyres in the dark (and often in a white out), to get up the final mountain to our (self-catering) apartment.

But then we wake up on Saturday morning and there will be icicles hanging from all the windows, and we'll look out onto the snowy alps and breathe in the cold, crisp air - and it'll all be worth it. Well, for the husband and #1, #2 and #3 it will. They will throw themselves down sheer rock faces shrieking with glee. Then they all wait at the bottom pointing up and laughing at me while I slowly edge down thinking "I have not got time for a broken leg" and "God, I need a drink".

Needless to day, this trip is usually fuelled by copious amounts of alcohol. There's the 'helping with the packing' bottle (the result of which is that, whilst all the children's stuff is remembered and neatly packed, I invariably forget something crucial of my own - like knickers), the 'thank god we've arrived' bottle, the 'we're on holiday and it's lunch time' bottle, the 'I made it down alive' bottle, etc etc. This time I'm going to have to have the bottle to do it all without the bottle.

On the upside, I will be away from all the usual triggers: my fridge, the wine rack in the hall, the wine shop, my drinking buddies and so on. Plus, I've found that the most effective way to beat cravings is being outdoors and exercise, and there's going to be loads of outdoors and exercise. And the beautiful Swiss Alps have to be the very best place to practice Mindfulness.

I notice that I have loads of readers in the UK and US, plus lots in places like Ireland, Finland, Belgium, Spain, France and the Netherlands. But only 2 page views from Switzerland - and I bet those were in error. I reckon the Swiss are just too sensible (and live in a place too beautiful) to end up as alcohol addicts. After all, Switzerland is where all the mad English aristocracy were sent to 'take the cure' in Victorian times - they got bored of all the fresh air and clinics so they tied planks to their feet and invented downhill skiing - I kid you not.

Given that we are doing budget holiday, our apartment has no wifi. I will try to post from a café or something while I'm away, as writing this blog and reading your comments has become rather an addiction in itself, but I'm not sure how easy it will be so do not worry if I go quiet for ten days. I may have fallen off a mountain, but I will not fall off the wagon. (repeat endlessly to self).

If you're new to this blog then "HELLO AND WELCOME!" and please do check out some of my previous posts while I'm away. Here are some ideas:

If you're looking for some good reasons for not drinking then have a look at: The wine belly, livers and mojos, sleep glorious sleep and why ex-drinkers rock.

If you want to know about the downsides of quitting look at: alcohol withdrawal symptoms, will I lose all my friends and fed up Friday.

If you're interested in my journey so far check out: Mummy was a secret drinker, the Maintenance drinker, secret drinker hits the high bottom, discovering mindfulness and Sundays - hair of the dog.

Love, and Happy Easter, to you all! SM x

14 days - Discovering Mindfulness

We got through the weekend, ladies! (are there any blokes reading this? If so, do shout and I'll stop being so sexist). Congratulations to Kags who did her first big night out sober - woo hoo! Love and hugs to Whimsical (great username!) who was out drinking until 3am Sunday morning and felt terrible yesterday. We've all been there, and we're with you.

14 days in, and here's what I've noticed:

Bright eyes and clear, sort of dewy fresh, skin. And I've lost 2 pounds and about an inch off the muffin top. I'm not yet at the 'hot mama, careful as you walk past building sites' stage, but definitely not looking as raddled as I did. Yay!

Cravings not as bad as they were. I've realised that my danger periods are the old 'wine o'clocks' i.e. around 1pm and 6pm. The way I get through these tough times is to indulge myself. I lie down on the sofa with a good magazine or book, or I have a bath with bubbles, candles and some chilled music - just for 30 minutes until the craving passes. And it does.

I'm not as distracted as I was (see previous post - withdrawal symptoms), so I am managing to (more or less) get through my 'to do' list for the day. And - thank goodness - the digestion seems to be back to normal.

But the big change is that I have suddenly discovered the ability to live in the moment. For the first time in as long as I can remember I can do 'mindfulness'. It strikes me that mindfulness is impossible for an alcohol dependant. We are either wishing time away so we can get rid of the hangover, or wishing it away because we're longing for the next drink or - most likely - both simultaneously. The last thing we want to do is linger in the moment. Maybe we're in the moment when we take the first sip of the first glass, but we're very quickly looking forward to pouring the next one.

The other issue with alcohol and mindfulness is that we use our drinking to take the edges off life - to make it all a bit fuzzy. This is the antithesis to mindfulness, which is about noticing everything clearly and sharply - colours, smells, sounds, our own breathing.

Mindfulness has been in the news a lot recently. Wikipedia define it as "the intentional, accepting and non-judgemental focus of one's attention on the emotions, thoughts and sensations occurring in the present moment." (Try doing that drunk). The effects of mindfulness include alleviation of anxiety, depression, stress, handling emotions and treating substance abuse disorders. Hey, what's not to like?

So, Sunday morning I take my youngest (aged 5) for a walk with the dog round the local cemetery (sounds ghoulish, but it's beautiful). Half way round and I realise that I am absolutely in the moment. Not wishing away a hangover, not checking the time constantly to see when I can pour the first glass. I'm seeing all the daffodils appearing around the gravestones, the glorious spring light and the terribly poignant inscriptions on the monuments. The little one and I play 'who can find the most angels' (not celestial ones, sadly - stone ones). She turns to me and asks " How old are you again, Mummy?" "As old as the hills", I reply. She pauses, thinking, then asks "how old are the hills, Mummy?" I laugh till I cry.

Here's my mindfulness quote for the day: "You must live life in the present, launch yourself on every wave, find your eternity in each moment. Fools stand on their island of opportunities and look towards another land; there is no other life but this." Henry David Thoreau.

Best of luck to you all. Stay in touch. X