Why Don't You Just Drink Less?

Have you been asked this question?

My friends and family can understand why I wanted to do something about the amount of vino I was getting through each week, but they still can't quite work out why I don't just drink a bit less? 

"Isn't going completely teetotal (God, I hate that word) a tad extreme?" they say.

And, many times over the last two years, I've have the same thought myself: have I gone a bit over the top? Surely, after all this time, I can have a glass from time to time, like a normal person?

So, as a reminder for myself, for anyone else who asks me, and in case it might help any of you, here are the three reasons why I don't just drink less...

1. Moderation is not my thing.

I am an all-or-nothing person. I am not very good at having a little bit of something I like and then stopping. I'm good at many things, but that just isn't my forte.

I was the same with cigarettes: thirty a day until I quit, then nothing, not one puff, for the last fifteen years.

I've come to terms with this character quirk. After all, it has its upsides. We 'immoderate' people tend to throw ourselves at everything - we're immoderate with our energy, our love, our enthusiasm.

We're not the sort of people who take one bite at the cake of life, then leave the rest sitting on the plate. Oh no, we gobble up the whole thing, then check the cupboard for more.

2. Moderation is exhausting.

I have, as it happens, managed to moderate my wine intake for periods of time. I did endless deals with myself, when I was trying to avoid giving up altogether.

I did 'I will NOT drink on weekdays.' I did 'I will NOT drink at home.' I tried 'I will NOT drink alone.' Then 'I will NOT drink wine, only beer.' 

Needless to say, within a few weeks I was stretching the rules, then abandoning them altogether.

And, in the meantime, I was exhausted with the effort of trying to be good. 

I was fed up with the devil and the angel on my shoulders constantly rowing with each other, the infernal, internal dialogue in my head, the self-loathing every time I failed again.

The very best thing about quitting altogether is peace. (You have to get through the first 100 days or so first, obviously).

No more endless debate about what you're drinking, when you're drinking, how much you're drinking, because the answer is simple: nothing, nowhere, never.

3. What would be the point?

Now, (and, I have to confess, it took me two years to get here) if ever I think about having a glass or two of wine, I ask myself what would be the point?

For a start, I wouldn't just have one glass. One glass doesn't even touch the sides. If I had one, I'd have several. And, having wrestled for some time with decades of social conditioning, I realise the absurdity, the pointlessness, of getting drunk.

Now, I can think back to those days of feeling woozy, wobbly, slurry, forgetful, annoyed and anxious and ask why on earth would I voluntarily do that to myself?

Deliberately poisoning your body with an addictive toxin in order to 'have a good time' just seems a little....absurd.

In the same way, I now look at smokers inhaling deadly fumes from a tube of rolled up dried leaves and think isn't that a bizarre way to spend your time?

I no longer need alcohol in order to feel relaxed or to have fun. I'm not at all sure what it would add to my life, but I have an incredibly good memory of the things it would take away.

Yet, explaining all of that to the friend at the party with their bemused question "surely you can just moderate?" would take far too much time, and I'm not sure they'd believe me in any case, so I just smile and say:

"Moderation? It's just not really me."

Because it isn't.

TO BUY SOBERMUMMY'S BOOK, THE SOBER DIARIES, CLICK HERE (You can read the first few chapters FREE with the 'look inside' feature)

Love SM x

If Only.....

I'm still recovering from Saturday night's awesome Moonwalk. 50,000 women (some men), all dressed up, walking through London overnight in aid of breast cancer charities.

It's been a long time since I've been up all night with crowds of excited people wearing silly, neon clothes. And I've never done it sober!

We laughed. We wept. We weed behind bushes in St James's Park. It was a great reminder that you don't need to drink to get high.

(Walking past all the scary, edgy, wild eyed drunks around 3am was a great lesson too).

While lying on sofa bemoaning my aching muscles and shredded feet, I was thinking about a question Annie asked me last week.

She asked me if I ever felt sad that I can't just have one drink from time to time.

As soon as she asked the question I felt a wave of regret as I pictured myself on a terrace, overlooking a perfect beach, clutching a glass of chilled white wine.

With huge effort I pushed the image to one side and thought logically.

"No," I replied (lying only slightly), "because that's not the sort of person I am. To wish that I could drink moderately would be to wish that I were a moderate person. And that's not me."

You see, we enthusiastic imbibers are not moderate, we never were. That's why ex drinkers are awesome.

We didn't want one glass to just soften the edges, we wanted all the edges obliterated.

We didn't want one glass of champagne to toast the bride, we wanted two bottles and a serious PARTY!

We didn't want a drink or two at the end of the day to relax a bit, we wanted to be transported to somewhere else entirely.

To become a moderate drinker I'd have to become someone altogether different.

But, in being totally sober, I have found myself again. Still all or nothing. Still over the top. Still immoderate. Still me.

But now I can be immoderate about other, better stuff, like being a great Mum, and a good friend, and making the most of every opportunity (that's all still work in progress, obviously. Not there yet....).

Love to you all,

SM x

Relapse Stories

I get many heart breaking e-mails from people who've quit booze for months, even years, at a time, but then are lured by the dream of 'moderation' back into drinking.

Within weeks they're back to square one.

I've been there too, and yet - even now, after thirteen months of not drinking, I still get haunted by that false promise.

In fact, in some ways it gets harder as, with time, the bad memories fade, and you're only left with the rose tinted ones.

It goes like this: You're overreacting! You were never a 'proper alcoholic'. Now you've 'reset' your relationship with booze and you can drink 'normally'. You're aware now, you know more. You'll never let yourself get into that position again....

I find that what helps me the most when I start thinking like this, is to hear the stories of people who've listened to the wine witch and picked up a drink after a good, long sober stretch.

Because it's never pretty. There's never a happy ending.

So, I'm hoping that any of you who've been there, done that, can comment below, so that all of us who need an extra boost once in a while can read those cautionary tales and find strength in them.

(If you're having problems commenting, then go to Blogger.com and set up a user profile. It's completely anonymous, and can be under any name you like. Then you can comment on any Blogger websites, and even set up your own blog).

To kick things off, here's mine:

My only other long sober stretch was about three years ago. I was getting increasingly troubled by my relationship with booze, and how it seemed to be dominating my life. I desperately wanted to cut down. So I read Jason Vale.

By the end of the book I'd completely changed my view of alcohol. I realised that cutting down wasn't going to work for me - it never had in the past - and that I really could go alcohol free.

So I quit. For nearly two months. I joined Soberistas.com, but that was really the extent of my involvement in the sober world.

Then I had a bad day. I drove for a solid nine hours to Scotland with three squabbling children and a cooped up terrier.

When I, finally, arrived, I thought I really deserved just one glass of wine. After all, I'd reset my relationship with booze now. I knew how dangerous it was. I'd be cautious. Aware.

Within an hour or two I'd drunk the whole bottle! And after two months sober the after effects were ghastly.

Still, I wasn't worried. It was a good lesson. And, indeed, I didn't drink again for a whole week. When I had two glasses. See! Moderation in action!

Suffice to say, that within a month I was back to drinking just as much as before. And the amount kept creeping up, millilitre by millilitre.

It took two whole years for me to find the resolve to quit again. And this time it was harder. Much harder.

So, I know that it's just not worth it. I know that I'd only end up back at the beginning, and that from there the trajectory is in one direction: down.

And yet, sometimes I still hear that voice saying after more than a year you really must have cracked it....

Which is why I'm asking you to share your stories too. Because stories really do have the power to change the world.

Love SM x

Moderators vs Abstainers

I've had many vices, but - luckily - sugar is not one of them.

(Crisps are a different matter. That's chips for my American friends. I can hover up a party bowl of crisps faster than the latest Dyson during a power surge.)

However I have always had a major penchant for Rowntree's Fruit Gums. The ones shaped like tiny little fruits. As a child, I'd save up my pocket money for weeks to buy a box. I was distraught when they discontinued the raspberry ones in the nineties. I even wrote to complain.

I haven't had a fruit gum frenzy for a long time. Apart from anything else, refined sugar is in the AVOID section of the how-not-to-get-breast-cancer-(again) diet sheet. Along with alcohol, obvs.

But today we were doing the drive back to the big smoke from the depths of Cornwall, and everyone knows that whatever you eat on a road trip does not count. (Same is true for anything off a child's plate).

So, I bought a family sized pack of Rowntree's Fruit Gums. After all, we are a family of five.

(I conveniently ignored the fact that I am the only one in the family who actually likes fruit gums).

I resolved to eat just a few. Spread out through the journey. I'd then put the rest away until the next road trip.

But once I started, I just couldn't stop. My hand just kept moving from the pack to my mouth as if it had a life of its own.

By the time we'd reached Yeovil, there were hardly any left.

I decided they'd all have to go, otherwise they'd just be sitting there as a reminder of my terrible gluttony, constantly calling to me.

So, just two hours into the journey and I was on a major sugar high, jaw aching, a raging post sugar thirst, and feeling rather disgusted with myself.

I was reminded of sw6mum's comment about the book The Happiness Project (which I must read), and how it categorises people into two personality types: moderators (people who are happy cutting down), and abstainers (people who are happier cutting out).

No prizes for guessing which one is me....

Happy Friday to you all.

Love SM x

Reasons to Quit Drinking #8: Because it's Easier

Before you start yelling at me, please note I said easier, not easy.

What we all secretly desire is to be like those intensely irritating people who can drink just one glass of wine and then stop. The ones who almost seem to forget they have a glass sitting in front of them.

I mean, what is all that about?

Our goal is to be able to cut down. To moderate. To be in control.

Well, I'm really sorry to have to break this to you, but once you're addicted to alcohol (and even seemingly moderate drinkers can be addicted), it might be possible to do all those things, but it is immensely hard work.

The problem with any addiction is that your brain has been wired to want MORE.

(For more on how your brain chemistry has been buggered up by alcohol read this one: Is Moderation Possible? Part 2)

So you either give in and just give it what it wants until you end up the classic low bottom drunk pouring vodka on the cornflakes, or you constantly fight it.

And constantly fighting is exhausting.

It's like being on a never ending diet. The more you try not to do something, the more you want it. The more you attempt not to think about it, the more it preys on your mind.

And, let's face it, we were never very good at restraint, moderation and denial in the first place, were we? That's what got us into this mess!

I know that sounds all rather depressing, so here's the GOOD NEWS....

You can fix it.

Remember when you were a child and all you were really bothered about was learning to do a wheelie on your new Chopper, and whether it was a better idea to spend your pocket money on a Sherbet Dib Dab or some Space Dust? You spent no time at all thinking about booze. Cherry Cola maybe.

Well, you really can go back there. Not to the 1970's, obviously (who'd want to?), but to a place where you don't have to worry about drinking, or not drinking, or how much drinking, or what you did while drinking, or anything at all to do with drinking.

All you need to do is to STOP. For long enough.

The tricky bit is that initially, instead of thinking about booze less, you'll think about it more. That's the addiction talking. The wily old wine witch putting up a fight.

You have to kill the old crone, and the only way to do that is to starve her of alcohol for long enough.

It takes around 100 days to get through the worst, and about six months before you start to feel completely free.

BUT, be warned, as soon as you have a drink, you breathe life back into the wine witch, and your addict brain is back with a vengeance.

(Read my post: The Obstacle Course for more on this one).

Please believe me, once you're out the other side (and you will get there) it's EASY. And you think why on earth did I struggle for so long?

Then it's your job to spread the word....

Love SM x

The Office Christmas Party

If you think that you used to get into terrible trouble at the office Christmas party, then spare a thought for Zoe Ball...

Regular readers will know that I am a teeny bit obsessed by celebrity drinkers (and ex drinkers), and may remember that back in May I wrote a post titled Celebrity Drinkers (click here).

I had a rant about celebs who (rightly) make a big song and dance about getting sober BUT then announce, to the world, that they are back to drinking in moderation!

Every time that happens it messes with the heads of hundreds of ex-drinkers.

We all start thinking "Well, if xxx can drink 'normally' after a year or two off the sauce, then so can I - hurrah! Crack open the Chablis."

One of the examples I quoted was Zoe Ball.

I'm particularly obsessed by Zoe, for several reasons:

(1) I like her

(2) She's the same age as me

(3) She's married to FatBoy Slim, whose name alone transports me back to my misspent youth and

(4) She was one of the key 'ladettes' of the early nineties who convinced legions of us that we could, and should, drink and party like the boys.

Well, on New Year's day 2009, after a night of 'total carnage', Zoe Ball quit boozing, with the help of a therapist who she saw daily to help her through detox.

She said 'I sat sobbing, knowing that if I didn't stop I'd be destroyed. I'd end up in a mental home.' Zoe's one of our tribe, you see.

Two months later, hubby Norman Cook (FatBoy's real name) went into residential rehab, and since then their once shaky (now very sober) marriage has gone from strength to strength.

Then, shock horror, just over a year ago Zoe announced that she had started drinking again in moderation.

Back then she said: 'Norm doesn't drink at all, but I have the odd one. To be honest, I can't handle the hangovers - I'm an all-or-nothing person. But I know that about myself, which is the key to stopping. Now I think 'moderation in everything.'

We're all 'all-or-nothing' people too, Zoe, that's why we can't drink!

But, needless to say, as soon as I read this the Wine Witch started cackling gleefully "See! See! And she was way worse than you! Go for it! Pour a large one!"

Subsequently, I've read a few articles where Zoe has talked about 'only having one cocktail' when she goes out, 'only drinking once a month,' or similar.

We all know those rules we set ourselves, don't we? And how quickly we break them.

Now, I like to think that I'm a nice person. Kind. Forgiving. Which is why I'm a little ashamed to admit that I was a teensy bit pleased to read about Zoe's antics after the It Takes Two wrap party a few days ago....

Zoe, it appears, got plastered, and snogged a publicity hungry boyband singer half her age in a nightclub in Soho.

Oops. Not a great display of 'moderation in everything.'

I love you, Zoe, so please, for your sake, and for Norm and the kids, quit the booze again.

And, while you're at it, do us all a favour and tell the world that if you are an addict, an all-or-nothing type, then moderation really isn't going to work.

So, my friends, if you're - like me - finding the idea of a sober Christmas and New Year difficult, and you're thinking maybe I could just have the one....

.....then remember Zoe Ball and crack open a(n alcohol free) Becks Blue instead.

Moderation: it's not possible, and it's not worth it. (Repeat, ad infinitum)

Big hugs to all of you, and to Zoe and Fatboy,

SM x

P.S. If you find this post, Zoe, mail me on sobermummy@gmail.com and I'll pop round with a thermos of hot chocolate.

Willpower

A common reaction when I tell people that I haven't touched alcohol for several months is "Wow, you have amazing willpower!"

For a few moments I revel in the impression of myself as a woman of substance. With backbone. Serious inner strength. I pity mere mortals and their lack of gumption.

Then I remember that, in truth, I have the willpower of a moth, constantly flying into a hot lightbulb. I am almost entirely willpowerless.

You see, we drinkers - I believe - are natural hedonists. If we like doing something, we like doing more of it. We do not like to deprive ourselves.

We give our wills free reign. We let them go crazy. We don't believe in keeping our wills, or anything else for that matter, in check.

This makes us really fabulously interesting and exuberant people. (See Why Ex-drinkers Rock). But it does also get us into a lot of trouble. Eventually.

If I did, actually, have a great deal of willpower then I wouldn't have to give up drinking. I would be able to have a glass of wine, once in a while, and then stop! That's what willpower is about.

Bill Wilson, the co-founder of AA, argued that the 'test' for alcoholism wasn't whether or not you could quit drinking for a week, or a month at a time, but whether you could drink just one drink then stop, every evening for a week. Now that takes willpower.

That I could not do. (See Am I an Alcoholic? Part 2)

The problem with constantly having to assert willpower is that it is exhausting! Because the more you concentrate on not doing something, the more you want to do it.

You live in a constant state of denial and dissatisfaction. You use up loads of space in your head, fighting with yourself, leaving you little room for doing anything more constructive.

It's a truly miserable way to live.

That's why quitting drinking is a vastly better idea than 'moderating.' Because if you're 'moderating' you have to use your willpower ALL THE TIME. But, if you quit altogether, then, after a while (about 100 days), you no longer have to use any willpower at all. Or hardly ever. Because you no longer want to drink.

And that, for we wonderful, pleasure seeking hedonists, is a great relief.

So whenever I get complimented on my amazing willpower, I just smile enigmatically, thinking "oh you ignorant, ordinary normie. If only you knew...."

But you do know, don't you?

Love SM x

Related posts: Moderation. Is it Possible? and Moderation. Is it Possible? Part 2

Did I Overreact?

The problem with 'getting better', getting to the point where it seems so normal being sober that you can't remember what the problem was, is that the Wine Witch immediately senses the chink in the armour and dives in there with the question.....

......did I overreact?

Bet you've been there! It goes like this: so now I've been sober for x days I realise that I'm perfectly able to cope without alcohol. It's great! I'd never, ever want to go back to drinking x bottles of x per week. That would be madness!

.....But, typical me, in my all-or-nothing way, I overreacted with this 'total abstinence' malarkey. Now I see the light, I can have just one drink on special occasions.  After all, I'm not a 'proper' alcoholic. I never did x or y. Luckily I nipped it all in the bud just in time. Phew!

I have this one playing on an endless loop. At least once a week it reappears.

At this point I often re-read Jason Vale. But I'm bored reading the same book over again. So I've found 'Alcohol Lied to Me' by Beck. So far it's the same argument, just put in a different way, which makes a refreshing change.

So, the next time you get the 'did I overreact' bug, remember this:

The word 'alcoholic' is a red herring. Everyone who drinks alcohol (an addictive poison) is addicted to some extent, the question is just 'how badly?'

The issue with separating people into 2 camps: 'normal' and 'alcoholic' is, firstly, we spend stupid amounts of time trying to work out which camp we're in (remember all those ridiculous questionnaires?!?) as absolutely no-one ever wants to be in the second camp.

Secondly, the accepted conclusion is that if we're in the first camp we should carry on merrily, regardless of our doubts and the problems alcohol causes us.

But, if we're in the second camp, we HAVE to stop. No free will involved. In fact, according to AA, we should 'surrender' our free will and give ourselves up to a 'higher power'.

Here's how I think about it instead:

I don't care (any more) whether or not I am, or you think I am, an alcoholic.

I was, definitely, addicted to alcohol. No shame in that. Millions of people are.

I didn't HAVE to stop drinking, I CHOSE to stop drinking, because I realise that my life is immeasurably better without it.

I CHOOSE not to have even one drink because I know that that will allow the addiction to creep back in, and also because I've realised that I DO NOT NEED IT.

Alcohol took away my free will, but now I have it back and I am strong and fearless (most of the time!)

So long as you see quitting as being something you 'have' to do, so long as you envy the 'normal' drinker and see yourself as 'abnormal' it will be hard, if not impossible.

It doesn't need to be. CHOOSE to do this, for yourself, because it's better. You are not denying yourself anything; you are giving yourself a wonderful gift.

SM x

Moderation and Dieting

I was reading Shane Watson's column in the Times Magazine yesterday.

I've always liked Shane Watson. The title of yesterday's article was 'Why I Hate People on Diets.'

As I read it, chuckling away, it struck me that trying to drink 'moderately' is very much like being on a diet.

Here's what Shane says about dieters - see if it rings any bells:

They (moderators) are unrelaxed and unrelaxing, reek of self denial and vibrate with unfinished business. For obvious reasons they tend to have a short fuse (who wouldn't, with the day stretching ahead with only three litres of Evian (one glass of wine) to look forward to), and God help you if a long-anticipated meal (drink) is held up for any reason....

....they are wired and restless and keen to get to the next stage, and then the next stage, before they finally collapse into bed and lie there, jaws clamped tight.

Remember all that? I think part of the reason we dread sobriety is that we've all played with moderation and assume that being sober is just the same but endless.

But it's not! Sober is like ditching the diet and eating what you want, it's just that you've got to the point where you no longer want to eat (drink) the bad stuff.

So, I'm nodding along, feeling smug, when Shane says: saying "I'm no carbs" is like saying "I'm teetotal."

Can you hear the implied scorn? I've always hated Shane Watson.

She goes on: dieters have....made us self-conscious about food. They've taken one of the most enjoyable things in life and made it awkward. That's why I hate people on diets: because they affect the way I feel about food and the role food plays in my life. Eating normally seems....like showing off.

With a horrible sinking feeling I recognised that that is exactly how people see 'teetotallers' at a dinner party. Party poopers. Fun suckers. Energy drains.

We make them question their own habits, and we make them self conscious about drinking in front of us.

That's why I usually stay quiet.

I let people fill up my wine glasses which I then don't touch. It's not because I'm ashamed of being sober - I'm not, quite the reverse.

It's because I'm worried that however much they pretend to admire me and be impressed, they're secretly thinking "bloody hell, they've sat me next to the sober person! Beam me up, Scotty!"

Love SM x

Envy and the 'Moderate Drinker'

Day 117.

We all, at least occasionally, envy the 'moderate drinker.'

My husband is one. I watch him sneak his bottle of Saint Emilion out from behind a row of books in our playroom (he's taken to hiding bottles just like an alkie housewife!), and pour one glass to drink while we watch TV.

One glass! Much as I love him, sometimes I feel this urge to stick my fingers in his eyes (and you wonder why he's hiding the bottles!).

When I was a thirty a day smoker (see the pattern here?) I used to envy the moderate smoker with a vengeance.

Then I read Alan Carr. He pointed out that the housewife who limits herself to 5 cigarettes a day is just as addicted as the pack a day smoker. She is utterly reliant on those five and can't quit any easier than I could.

In fact, her life is more miserable, as - because she is defying her inner addict - she has to constantly deal with cravings, whereas I would just satisfy mine.

This, for me, was an epiphany. And, funnily enough, whilst I quit smoking thirteen years ago, my five-a-day friends are still chuffing away and are desperate to stop, especially now their children are older and they find themselves smoking more and more each day.

I now realise that the same is true of drinking. I'm sure that there are people out there who are totally 'take it or leave it' about alcohol, and not in the slightest addicted (although I suspect that they also don't really enjoy it that much - in which case, what's the point?), but there are also vast numbers of people who are just as addicted to their 'moderate amounts' as we were to our bottles a day. And many of them are miserable about it.

I received an e-mail yesterday from Fiona (not her real name), who kindly agreed that I could share her story. Here's what she said:

My problem is I don't drink that much - comparatively that is, but still it disrupts my life. I used to drink just one glass of wine 1-2 times a week when we ate out.  Now it is hard for me to stop at 1 glass, usually I have another and sometimes even a third when we get home, still only 1-2 times a week but I feel cranky, tired and foggy the next day and I think why, why, why, at 50 would I want to waste about 20% of the last of my relatively youthful years feeling like this??? 

I try to picture myself in 20 years at 70 - eegads - and I know if at 70 someone said to me, here you can live this extra year as yourself at age 50 I would loooove that, just as I would love to have a whole year of me at 30 right now, so why do I throw these days away like they aren't precious?? And looking like this too - as you mention, my face now shows it with this sickening puffiness.

So Fiona's tried to quit and, you know what? Not easy! Which is why she mailed me.

The truth is that stories like Fiona's are never going to make those articles in the Daily Mail about 'problem middle aged drinking'. Fiona would be seen as drinking 'sensibly', 'moderately', 'healthily', but it's still messing up her life and making her feel terrible.

The more blogs, books and e-mails I read, the more I realise that generalisations are useless and dangerous, and that none of us knows what goes on in other people's lives. Certainly no-one knew what was going on in mine!

So next time you envy the moderate drinker, just stop. It's terribly likely that (s)he is envying you....

Thank you, Fiona, from us all. Best of luck to you, and please keep in touch.

Have a fab Friday everyone!

SM x

Is Alcoholism a Disease? Part 2

Day 98! And huge congratulations to LushNoMore on making 100 days yesterday. Awesome work, LNM!

Apologies to those of you who are bored with this topic already after reading 'Is Alcoholism a Disease?' yesterday, but, having done more research, I felt I had to come back to it. Don't worry, I'll move onto something much lighter tomorrow!

My friend P, who has a proper post grad degree in addiction studies, sent me an academic paper entitled 'Addiction Disease Concept: Advocates and Critics' by the hugely respected researcher William L White.

If you want to read to paper then here is a link.

As Angie and Anne pointed out yesterday, it is certainly not black and white. In fact the debate has been raging amongst 'experts' for centuries.

White writes (there's a tongue twister!): "For more than 200 years America has vacillated over the question of whether excessive drug use is a disease, an illness, a sickness, a malady, an affliction, a condition, a behaviour, a problem, a habit, a vice, a sin, a crime, or some combination of these. A new century opens with debate over this question raging ever more intensely."

White then sets out, extremely cogently, the two extremes of the argument.

Now I still stand by my criticism of the 'disease concept' (as White called it) which was the basis of my rant yesterday. However, the opposite extreme is much worse!

The most vocal critics of the 'disease concept' include a chap called Jeffry Schaler, publisher of a book entitled 'Addiction is a Choice'.

Schaler argues that "the idea that addiction is a disease is the greatest medical hoax since the idea that masturbation makes you go blind."

According to Schaler, the addict chooses to take the drug, and - by the same token -  they can choose to stop. It is only because they are told they have an incurable disease that they do not. He believes that many people 'mature out' of addiction, and that they can learn to moderate.

Poppycock!

That is not how addictive narcotics work! People may choose to take them initially, but they do NOT choose to become addicted. Even those who decide to play with heroin believe that they are in control of it - until they are not. (Sound familiar?)

In the case of (the addictive narcotic) alcohol, we are led to believe that only a very small minority have the disease that makes copious consumption an issue. Its use is not only normalised and widespread, but advertised and glamorised.

There are no warnings on the bottle that we are playing fire by consuming a hugely addictive substance.

We do not choose to get addicted! Like the heroin addict, we think we are in control (we're told that 'normal' people are always in control) until we are not.

Then, according to Schaler, once addicted we should be able to 'choose' not to be. To moderate! Bollocks! Do we expect heroin addicts to be able to 'snap out of it?' Do we advise them to 'moderate'? Of course we don't!

A number of studies have shown that what causes addiction is a permanent shift in the brain chemistry - in the way we deal with and manufacture dopamine. Once a pickle, always a pickle.

When you've reached this point, the urge to take your drug is, as per the disease model, uncontrollable and unstoppable. And, like the disease model, moderation is not an option.

I looked up one of the old anti-drugs ads from 1987. Do you remember the 'heroin screws you up' campaign? Here's how the copy read:

At first you think you can control heroin.
But before long you'll start looking ill, losing weight and feeling like death.
Then one day you'll wake up knowing that, instead of you controlling heroin, it now controls you.
So, if a friends offers you heroin, you know what to say.

Alcohol is a slower burn addiction. And, at least initially, it makes you gain weight, not lose it. But, apart from that, same old, same old. And yet we condemn one drug whilst encouraging the widespread enjoyment of another.

Heroin screws you up, but alcohol relaxes you, gives you confidence, makes you more fun and sociable. "Just say no" to heroin, but say "make mine a double" to Scotch whisky. Where's the logic in that?

So, it's certainly not black and white. And despite the huge costs to individuals and society of 'alcoholism,' and centuries of research and debate, nobody seems to be able to agree what causes it or what to do about it.

What are we supposed to do in the midst of all this debate? Carry on not drinking, have a ball being alcohol free, and let them all fight it out.

Happy, hangover free Sunday everyone!

SM x

The Wine Witch

Day 91, and I've been thinking about the Wine Witch.

For me, the single most telling sign that you are no longer in control of alcohol, but it is in control of you is when you instinctively understand the concept of the 'wine witch.'

I only met her about 3 years ago. Until then, if you'd mentioned her name I would have had no idea what you were talking about.

Some people call her the 'inner addict' or the 'devil on the shoulder.' But, for many of us - particularly women - the 'Wine Witch' describes her perfectly.

At some point (for some, as soon as they start drinking in their teens, but for many of us not until our forties) she starts whispering in our ear, and from that moment on she becomes an increasingly intrusive presence.

The WW starts rather innocuously. She begins whispering "are you sure that's going to be enough? Perhaps best to buy another bottle just in case you run out." Then she gets a bit more competitive. Like "didn't he pour himself a much bigger glass than he poured you?"

She moves on to deviousness "Have a glass or two before you go out, then you won't need to drink so much when you're there." And ends up just plain weird "You bought wine from that shop yesterday. The cashier might remember. Go somewhere else."

The only way to shut up the wine witch is to drown her out - to give her as much alcohol as she wants. The reason why it's always a good idea to try moderating before quitting for good isn't just to prove to yourself that you can't do it, it's also because moderating is when the Wine Witch gets really loud and insistent. "ONE GLASS? THAT'S NOT ENOUGH! BARELY TOUCHED THE SIDES! WHAT ARE YOU? A WOMAN OR A MOUSE?" That's when you start to get the measure of your enemy. You know what you're up against.

I've been thinking about the WW since I went to stay at the parent's house (see Muscle Memory), because she started to become increasingly obvious when I was there. Which reminded me of another time when I couldn't ignore her any longer: Long Haul Flights.

Now I loved flying on Business. You were plied with free drinks, from the moment you got on the plane "complimentary champagne, madam?" to the moment you dropped off to sleep. "Digestif? Nightcap?"

But economy flights with the family were an altogether different proposition.

I became convinced that British Airways had changed their alcohol policy, that they'd become more parsimonious with the vino. Because whereas I used to be perfectly happy on long haul flights, they now made me really stressed. Surely they used to give you more than one drink pre dinner and wine with dinner? Now I suspect that the only thing that changed was me.

By the time we'd been through security etc. and boarded the plane I'd be desperate for a drink (despite the fact that I usually managed to have one in the airport). I'd have to wait until we were in the air and the trolley finally came out. I'd be riveted to the slow progress of the trolley down the aisle. For God's sake get a move on!!! Then, after dinner, and after the two smallish drinks I'd been given, I'd wrestle endlessly with the dilemma of whether I could call the stewardess over to ask for another wine.

I knew that if I did they'd give me one. I saw other people doing it (only a few, and mainly young men!). But I couldn't bear the idea of them judging me. Especially a mother travelling with three small children.

At moments like these the Wine Witch would go loopy. "CALL THE DAMN STEWARDESS! WHO CARES WHAT SHE THINKS!"

So when I first came across her name a few months ago on the Soberistas website it was like a light bulb switching on. Not only had someone named my demon, but I was obviously not the only one who'd met her.

I like to think that every day you go not drinking you drain more of the wine witch's power. Mine is now pretty much in a coma. She's still there, but she's weak, and she's not talking any more.

But the reason why you can't have one drink is that the wine witch never completely goes away once she's made herself at home. And one drink is all she needs to leap back into action. One drink and she starts saying "Look, that wasn't so bad, was it? Just one glass, like a normal drinker!"

Then, the next weekend she pops up again "You did so well last time! Have another. Just the one, mind." And that second glass gives her even more strength. Before you know it she's back, big time. Even more powerful than before.

If you're reading this thinking "Wine witch? What's she on about?" then pat yourself on the back. Feel grateful. Carry on drinking in moderation. But watch out, because once she starts whispering in your ear she's there forever.

Love SM x

Celebrity Drinkers

I love celebrity ex-drinkers. 'Alcoholics' have such a terrible image problem that we need a little bit of stardust from time to time.

Celebrity drinkers help people to understand that no-one is immune from the problems alcohol causes. They also provide a counterbalance to the 'sad, down-and-out wino in the gutter' image that people have of alkies. Celebs show that it is possible to be successful, admired, gorgeous and alcoholic.

Generally celebrities are generous with their PR. People like Michael J Fox, Russell Brand, Jamie Lee Curtis, Eric Clapton, Johnny Depp, Kristin Davis and many more have been open about their battles with alcohol (and other substances) and, therefore, supportive to the millions of other (non celeb) sufferers out there.

But then you get the occasional celeb who - accidentally - drops a bomb into the sobersphere.

Having spent years proclaiming the joys of being sober and the evils of the drink, they suddenly announce that they are now 'able to drink in moderation.'

At this point every newly sober person out there starts thinking "Hurrah! X says that 'after a period of abstinence' it's OK to drink again. Yee hah! Crack open the champagne."

The wine witch is back out of her box and sitting on your shoulder. Damn them.

I've ranted about this already (see Moderation. Is it possible?) using the example of Lara Stone.  Rachel Black and Nikkinuts commented that Zoe Ball did the same thing. And here's another one: Sally Bercow.

Non UK readers will probably never have heard of Sally Bercow. She's the wife of a prominent politician (Speaker of the House of Commons). She's an inveterate self-publicist who is constantly on Twitter and in the gossip columns.

Sally has been very open about her issues with alcohol. She says that in her twenties she would drink one or two bottles of wine a day and had a string of one night stands with dodgy men.

She quit in 2002 and said that she would never drink again. Things seemed to go ok. She got married to a very successful guy, had three children and carved out a career for herself as a 'media celebrity' and commentator.

But then, in 2012, she started drinking again. She told her 5,000 Twitter followers: "It's fine to drink after some time out - some people can handle it."  Aaarrrgghhh! How many ex-drinkers did that tweet (and its subsequent discussion in the media) derail, Sally?

So, can Sally handle it? Well, apparently not.

Since she started drinking again Sally has been photographed many times falling out of taxis in the early hours flashing her underwear. Then she was all over the press snogging a fitness trainer in a nightclub, visibly plastered. She was sued for slander on Twitter.

And now she's been interviewed, alternately weepy then effing and blinding, confessing to a year long affair with her husband's cousin.

When asked how the affair stared she cites "a mutual appreciation of fine wine." We know what this really means. It means that hubby has been trying to get her to stop drinking (as 'friends' have reported in the media), so Sally has been avoiding him in favour of spending time with someone else 'who appreciates fine wine.'

When the story broke, did the cousin stand by poor, battered, self loathing Sally? Oh no. He hotfoots it straight back to the wife and child. Sally says she is 'heartbroken.'

Meanwhile all of this is all over everywhere, for ever and ever, for Sally's three children to be haunted by, for their entire lives.

Now everyone seems to be laying into Sally and despising the poor lass. I don't. How could I? We all know how it happens. We know what she's going through.

But Sally, please, please STOP APPRECIATING FINE WINE! It does not appreciate you! Ditch the drink. Spend some proper time with your kids, whatever you decide to do about the husband.

Then please tell the world that, sadly, however much 'time out' you have, it really is best not to have another drink.....

Love to you all, and to Sally,

SM

What's so Great About Moderation Anyway?

Day 71. For some reason I believe that 100 is the magic number, and that when I get there I'll be over the wall and into the Promised Land. Only 29 more days to go....

Regular readers will know that I, like many of you I imagine, am obsessed by the idea of moderation (stick it in bold). That's moderation (looks even more appealing in italics). MODERATION! (Too much perhaps?).

The reason 'moderation' is our holy grail, and the wine witch's most deadly ammunition, is that - whilst we never want to go back to opening the second bottle of wine, or the totally unnecessary bottle drunk on our own while watching telly, or the sneaky half bottle at 4.30pm while cooking the children's supper - we would dearly love to be able to keep the really 'special ones'.

My special ones would include a glass of rose in the garden with the husband on the first hot day of the year. The chilled glass of white to celebrate arriving at your summer holiday destination. A glass of champagne at a wedding or New Year's Eve. A punchy red with the Christmas Turkey. I'd better not go on or I'll be cracking open the cooking sherry....

If only we could have just those. Can I do a deal with the universe? I'll be really, really good. I'll make all the children, and even the dog, go to church every Sunday. I'll volunteer for every local charity and give all my spare cash to the homeless if I can just keep the special ones.

Then, as I was reading 'Drink' by Ann Dowsett Johnston I got to a passage where she explained that her mother - who was a chronic, low bottom, drunk and had a huge negative impact on Ann's childhood - at the age of seventy gave up all booze except two glasses of wine a day, mixed with coca cola.

WHAT?!?!? Firstly, how the hell did she do that? And, secondly, if you're only going to drink 2 glasses of wine a day, why on earth would you ruin them by mixing them with Coke???

This got me thinking, yet again, that maybe - just maybe - the whole 'moderation' malarkey is possible....

But then I thought STOP RIGHT THERE SOBERMUMMY! We've been through all this before. We know that one leads to another and another (see Moderation. Is it possible? and Moderation is it possible? Part 2). And, here's the new bit, even if moderation were possible, would it be any good in any case?

Ann Dowsett Johnston says that her Mum would pour the first of her yicky drinks at 6pm on the dot, and the second one also at a precise time. Now WE KNOW that she would have been looking at her watch constantly from about 4pm and fighting off the wine witch. Even if we had that self control would we really want to have to exercise it EVERY SINGLE DAY for the rest of our lives?

Plus, I don't know about you, but the one 'special drink' was never enough for me. It didn't provide enough of the buzz, or the numbness, or whatever I was looking for at the time. All it did was make me want the next glass.

And, finally, if we were able to 'moderate', to keep to one glass of wine a day, or whatever, we would never get to experience all the benefits of being properly sober, properly present, properly in control. All we would be doing is constantly stoking that desire for more, and forever feeling deprived.

So, for the first time since I quit the booze I am, genuinely, starting to think not "can I moderate?" but "who the hell would want to?" and that, my friends, is PROGRESS!

Plus the sun is shining.

Love to you all

SM x

Moderation. Is it possible? Part 2

Day 55. Since I wrote Moderation. Is it possible? I found a fabulous insight into the topic in Caroline Knapp's 'Drinking, a love story,' so I thought is was a subject worth revisiting.

Knapp explores the neurological and physiological reasons behind alcohol addiction. Don't panic, I'm going to explain this in easy terms so that I can unserstand it properly, as well as you!

She explains that when the brain is 'excessively and repeatedly' exposed to alcohol (that'll be me then!) its natural systems of craving and reward are screwed up.

When we drink, our brain's reward system is artificially activated, and it produces dopamine. Dopamine is the brain's 'feel good' chemical. Over time, the brain susses out that it's producing far too much of the stuff, so it compensates by kicking into reverse gear and actively decreases our base levels of dopamine.

That's why, over time, drinkers feel more and more depressed, and start to believe that only alcohol will make us feel better. We're not actually wrong. Drinking enables us to produce dopamine again. What we fail to understand, however, is that it was drinking that caused the problem in the first place.

Effectively, we reach a tipping point where alcohol stops being the solution and starts being the problem.

The good news is that as soon as we stop drinking our brain gets back into balance, and starts producing the happy hormone again all on its own. In fact, in the beginning it can overcompensate. A bit like a rubber band pinging back into position, it initially overshoots. This is why ex drinkers experience the 'pink cloud' stage, followed by a series of ups and downs as our brains struggle to find equilibrium again.

The bad news is that by now our brains have been hard wired to believe that alcohol equals pleasure. Years of our dopamine levels being controlled by alcohol have, in effect, created the 'wine witch' in our heads. And the only way to shut up the wine witch is to not drink.

Knapp uses the best analogy I've heard to explain why alcohol addicts can't drink 'normally' again - that of cucumbers and pickles. She says that you can stop a cucumber turning into a pickle, but once it is a pickle it can never be a cucumber again.

If you're reading this thinking 'am I a cucumber still, or am I already a pickle?' have a look at 'Am I an alcoholic? Part 2' and try Bill Wilson's moderation test. If you find it impossible, over a decent length of time, to stick to drinking just one small drink a day then it is probable that your brain chemistry has already gone haywire. You have, in effect, pickled it.

I know this all sounds a bit depressing but, on the upside, it shows that you are NOT weak willed or pathetic. You are dealing with powerful physiological forces that 'normal drinkers' don't have to face. It is not your fault - it's the fault of the drug.

Plus, there are physiological reasons why you're feeling miserable (if you are) and you will get better. In fact, once we sort out our bain chemistry we should be able to feel as good as we ever did after a large glass of vino all the time!

Have a great weekend, all you fabulous pickles,

SM x

Related Posts: Moderation. Is it possible? What's so great about moderation anyway?

Moderation. Is it possible?

Moderation. The elephant in the room. The giant enchilada. The hairy chestnut.

I've avoided this one up until now because it's so emotive. A virtual fight broke out recently on one of the sober websites over this topic. Some newer members were discussing moderation and 'just cutting down' in a positive way, and some of the older (wiser?) members got so cross that they abandoned their subscriptions.

The reason this subject is so highly charged is that, at least in the early days of sobriety, many of us hold onto the idea of moderation as the holy grail. The ultimate fairy tale fantasy. Being able to, eventually, raise a glass of chilled champagne with friends and family at a special event, end then - without regret - stop.

Discussing this possibility (fairytale?) is dangerous because, for all of us, it gives ammunition to the wine witch.  Her most fiendish argument is when she whispers into our ear 3 month, 6 months, 1 year in and says "you've done so well! You've really re-calibrated your relationship with alcohol. Now you have a clean sheet of paper. You can start again. Differently. Moderately. You were never a really bad drinker anyway. You never reached that 'rock bottom'. Go on! Just have the one!"

Every time I hear about a properly thirsty (how many euphemisms can I find to avoid the 'alcoholic' word?) drinker giving up and then re-starting - moderately - I feel this surge of hope that I then have to sit on and squish really hard.

Here's an example: When comedian David Walliams married the supermodel Lara Stone she, very openly, discussed her issues with alcohol (she used to drink cocktails for breakfast) and her time in rehab in South Africa. Then, in interviews last summer, she said that she was wasn't being as 'strict' about alcohol and was drinking moderately. A couple of months ago she and David split up.

I have become weirdly obsessed by Lara (who I had no interest in before). Is she still 'drinking moderately'? Did she go back into rehab? What happened?

And this is the problem. Every time one of us claims to be drinking 'moderately' we offer (false?) hope to everyone. And, very often, no-one gets to hear how it all ended. It just goes silent.

I was reading one sober blog a while ago on this subject, and the author said whenever one of her readers was insistent about trying moderation she would, eventually, say 'go on then. Try it. And if it works, come back and tell us all about it.' And, to date, no-one ever has.

I have tried moderation in the past, after a couple of months of total abstinence. Here's how it goes for me:

Some 'trigger event' leads the wine witch to pull out the big guns (see above), and I pour a glass of wine. This does not lead to a 3 day bender and me ending up knickerless in a gutter. Oh no. It's far more insidious than that...

I don't actually enjoy that first glass all that much - it tastes sort of vinegary, not the way I remember. I think "See! I don't even like it that much any more! Ha ha. Put the cork back in the bottle and leave it there for ever. Or, at least until it's a really special occasion."

2 weeks later. It's a mildly special occasion. "I can have a glass of wine! I did so well last time! It's been two weeks already." Drink 3 glasses of wine.

Within 2 more weeks I'd be drinking every weekend, then every time we went out, then every day except Monday and Tuesday, then every day after 7pm...yada, yada, yada. Back to square one.

I had an 'ah ha' moment recently thanks to Anne's fabulous blog ainsobriety. With her usual, beautifully written, straight talking common sense, Anne said 'a normal (if that word even means anything) drinker does not feel the need to write a sober blog.' Or, I expect, to read sober blogs. That sentence has been stuck in my head for days - because she's right.

When I asked at the end of my last post what was over The Wall, Anne replied 'freedom'. I've been thinking about what freedom looks like, and, for me, this is it:

When I quit my chronic, 30 a day, smoking habit (see a pattern here? Just don't let me take up online bingo!) I thought that 'nirvana' was being able to smoke just 2 or 3 a day. One after work, 2 after dinner. Just the best ones. For at least a couple of years I would have leapt at the promise of being able to do this. If I'd been told I only had a month to live I would have immediately taken up smoking.

But at some point (and I wish I knew exactly when), that yearning left me. Now I loathe the idea of smoking 2 or 3 a day. The last thing I'd do with my final month on earth is to spend it smoking.

That's where I want to get to with alcohol because that, my friends, is real freedom. Is anyone there yet? Is it possible?

Wishing you all a fabulous Friday!

SM x

Related posts: Secret Drinker hits the High Bottom, Am I an Alcoholic? Am I an Alcoholic? Part 2
Moderation. Is it possible? Part 2 What's so great about moderation anyway? Celebrity Drinkers

Am I an Alcoholic? Part 2

Day 44, and I'm still wrestling with this question.

In my general trawl of sober blogs, books, articles and all things alcohol related, I came across an article which, for me, was a real 'Ah ha!' moment.

The piece, 'A dry January could be a sign of a drink problem', was published in The Telegraph in January last year by Tom Sykes, an ex drinker.

Tom argues that giving up alcohol for January (as he did himself, many times) is not necessarily helpful, as it can give the illusion that you don't have a problem.

I gave up alcohol in January 2014, and for two months (more or less) in the summer of 2013. Like Tom, I argued to myself that this achievement meant that I was categorically not an alcoholic. I was just a bit thirsty.

Tom argues that most people can manage to give up alcohol for a month. The real test is the one advocated by Bill Wilson - the co-founder of AA - and it involves drinking. But just one drink at a time.

Bill believed that alcoholics suffer an 'allergic reaction' to alcohol that makes it impossible to moderate. Once they start drinking they develop an overwhelming urge to drink more.

So, if you want to know if you have a problem with alcohol try drinking just one glass of wine, then stopping. See if you can repeat this every evening for a week. I might have been able to stop drinking for January, but I definitely couldn't pass Bill Wilson's test.

Here's how my week of 'one glass a day' would go:

Monday: Pour large glass wine. Sit on hands to stop self pouring more. Yell at husband and kids and go to bed by 9pm in order to get away from the fridge. Tell self that am very clever and have definitely proved the point.

Tuesday: Repeat with larger glass of wine, bigger argument and earlier bedtime. Congratulate self more, especially given the particularly stressful day I've had.

Wednesday: Since today is even more stressful 2 glasses of wine seems fair enough. It's a stupid test anyway. After all, I can give up for a whole month, so this proves nothing.

Thursday: Pour two glasses. Hell, Thursday is the new Friday. It's the weekend! Finish the bottle! Well done me. I made it through the week.

Denial is a river in Egypt.

I still have problems with the label 'alcoholic' (see Am I an Alcoholic?), but thank you, thank you Tom for further convincing me that I am definitely doing the right thing.

Love to you all SM x

Related posts: 5 signs that you're a problem drinker

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?

Sundays - Hair of the Dog

Happy Sunday Morning Everyone!

Sometimes I feel like I'm living in a parallel universe where everything has ended up back to front. I remember when I was a child I used to think that if I dug a hole deep enough I'd end up in Australia where everything would be kind of similar but we'd all be standing upside down. (Did any of my Australian readers imagine ending up in London?). Well, giving up a chronic alcohol habit is a bit like that. For example, in the BS (Before Sober) days, Friday nights and Saturday nights were the best, and Sunday mornings were the pits. Now, AF (Alcohol Free), Friday and Saturday nights are the hardest BUT Sunday Mornings are our reward!

One of the best things about glorious, empty but filled with promise and expectation, Sunday Mornings AF is remembering the horror of Sunday Mornings BS. So here's a trip down memory lane:

4am Sunday morning: wake up, head pounding, dry mouth, dying for a wee. Gradually try to piece together exactly what led to feeling like this. Wish I hadn't. Lots of self hatred and self flagellation and empty promises to self to change. Endless trips to the loo and the fridge to get more water. Toss and turn until about 6.30am. Go back to sleep until woken up by kids and dog at 7ish. Try really hard not to be grumpy and horrible. Fail. Spend all morning wishing time away until midday when I can 'reasonably' open a bottle of wine 'while I'm getting lunch ready'. Watch minute hand on kitchen clock obsessively because I cannot drink in the morning. Only alcoholics do that, and I am not an alcoholic. Open bottle at 11.50am so glass is ready for midday. Drink first glass wine fast. Feel much better.

It strikes me now that one of the core differences between 'normal' drinkers and 'overly enthusiastic' drinkers is their attitude to hangovers. I was always amazed at people who would refuse a drink at Sunday lunch because they'd drunk too much the night before and 'couldn't face it'. Surely they knew that the only way to 'face it' was to drink more? I was an enthusiastic proponent of  'hair of the dog'.

The phrase 'hair of the dog' comes from a time when - bizarrely - it was believed that the cure for rabies was to put the 'hair of the dog that bit you' onto the rabid dog bite. There is also a great Swahili phrase for drinking off a hangover: kuzimua which means being assisted to wake up after a coma.

A recent scientific study Proof: the science of booze by Adam Rogers claims that 'hair of the dog' really is the only effective cure for a hangover. This is because alcoholic drinks contain methanol, which is poisonous, and doctors treat methanol poisoning with ethanol i.e. alcohol.

There is another, more worrying, reason why 'hair of the dog' works according to alcoholrehab.com and it's this: 'A common reason why heavy drinkers experience hangovers is that they have actually entered the early stages of withdrawal. By drinking alcohol the next morning they are preventing these withdrawal symptoms from taking hold.' Seems obvious, but I'd honestly never thought of it like that!

I checked out the good old National Health Service website for their advice on hangover cures, and found this classic line: 'The best way to avoid a hangover is not to drink.' Well no shit Sherlock (as they say, but not in front of the kids, obviously, or it's another pound in the swear box). But, acutally, that is what I am doing! And it's Sunday morning. Beautiful, glorious, Sunday morning, and I feel amazing!

So, here's my plan for the day. I will not be grumpy and clock watchy all morning followed by drunk and asleep most of the afternoon. Oh no. I am taking #1 and dog to park this morning for good walk and girlie chat. Come back and cook roast beef and Yorkshire pudding for lunch (oh yes, my French readers, it is not for nothing that you call us 'les rosbifs') Have judging of the great cheesecake bake off (yesterday husband and #1, inspired by the Great British Bake Off on TV, had an argument about who could make the best cheesecake. Their efforts, plus one from Waitrose, are in the fridge awaiting the family blind taste test). Collapse with Sunday papers. Take #2 and #3 to pet shop to buy birthday presents for the dog. Have birthday tea (with dog food cake and candles) for said dog. Play massive game of Monopoly or similar. Put kids in bed and watch 3 episodes back-to-back of latest box set with husband. Collapse into bed sober and happy.

So, Sundays are still about 'the dog'. But this one's six years old today, smelly, furry and totally loveable.

Enjoy your Sober Sunday my sober friends! And if you're reading this with a chronic hangover, pondering giving it all up then please join us!

Love SM x

Fed up Friday - Angst and Wobbles

I suppose it was bound to happen. The last 19 days have been tough, but I've been generally positive about what I'm doing. I've been determined, upbeat, sometimes verging on euphoric (see my post from last Sunday on Mindfulness). Then last night I hit a wall.

It was Friday. The end of the week. I've done really well this week. And last week. And the week before. I just felt that I really deserved to be able to treat myself, let my hair down, go wild. Yet we have NO PLANS this weekend. None at all (except the usual kid based activities). I deliberately didn't organise any social events and we've had no invitations. Nada. Does everyone hate me because I'm a drunk? Does everyone hate me because I'm not a drunk? Aaarrrgghhh.

So, I pick #2 up from school. #1 and #3 have playdates (alright for some). I feel an overwhelming need to indulge. The boy and I go to a café and I order a piece of carrot cake. It must be at least half vegetable, right? When it arrives it's almost as big as my head, and doesn't look in the slightest vegetably. How can they serve portions that big? How could I have finished it? I feel physically sick, but no happier.

In the fridge I have 6 Becks Blue beers (alcohol free). I've never tried one of these, but I'd bought them especially for the weekend, thinking that I'd have one at the old 'wine o'clock'. I make it as far as 4.45pm (plus ca change!) and then crack open the (alcohol free) beer. Spookily, it looks just the same (not quite as much 'head'), tastes just the same and even makes me feel light headed. I double check the bottle. It is alcohol free. Either they're playing a sick joke or my head is so finely tuned to expect to feel drunk that it's slipped into that mode automatically!

Once I've drunk the beer and the light headedness has worn off I feel even worse. I'm fed up with being 'boring'. I'm fed up with the constant dialogue in my head about alcohol, with spending hours each day reading about it and writing about it and not getting anything else done. I'm not sure I want to live my life on an even keel rather than a roller coaster.

6.30pm and I have to pick up #1 and #3. I remind myself that in the 'old days' this would have caused me endless angst. Either I would have had to delay drinking on a Friday night until 7.30pm when I got the girls back home OR I would have spent ages working out how much I could drink without being over the limit or looking worse for wear to the girls' hostesses. As it was, I jumped in the car totally sober.

Husband came home, opened fridge and brightened up visibly when he saw the beer. "Just what I need after cycling home from the City!" You should have seen his face when he spotted the 'alcohol free' flash. Oh God, I'm ruining his life too! He sneaks a glass of wine from the kitchen cupboard surreptitiously, so as not to rub it in my face. I think about how much I'd love to rub a glass of wine in my face. Then neck it in one. I reminisce fondly about our decades of evenings sharing a bottle of wine (conveniently forgetting the fact that I'd usually have 'pre-loaded' with at least another half bottle first).

We watch a family movie. #2 and #3 have a god almighty barney about who gets which end of the sofa and spend ages 'accidentally' kicking each other. I wish (again) that I could self-medicate with the bottle of St Emilion that the husband's hid behind his chair. I look back at some of my early posts and I think "OMG I sound so smug."

The wine witch starts whispering in my ear. I try desperately to beat her off. She says: "It's Friday night! You need to be able to celebrate the weekend!" I think back "But it's not just Friday night, is it? It's Monday, Tuesday, Wednesday and every other night." She says "Just have one! That can't do any harm." I remind myself "It wouldn't be just one, would it? It would be the whole bottle." She says "You've done nearly three weeks! You'll have re-defined your relationship with alcohol. Now you can moderate!" Well, now she's bought out the big guns. The classic moderation argument. I've been here before - again and again. I know that even if I can 'moderate' for a while it won't be long before I'm back where I started, doing DAY 1 all over again.

So, I remind myself again and again about how bad it got. I re-read Secret Drinker hits the High Bottom. Then I think about all of you guys - about Kags, Justine, Wendy, Laura, Jen, Emily, Bethany and everyone else who's been kind enough to post comments. I think about my lovely friend, Philippa (now 9 years sober and an addiction counsellor) who is the only person I know who has my blog url. And the main reason I don't physically wrestle the Saint Emilion from the husband and drink it from the bottle is that I don't want to let you all down.

So thank you all, because today I feel much better. Apart from the fact that I seem to have gained a pound in the last 24 hours - damned carrot cake.

Onwards and upwards, soberly.....