Ah, the rat bag – after a lovely, long drive through a sunny west London listening to the latest audiobook, I got to work a bit early and although I can’t say I’m bursting with motivation (that’ll never happen – not here, not now, this will never be enough to make me go YEEEEEEAH) I was in a brilliant mood. Then bing my phone goes and it’s a text from bambino’s school saying he missed a detention last week so now he’s getting an internal exclusion, which I think means he’s in isolation a whole day. The little shit! OK, so my child will never be the little angelic model student and I do freaking adore his exuberant nature, it’s the most beautiful thing, but WTF does he always have to be the class clown?! Apparently so, if this last string of detentions is anything to go by – always the same crimes: chatting, playing pranks or generally being a distraction. Oh well. He’s 13 and he’s a boy. Just on the lively side I suppose but this can’t continue so I’m going to now remove the Xbox until he sorts this out. I’m going to pick him up a bunch of language books, see if his behavior might improve if he gets to spend some time conjugating German verbs. *evil grin*
We’re now on summer time and I’m so excited! Perhaps it’s the Viking in me who’s rejoicing at the light having finally returned and I’m getting ready to make sacrifices to the gods and dance around a huge phallus symbol? Nah, not quite Midsummer yet, but the light is SO welcome! It was still light when I rolled out of bed and now it’ll stay light well into the evening too, hurrah!
Oh yes, that’s right, this was meant to be a blog about drinking, or NOT drinking rather – I keep forgetting and end up writing random nonsense. So. Still not drinking and hope it’ll stay that way. Right now I see no reason why I’d suddenly pick up a drink again but who knows. Mightier women have fallen on their sword. I don’t intend to though. Well… …having said that, intentions count for shit when you’re an alkie, they really don’t mean anything whatsoever and you could just look at my track record or that of any other alcoholic if you need any evidence of the bullshitness of our intentions. What I should say is that I don’t want to drink. I took hubby out for a drink Friday afternoon and contrary to what I expected when I first quit drinking I didn’t sit there wishing I had a glass of wine in front of me. I was quite happy with my pint of soda water and lime and it quenched my thirst too. This freedom is exhilarating, I can’t begin to explain how wonderful it is not to have that wild obsession take hold over me.
I may have initially exaggerated when I likened a glass of wine to a pile of dog shit but the more I think about it, the more accurate it is and actually not an exaggeration at all: sure, eating dog shit would probably make me retch and puke and all of that – I don’t think it’d be possible to actually eat it. But let’s say it was and I managed to get it down me. Let’s say I had the choice of a mouthful of dog shit or a glass of wine. I’d go with dog shit every time!
Whaaaaat? OK, Sophie, we get it! You love sobriety and you’re not finding it difficult. We’ve heard you go on and on and ooooooooon about how free you are and how you no longer see any reason to drink at all. But to say you’d rather eat dog shit than have a glass of wine? Cut the crap, lady!
Nope, I’m serious. I would 100% prefer the dog shit. Allow me to explain.
Let’s start with the shit, shall we? Now, I don’t think it’d be humanly possible to first get it into my mouth and then swallow it, because let’s face it – it’s shit. But let’s say I did manage exactly that. At best it would be the most disgusting thing I’d ever done and I’d probably throw up a LOT and lose my appetite for a while. This might make me lose a bit of weight – see, a benefit straight away! At worst, given that it’s shit it’d be full of nasty bacteria and I might be a bit ill for a day or two. Still better than “eat shit and die”, no? Who came up with that, by the way? It’s such a satisfying insult! However, shit wouldn’t kill me, right?
And so the wine. I probably wouldn’t retch and it wouldn’t be totally disgusting because Sauvignon Blanc with soda isn’t revolting. It’s not as nice as water or fruit juice but it’s not so foul I’d gag at just the scent as I would with shit. But it’d awaken the beast, it’d remove me from the present moment and confine me to a terrifying darkness where my only company would be a raging desire and craving I cannot control, that would send me to blackout and take another piece of my heart away. I would then wake the next day and have those feelings alcohol ignites in me: anxiety, irritability, insecurity, doubts, paranoia, a short temper, worry, feeling lost and inexplicably low. Before I’d know it, it’d then creep back in little by little until the window between waking in the morning and pouring the first drink started to shrink. That’s terrifying stuff, if you ask me. That’s where it was once taking me, to that point when I started to wonder how far off I was from beginning to drink earlier in the day or even in the morning. The leap becomes shorter and shorter and I knew that the semblance of a life I seemed to still hold together would soon be ripped away.
So hell yes, I’d take the shit any day of the week and a second helping too for good measure.
I feel that’s a good way to go into this third month of sobriety – to know in my heart that eating shit would be better than drinking. I feel the odds are in my favour just about now. Don’t care much about tomorrow because for all I know the world could end before then, so I’m just going to live for today – and most of all LIVE before I die – and continue to be happy that I had a choice and made the one that is right for me. Sauv has no place in my life anymore. So long, sucker!
So where does this leave AA, this support network for those of us who are alcoholics and struggle with sobriety? What happens when you don’t struggle? When you don’t feel deprived but lucky? When you don’t yearn for a drink but feel immensely grateful you no longer want one? Well, I absolutely see a need for AA in my life, at least I think I do. And I’d quite like to go tomorrow and collect that two-month chip. It’s just I won’t collect it feeling like I completed a challenge or fought to get there – I’ll collect it feeling it’s a celebration of a happy event and how another month of well being and joy just went by. Just like I won’t get to 3rd June thinking ‘I made it!‘ but instead jump up and down and exclaim ‘wow, one year married to the most amazing man in the world!‘. Anything else just doesn’t make sense.
Today I’m not going to drink – why ruin a perfectly great Monday?