Will I really drink never again? I’m fine now with not drinking day-to-day. But when people at work suggest going out for a meal or for drinks I think… what’s the point?
I used to love going out with my work colleagues for drinks, and to play darts after work (yes – I’ve played darts for years!) but now, without the drink, I just can’t see the point. Why would I want to hang around with a load of people drinking when I’m….. not? Does that reveal that I don’t really like my work friends? That I only ever went out FOR the booze? Probably.
We used to have a great time – I’d laugh until my belly ached. I’d drink cider, get drunk, make hilariously inappropriate jokes, sing, and stumble about and usually make it home just in time to spin out and then try to sleep – with one foot on the ground followed by a horrific hangover the next day… what fun!?
When I watch my favourite TV shows like Cold Feet, or Sex and the City, or the Good Wife, there they all are with their big beautiful glasses of wine, adding sparkle to any occasion. Occasionally I dream about buggering off to leave on a tropical beach somewhere where I would live in a bikini and sarong with a big floppy hat, my kindle and….. a nice lager? All of the dreamy lovely pictures of fun and relaxation include a beautifully shaped glass with an ice cold bevarage. Pimms with all of the trimmings maybe. Why can’t I have that anymore?
Lately I’ve been thinking, maybe if I do a year, get my head straight, continue with the wonderful life coaching podcasts, and my therapy sessions, and generally improve my mental wellbeing and get everything nice and in order, I can go back to it one day. But with everything nice and in order in my brain so that I don’t end up back where I was…. drinking too much and suffering from anxiety. That could be me, right?
But then I remember how I was always thinking about drink. Is it time yet? How much can I have? Not wanting to get drunk and embarrass myself. Not enjoying a day out with the family after about 3/4pm as my mind has flipped to it’s probably time to find a pub….
There is no denying the fact that for some reason drinking creates a sense of occasion, it elevates any situation to something everso slightly more special. Even if it’s just a bottle of wine on the sofa with the evening’s telly. I miss it. I miss the excitement in the evening of a glass of something. I miss the excitement at the weekend. I miss the excitement of arriving somewhere and having a drink as a reward for making it there. A drink to kick-start the weekend, the holiday, a beer when we put the tent up. That treat. Even though it was a treat I had every.single.day. I miss drinking with my husband, it was our thing. I feel like something is missing in our relationship now that a shared drink is no longer there. He drinks on his own now and I’m not a part of it, and that makes me sad.
I know I can’t go back to drinking. I know it. It had taken over my mind and it got into every corner of what I did. It made me feel anxious and shame. I don’t want that for me or for my kids.
But I miss it.