Sunday, 27 December 2015

Last Christmas I gave you my arse...

First sober Christmas done and dusted! 

I had two minor slip ups; neither of which involved me getting drunk, both of which left me feeling horrendously ill the next day (my body obviously has learnt to reject the poison!). They were very important and valuable lessons in what my alcohol trigger points are an how to avoid them. 

The first slip occurred the night before Christmas Eve. I had been invited to a "Staff Meeting" of my local Costcutter and they always tend to be boozy affairs. Obviously, I don't work at Costcutter, I just know the staff really well through going in there daily to buy wine so I always get invited to their nights in the pub.

It was a weird night and fate works in mysterious ways. I'd promised myself that after 34 days of sobriety I would allow myself a "treat". However, I think that I was just worried that as my relationship with this group of friends is based upon booze, I would have nothing to talk to them about if I wasn't drinking. Anyway, I needn't have worried. As I embarked upon my third drink of the evening, I received a phone call to go home immediately, H had fallen ill and the kids we running amok! 

My second slip was last night - I had been feeling tired all day and couldn't go anywhere because of the flooding. Being very bored and fed up, I jumped at the chance to have a glass of wine. It tasted horrible, I didn't enjoy it and it left me wondering yet again.... what am I looking for when I drink?

Anyway, I've now learnt to avoid excessive rest, boredom and the company of people with which I have mainly drinking in common! 

I have to go and tend to Grandma now. She's currently performing a striptease in my lounge and the curtains are open so I'd best hurry before she scares the shit out of the neighbours! 

Part 2 of this post to follow shortly!


Monday, 21 December 2015

Holidays!

Wow, what a week! 

I was off school with the two youngest children last week. Just Monday afternoon and Tuesday, but it's enough to set you back at work! On Wednesday, H had the day off to "work from home" so I could go to work. Annoyingly, the younger two had both been sick, so although they were ready and keen to be back at school on Wednesday, we had to keep them off due to school policy. So, H missed out on all the shite and vomit, but did experience the final, irritable, hot day of illness which made me feel slightly better as I jauntily set off for work that morning.

When I arrived home, H said that quote of the day from youngest to middle child was, "I'm going to try really hard not to hit you today!"

I'm still sober! Despite many dreams where I've gone out and got bladdered, I have still not touched a drop. It's been over a month now but I don't want to be a bore who counts the days. Surely after a certain amount of time, living without alcohol becomes the norm and we simply don't think about it any more?

 I've also done the majority of the work that I need to do for school this holiday, which in unheard of in this house. I was hoping to take all the school books back to school because I really don't have room for them in our caravan of a house, but we are waiting in for the district nurse. We've called them four times to arrange to get a continence assessment done on Grandma - she's never been too fond of water sports but she's swimming out of bed like a fucker every morning! My house is starting to look and smell like a nursing home so that is one of my missions for this Christmas - de-institutionalize my home. It sounds depressing but it's really not, she deserves to be with those who love her and she does provide a certain amount of comedy value to our lives. More about that in a later post.

So, books marked, test papers marked, pupil progress files set up, and new Spanish course well started. This sober life is really quite productive! I just wish I had time for a little nap before the noisy bastard carers come in to make Grandma her lunch..... oh well, there's always this afternoon and if I'm lucky, an episode of Murder, She Wrote or Columbo on the TV!

Love
Zx

Monday, 14 December 2015

So, what's missing?

I've been up all night with vomiting children and so, another day off work for me. This is quite scary because in the past, being off for the day has been an excuse to go the shop, buy alcohol and then sit and drink it alone in front of the television.

Of course, 26 days in, I'm not going to do that although, I did have a dream last night that that is exactly what I did and I woke up feeling like I was still a drinker.

What intrigues me is the science of addiction. I know a girl who has been in hospital for over a year with anorexia. It's all she wants to talk about when we go and visit her, she really is in love with the disease. She says that she hates it, but she says that even though she doesn't understand it, she's not ready to let it go just yet. But it is killing her!

My drinking was the same for me. Every day I'd say that I would stop, yet by the evening I'd feel that I would "treat" myself one more time. It really was sickening. There would be days when I would drink so much that I physically couldn't drink any more. I'd sit there thinking, "I can't drink any more, I'm wasted - so where do I go from here? What did I do this for? I feel like shit..." and so on. So what was I looking for? What are all drinkers looking for in the bottom of a bottle? What's missing?

I've just read the Head and Heart post from Wine Bitch and I think she's talking a lot of sense. Perhaps when head and heart are in sync, the need for our addiction lessens. Sobering stuff. I think part of my problem is that I'm beyond knowing what my head and my heart feel or want. Perhaps I could spend today meditating on that...

Oh, and of course wiping sweaty brows and clearing up sick!

Have a fantastic sober day everyone! Spare a thought for me, I have Amazon Prime and Now TV so any box set marathon recommendations greatly appreciated!

Zx

Day 25 - Smugly Social

So, all last week I agonised about my first sober function....

It was fabulous! I went for a curry with my colleagues, I was Des - designated driver- and I had a lovely sober time. Following the advice of Wine Bitch (thanks for that, by the way) I got chatting to some lovely people I don't know well and found out loads about them. One young man in particular revealed to me that he still daren't come into the staffroom after having worked at school for three months! I really started to think about other people's perspectives and how sometimes, our heads can be so far up our own arses, we don't think about helping others as much as we should. Especially when we are drinking!

The journey there was white knuckle all the way. I was driving two people from my team to the restaurant and they both live in quite rural areas. The restaurant itself is also quite remote and while I had never been there before, the other two had. There was a freezing fog rolling off the hills, lots of flood water and it was pitch black! I was nervous I'd miss my turning.

I said, "When I was told that we were eating at Raj's Spice, I kept looking out for it whenever I drove down the main road, but it seemed really well hidden. I finally managed to spot it yesterday!"

"Nonsense!" My friends heckled me. "It's really obvious from the main road, there's a great big sign and you can't miss it!"

I would have begged to differ as it took me three attempts of driving down the road to discover where it was; masked by trees and a lake. Being the out of towner, I simply sighed and deferred to their superior local knowledge.

"Ha!" The older of my two colleagues laughed, "The last time I came about ten years ago with some friends, we saw the sign, turned in and then realised we were on somebody's drive! It was pitch black and there were great big ditches either side of the driveway so it was impossible to turn round. Fuck! That was awkward!"

The younger lady piped up, "Do you know what? Exactly the same thing happened to me and some of my mates. This really arsey woman came out and started shouting at us to move off the f..."

"Turn right! We're here!" Shouted the first colleague. And sure enough, the florescent Raj's Spice sign flickered before us, so I took a harsh right into the gateway.... straight onto a very long, narrow driveway leading up to a farmhouse. There were deep ditches either side, there was no room to turn around and the curtains in the living room window of the farmhouse started twitching violently!

Twenty minutes and a fifteen point turn later, we arrived to join the rest of our staff for popadoms and pickles. A shaky start to what was otherwise a very enjoyable evening.

I enjoyed my sober evening so much that I had a sober dinner in town with H on the Friday, and on Saturday, I drank lime and soda all night in the local pub while my dad downed four pints! Until the last few weeks, I would have matched him pint for pint and then opened a bottle of wine when I got in! 

The night with my Dad was a real turning point. I think that it is from him I inherit my love of alcohol. He has no stop button either. The realisation that I could sit and have one of the best nights in the pub I've ever had with my Dad, while sober, has been one hell of an eye opener! Long may it continue. I'm a little embarrassed to say it but, I actually felt dead proud driving him home! 

I had a call from the childrens' school today to say that middle child was poorly, so I've had the afternoon off. I feel like I'm more or less up to date with things so I'm now snuggled in bed with child number 3 (daughter, 4 years old) who is exhibiting similar symptoms, so I think a cuppa and a chapter of my book before bed is in order.

Happy sober evening!!
Zx

P.S. I've just eaten a very disappointing fig roll. I love fig rolls! I hate it when that happens! Best stick to the custard creams.

PPS. My spotty chin is now back to former glory. I no longer look like the youth from The Simpsons!

Tuesday, 8 December 2015

First Sober Function

Later this week is my first sober function, dinner at a restaurant near work. I've set myself up to succeed by offering to be Des for several colleagues and I am looking forward to going to a works do, safe in the knowledge that I will not leave having made a massive fool of myself!

To be honest, I don't think I've ever made a true dick of myself at a work function. The last big one that I went to a few years ago, the rest of the staff did a job far better than I did in creating a night to remember. I worked at a different school in those days and certain staff members were a bit wild, including the Deputy Head. 

It was a retirement party and so we went to a sedate bar (a foody pub, really) in town and had a bite to eat. Then we took over the back room; as the retired folks left and the drinks flowed, a very lively Deputy (we'll call her Mrs B) started encouraging a very young NQT that it would be a good idea to take her clothes off in order that she could be photographed being whipped by other members of the staff. I was appalled as the poor NQT was obviously confused and so drunk she didn't even realise what she was doing. I called her a cab.

Having been persuaded to leave the NQT alone (the NQT was reluctantly poured into a taxi home), Mrs B (a stunning looking lady in her early forties) started pretending to drop things so she could bend over and pick them up. At first I couldn't understand why she was doing this, but I eventually realised that a group of young men had entered the room and were paying a bit more attention to another female member of staff than they were to her. I also realised very quickly the absence of Mrs B's knickers and the show she was giving to these guys every time she bent down! Believe it or not, there were actually parents of children that attended the school on this night out and governors witnessing all this! You'll be pleased to know that Mrs B had waxed for the occasion. I didn't look closely myself but I have it on good authority that she was freshly Brazillianed!

Just when I didn't think things could get much worse (remember, I'd had a skinfull too but I was still pretty horrified) we left the bar to find a taxi and she decided she needed the loo. She simply lifted up her dress and pissed all over the the Shambles as she walked along!

Anyway, I can't see this week's night out being like that. And if it is, I'm driving so it'll not be me urinating in the street. I'm sure I could write an Alan Bennett style monologue based on that night out:

 A Piss on the Cobbles
Zara: "Fancy that!" said Mother. "Who'd have thought it? A piss on the Cobbles! In the Shambles. Now, down Stonebow it's only to be expected!"

I find it so funny. I've spent all these days working on looking after myself, being sober, exercising and eating right yet there are two things pressing on my mind: 

1. My chin is still Whitehead City - my normally clear skin painfully breaking out - possibly searching for alcohol and cigarettes... or crack cocaine... (I'm joking!!) 

2. Despite all this hard work and self care, I just can't wait until I can have an alcoholic drink!

It's ludicrous! I feel so much better, I'm sleeping well, I'm not anxious any more, I'm actually enjoying working - I'm not just fighting through hung over and desperately trying to get to the end of the day any more. I like being there.

I just want to feel fun and like me. To tell you the truth I know that alcohol is a liar because I never felt fun or like me when I was drinking either, but on some level I thought I did!

Any advice appreciated

Zx

Sunday, 6 December 2015

Lonely

I didn't expect to be posting again so soon, but sometimes things happen that really make you see things in a new light!
Last night after a row with H, I was convinced that I sometimes get lonely and that is why I drink. Then this morning, I encountered Mad Matt - a dementing neighbour of my parents- and I realised that I am a selfish piece of shit and I don't kn0w the meaning of loneliness.
I've known Matt from being a small child. He and his wife lived for years in a quaint bungalow at the end of our road (well, the road of my childhood home and still that of my parents), overlooking an alleyway. My Dad has always referred to him as Mad Matt, not because he's had mental health problems but because he's always been slightly eccentric. Sadly, he now has chronic dementia and his wife is in care. 
One of the first Mad Matt stories originates in the late 1990s as my Dad, on his way back from his morning constitutional, found him in the alleyway hunting for his cat. A keen ex army gentleman from the North East he always speaks with a gruff, deep Geordie accent. "Morning, Matt!" said my dad, in a tone that he reserves for Matt. It's reminiscent of Mr Swainey's, "Good morning, Mr Meldrew!"
"Aye, morning! You alright? " Matt growled in his ultra masculine voice. My dad didn't stop to talk, Matt was obviously distracted, looking for his cat. A few steps further and a plaintive, elongated, high pitched, almost singsong cry  of "Tiggy!!" from Matt resounded along the street, the echo ricocheting off the walls of he houses. My dad didn't know where to look!
A few years later, Matt was enraged when a bungalow on the opposite side of the alleyway, facing his house was turned into sheltered housing for the elderly and infirm. One day, I noticed that the wall next to his gate had been knocked down. It was bin day and I assumed that the bin lorry had hit it as it is a very narrow lane. 
"Have you seen the state of that?! He raged, pointing at the semi standing brickwork. It was bound to happen, though, wasn't it? There's bin collections twice a week, them bastards over there with their bloody ambulance four times a day..."
I hastily cut in as I saw one of "Them Bastards" getting into an ambulance supported by a care worker. She was ancient; sweet and prim looking. In my best drama teacher stage voice to cover up his booming blusters I blamed the bin men, "It's not their fault really, they have such a tight turnaround and they're always in such a rush..."
"Don't be daft, man. That wasn't the bin men! That was me! I got so bloody distracted with everything going on, I went straight into it! Look at the back of my car! Twenty five years I've been reversing into my drive with not so much as a scratch! Bastards!"
Anyhow, I digress. Poor Matt is now highly confused and I heard him shouting for help as I passed his house this morning. I panicked and started banging on his window imagining that he must have had a terrible fall but I soon realised that he was shouting "Hello!" into his phone. He came out to see me and agitatedly gave me chapter and verse about how "some bastard" had stolen his lawn mower while he was in the house. The garage door was locked and the grass was sky high but he was convinced and there seemed little point in trying to dissuade him from calling the police. Perhaps the police will pester social services. His neighbour calls social services on a daily basis; he's  not safe to be left by himself and his adult children refuse to claim responsibility for him. Poor guy. 
I've just heard from his next door neighbour that he was sectioned an hour ago. The police had to be called as he was in the shop trying to pay for bread with a shilling and he got aggressive when they wouldn't accept it. 
I've never really known loneliness. A great reason not to drink today, to love my husband and children and to just be happy. Old age comes to us all, so in the words of the old song,
 "Enjoy yourself, it's later than you think!"
Zx

Good Morning Campers!

I somehow managed not to get shit-faced last night. I'm feeling quite smug this morning as it is very unlike me to be able to resist such strong cravings; as many people before me have said though, you never wake up and curse yourself for resisting the evil booze the night before!

Unsettled atmosphere with H continued until late last night, but I had the most wonderful trip out with my three little ones (8- girl, 6-boy and 4-girl) to a local shopping centre. It got to about 5.45pm and I was feeling down and H was asleep. 

We had coffee and cake in Costa (yes, I did have to take out a second mortgage) and then we ran around the shops - literally in their case- absolutely killing themselves laughing! I have to be a bit careful in WHSmith as they get really silly in there! They don't try and pick things up, they just really seem to love the layout for playing hide and seek. 

I got home and decided to continue the silly theme by putting on a mask of a sheep's head that we got from a local farm, and scaring my eldest! I donned the offending article and crept stealthily down the hall like a pantomime villain. Reaching my eldest's bedroom, I leapt into the doorway with an enthusiastically scary sheep-like sound.

She didn't even flinch, "Mummy, you shouldn't do that!"

"I know, but it's such fun trying to make you jump!" I replied.

"No, I mean you shouldn't have done it. He..." (she points her thumb at her 6 year old brother) "... took a waz in that last week and we haven't washed it out yet!"

Eldest daughter: 1
Mummy: 0

Later, I'm going to see if I can copy a post I wrote on another blogging site about a year ago. At this point I was still drinking, but I remember that we were going through a bit of a crazy time so it might be nice to reminisce!

Have a fantastic day, don't eat the yellow snow - or don the golden mask!

Zx