101 Cheesy Clichés

It is done! I’ve chucked a bunch of necklaces up on Etsy – obviously after being really hard on myself and then promptly doubting if they’re good enough, before realising I was being a dick and instead gave myself a pat on the back knowing I’ve put heaps of TLC into each and every piece. I’d post the link here because I kind of want to hear what people think but for some reason seems wrong to use a blog I’m writing about being a drunk to promote things I’m hoping will make me money as well as happy. Nothing like hammering metal, melting metal, forming metal, EVERYTHING metal. Anyway.

At one point I created a little theme where I’d make a silver ring or pendant and incorporate a tiny piece of gold. It sprung from a ring I completely messed up. No amount of soldering would get the goddamn tube setting for the stone to sit straight so I removed it after umpteen attempts with the blowtorch and what I was left with was an open gap right where I’d cut it to make room for the stone and its tube. Instead I placed a tiny gold wire across the gap and after a bit of filing and sanding it actually looked quite cool. I liked how a mess could become beautiful with an entirely different solution to what you started out with. It kind of held a lot of meaning for me and made me think of my sobriety. A little stitch holding everything together. I called those pieces ‘stitches’ and to me it meant how something small and precious can hold everything together and despite looking delicate it’s strong. So my thinking was to create a name for stuff I make around perhaps those stitch pieces or a theme around my sobriety. Well. I thought and thought and thought but could only come up with cheesy clichés (turns out anything including the words ‘sobriety’ or ‘serenity’ becomes cringe worthy and/or pretentious) before I came back to my senses and found the best solution which was indeed the simplest one: 23january – just a little nod to a date when I made a Very Good Decision.

Just checked my app and I bloody missed an anniversary again. I ALMOST missed the three month-mark and yesterday I failed to remember (mostly because I didn’t check the app!) that it was 100 days of sobriety. That does feel good. A nice, solid, three-digit number right there. Don’t get me wrong, 10 days felt equally good and I suppose there’s no huge difference as I’m never any further than one drink away from Armageddon. Still, 100 days! Yay, will you look at that! Who would have thought? Who would have fucking thought? I don’t at all mean to sound cocky and full of myself – I am genuinely just so ecstatic and grateful to be able to say it because at one point it seemed so unlikely. At one point I would have told you NO CHANCE would that happen and all because I didn’t want to quit drinking. Well. I knew there was a problem and that I needed to stop but it took me a while to WANT TO STOP, I took a while to really see what booze is for me. How weird. I’m obviously ME so I do remember what went on in my head and I 100% associated drinking with sprinkling glitter over life. Obviously, this is what I imagine it is actually like for non-alcoholics and it amazes me that I partook in that madness for 12 long years. I did the same thing over and over, always with the same result (hello darkness my old friend, n’all that jazz) yet I had it in my head that oh no, it’s an ENHANCER. If it weren’t so sad I’d have to laugh. Although, perhaps I shouldn’t be so hard on myself – booze is everywhere and to the majority of people it IS glitter on top. Maybe I wanted to believe it could be true for me too.

The first two or three weeks (or was it more than that? Can’t remember) of sobriety I was feeling so sleepy, but I assumed it was down to how I cut approximately 14,000 – yes: FOURTEEN THOUSAND – calories out per week that I’d normally get via all the Sauvignon Blanc I consumed. No wonder my body had to readjust to the lack of calories. You’d have thought I’d lose a few kilos but oh no – I managed to put weight ON, something I consider really unfair. Fuckinell! Anyway. When the tired phase was over there was no limit to the energy I had and for the past couple of months I have almost everyday been for walks totalling 10 kilometres, briskly walking around the park in an hour and a half. But now something’s up again and not only do I feel tired, I feel constantly weak and queasy too. I’ve had anemia before and it feels suspiciously like that. Who knows. Annoying though but we’ll see what those bloods show and hopefully it’s just a case of munching iron for a while. I suppose even three months down the line it wouldn’t be strange if my body is still healing and trying to adjust and balance itself.

So anyway, here we are and it’s been 101 days! The only thing missing in my life is a ring sizer so I can accurately add all information for a bunch of rings that are ready to go up on Etsy too. Apart from that, I don’t think there is anything I could possibly ask for. Hubby returned from a trip to Dubai this morning and I stepped out of the shower and straight into his arms and got him all wet in the process. Gorgeous kiwi. How he manages to look ridiculously sexy after a long night flight following a stressful week of travel and work I do not know. Wonderful, sweet, loveable, glorious hubby – my bestie. Bambino continues to be a teenager who considers me the epitome of shame (his worst nightmare is to be seen with me, apparently I am THAT embarrassing), but that’s fine and there are normally glimpses of my charming boy here and there, i.e. the one who does love me deep down. He does still hug me before bed and in the morning, I wonder if that eventually stops? Apparently you get your kids back when they get to the 20-mark and begin to like you again after rejecting you during the teenage years. There’s hope I suppose.

It’s a long weekend here with Bank Holiday Monday and the weather app (what would I do without all these apps? Weather, sobriety, period, banking, even SLEEPING…. I have apps for everything!) tells me it’s going to be warm and sunny. It’s PRECISELY the kind of beautiful afternoon that once upon a time would have had me dreaming of white wine spritzers by the river with hubby. You know, that very image is absolutely there of me and him sitting on the wall in the evening sun and I am looking forward to it, it’s just that there’s only soda in my glass along with a couple of lime wedges and that’s all I want.

Today I am not going to drink. Have a wonderful weekend everyone!

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