I love this image that my crazily talented god daughter drew. I related to it instantly, it sums up how I felt half stuck in a wine glass. I am so glad to be out of that wine glass and walking tall again.
So at 416 days sober, I could add on an extra six months and then say I relapsed for about a year which makes my total of “sober” days even higher but I wont. If I did I would have to add on my pregnancies and breastfeeding times and then the 16 years I had being sober as a child before I got my first fun hit of alcohol. All way too complicated. But what a great time to start a blog!
Fact is I have a whole bunch of sober days under my belt and life could not be better for it!
I had to peel off a bandaid, a bandaid that had been stuck for a long time and left a nasty raw vulnerable feeling that was my world for the first days, weeks and months of being sober. I felt like I was wearing my underwear on the outside but not in a good Wonder Woman kind of way. The good news is that in allowing that bandaid to come off, life has taken on a whole new aspect of freedom and feeling. Qualities I thought I had but really didn’t when I was numbing and sedating myself with wine.
I spent years and years literally stuck. I went round and round in ever decreasing circles trying to get my life sorted, reading millions of self help books, exploring new diets and ways of “being” and all the while the little voice inside kept saying “why do you keep on drinking?” The little voice was loudest in the wee small hours of the night when I woke restlessly and would disappear the next day with the rising of the sun. The voice would shout loud after I had “accidentally” got drunk and made a complete embarrassing idiot of myself, but these times though frequent were not always the case. Sometimes I would be a “normal” drinker. Whatever that really is? How on earth would I survive not drinking? For some of my early career I worked on vineyards, in hospitality, in wine sales, how on earth could I live in these worlds and not drink? I was having the conversation in my head even way back then. I imagined being the first Master of Wine who didn’t ever drink and just identified the wine by taste and smell. Actually I still think about that now, I love getting a good nose of wine and guessing the grape variety and have absolutely no desire to drink it. What freedom is this!!
Like smoking it was all just another really bad habit!