Yep, I’m soaking in the bath. This is a rare occurrance; if I try this after the kids bedtime I’d wake them up just running the bath. (Our house is weird – big downstairs and tiny upstairs). If I try it during the day at the weekend, I inevitably end up with a small “bathbuddy” or two. And their associated toys, cars, squirters. Or a procession of small people requiring the toilet, or just asking questions of a philosophical nature such as “So where IS Grandpa, Mummy?? Is it Mexico??” (My dear Dad would have found this amusing I’m sure) . Not terribly relaxing, anyway. ‘Specially with a metal Hot Wheels car stuck to your bum.

I digress – I’m writing this because I still feel like crap physically today, but mentally I’m feeling better. Stepping off the merry-go-round will often have this effect; I spiral down and down into stress, introspection and “poor me, I can’t cope with this, it’s all someone else’s fault!!!”, and then something cracks and I break through and start climbing again. I found this cycle got less severe last time I stopped drinking for a period longer than 3 days. It didn’t completely disappear, but then I discovered afterwards that I was low on iron, which will have been contributing to me not feeling tip-top despite being sober. I’m going to try it again (with improved iron reserves!).

Last night I busted the myth that you can’t have fun sober, by watching three episodes of Stuart Lee’s Comedy Vehicle. And absolutely crying with laughter. Why do I always envisage a sober life as something grey and dull with no highs?

I’m marinating in the tub now, listening to The Lord of The Rings soundtrack. An odd choice, but this was my favourite bath music when I was pregnant with my first boy, and I remember loving the combination. I was obviously AF, so I thought I’d try it today. It’s great, but I need to put down the phone now and start actually relaxing. Properly.

Later, lovely people.

Red xx

Ps – moving onto the We Bought A Zoo soundtrack now (Jonsi). Uplifting. And am putting down the phone!!



Sick day

Actually, when you add it up, it’s a sick 4.5 hours, when you factor in three kids under 5 who have no concept of an ill parent, and the school run. But anyway, I’m in bed with tea, which is unprecedented at this time of day.

I have a new set of antibiotics, am planning to allow myself to rest tomorrow too, and the upside of this illness is I have absolutely no desire to drink! But I feel like shit. Bugger it.

On reading blogs and lovely comments from my sober buddies, it is striking me that having a supportive partner when you’re trying to stop must be amazingly helpful.

I think if Mr Red felt I drank too much, and thought I should stop, I’d find this a hell of a lot easier. As it is, he’s actually a barrier to me conquering this; I know he thinks I’m being extreme, can’t understand how I can contemplate a life without alcohol, and is certain we’ll stop ‘having fun’ if I stop drinking.

I can sense the barely-contained glee in him when I’ve given in after a period of sobriety before. When I don’t drink, he loses his guilt-free ability to drink, along with his time with fun, relaxed Red. I think it’s about 50/50 between those things.

I fear it will drive a wedge between us – my sobriety. I’m scared of losing him; he fell in love with the me that is/was “The Fun-Loving Party Girl” who adores drinking craft beef in pubs and talking on random afternoons, and drinking wine and listening to music under the stars in the garden on summer evenings. I’m scared that my much younger, extremely good-looking husband will drift away and find someone younger who will do all those things with him. (There seems to be a raft of younger mums in my new school-mum crowd, some of whom have actually told me he’s gorgeous. Flattering, and ultimately very unsettling).

We’re already not in a great place right now anyway – he told me last week he was feeling distant from me. I explained that I’m feeling overwhelmed with all my responsibilities and the lack of input from him into anything apart from his business. A night of drinking and chatting seemed to help, but things are no better this week and we’ve had a blazing text-row this morning as I feel he’s not helped much (at all) while I’ve been ill. He’s still asking me “what’s for tea” when the kids have gone to bed FFS. I just want to go to bed myself!

Anyway – I’m sure I’m probably putting up barriers to dealing with my addiction by trying to side-shift the blame onto him here. I need to take responsibility for myself, and perhaps just crack on with it and prove to him that there will be benefits for him too when I stop: (list here as an aide-memoir)

  • Last time I stopped, I dropped my excess weight and looked better than I have in ages. This can only be good.
  • I actually found I started laughing at things more, belly-laughing. I was more fun, on reflection. Well, after about 3 weeks of being a miserable bitch.
  • I felt a lot more like “sexy time” when I was sober. Not difficult, anything more than zero is good right? And I was better and more confident at “it” sober, and had outstandingly better orgasms. Again, better than zero, methinks. In fact I think I actually use drinking as a way of avoiding the issue of sex. I’m at the point most days where I can’t bear anyone else needing anything physical from me after the kids are in bed, there’s just nothing left in the bank.
  • I’m more in control of general home-life, less stressed, and need less from him in terms of input in minor domestic things. I’m sure he’d consider this a benefit, as less is actually required of him.

I remember last time occasionally thinking “this would be easier if I was on my own”. I’m sure people might disagree, but hey, each situation has its own set of challenges. I don’t want it to come to that though, I love him and he’s my best mate. Most of the time.

Sorry for the needy ramble – perhaps I have a temperature from the “ick”. Ha!

Day 4, and heading for the weekend..








Ahoy there, shipmates!

Hello there!! *raises head gingerly above parapet*. Well I’m still here, whether anyone is still reading may be more in doubt however.

Since my last post, much has happened. Many bottles of wine have been consumed, a few stinking hangovers have been weathered. I’ve been reading blogs still, and thinking about my drinking, and watching some newbies heading into their AF world, as usual feeling a lot of affinity with my blogging friends, and rooting for you all.

I’ve been mostly keeping a lid on my drinking. In Red-World, this means not drinking at all on the three nights a week where I have work the next day. And then on the other 4 nights, consuming at least a bottle of wine per night. Oh – and then there have been the weekends where I’ve been at parties (the one where we had 2 craft beer hand-pulls set up in our mates kitchen was memorable. Or was it? Damn you, alcohol-induced memory loss). Or the weekend we had friends to stay, and started drinking at 5pm, and stopped drinking the following 3am. And the particularly spectacular hangover I experienced after a Friday night at home with Mr Red, where I proceeded to attempt to numb the stress of the previous week with ALL of the wine. I must blog this next bit as it’s possibly my lowest hangover moment EVER. Ahem. Here goes.

I woke late, after my kind husband had risen with the children and allowed me to lie in. I had the kind of headache/sick/roiling stomach where only water therapy will work, so I got myself into the shower, drank a soluble vitamin drink and took some painkillers. Big mistake – when will I learn that paracetamol is a bad idea on an already overloaded liver & stomach? I stood in the shower as long as I could, but I was freezing so I ran the bath and sat in it, with the shower still going on my head. I soon started to feel really quite sick as the painkillers did their worst. I was about to get out of the bath and head for the loo, at which point, my youngest son (3) burst into the bathroom, announcing his urgent need for a poo. He then clambered up onto the loo, hidden from sight by a small wall, but chatting happily away to me. I, on the other hand, proceeded to very quietly, but quite violently, throw up into my own bathwater. The young man went about his business, blissfully unaware, and returned downstairs, while I then attempted to shall we say “wash away the shame”.

I am aware just how revoltingly, awfully bad this is. And on re-reading the above, its perfectly obvious I am in no way “keeping a lid” on anything. This was a couple of weeks ago, and things have calmed down a bit now. But I’m coming again to the conclusion that drinking is impacting on my life, the children’s life, and that all the stress I’m trying to blot out is only being exacerbated by the drinking habit. The stress is fucking ENORMOUS at the moment by the way; my job, looking after the house and 3 children, and Mr Red’s business are all taking their toll on me. But I know, in my hind-brain, that this would all improve if I could just let go of my alcohol-crutch, and maybe try some exercise and self-care instead. But hey – that ain’t the easy option, now is it?

I’m managing to find time to write this, as I’ve been battling a chest infection for over two weeks now, and today finally I admitted I need a sick day off. Trying not to impact on work, I’ve picked today (a non-working day) and the only way to do this was to get my eldest to school, then drive the twins to their Gran’s for the day. I finally got back home to bed at 11am, and I’ve been resting in bed, and watching John Hughes movies. Probably the first time I’ve had a proper sick day in 5 years. Oh for the pre-kids days when you could pick up the phone and call in sick still in your dressing gown.. Still, got to get up in an hour and do the school run. Go Mummy-Power!!! (Cough/sneeze/splutter).

Anyway, here I am. No drinking last night, and there’ll be none tonight. We’ll just see how the weekend goes. But I’m feeling more determined than I have in ages. Wish me luck, friends.