Home again

I met an old lover at Christmas. I knew he would be there, waiting for me, and I knew I would run to his arms. I thought that he would embrace me the moment I arrived at my holiday destination and never let me go. He opened his arms to me, but I said no that first night. I had factored in the number of days I could love him, and still reach my 100 alcohol-free days before the end of the year, so I resisted. He didn't push me. We shared a kiss and a cuddle over the next few days, and I realised that, although I enjoyed his touch, I didn't crave it as I once did. I drank in his love, his warmth, the familiarity of his embrace, but I didn't let him overpower me and now, now that I am back in my own home, I am raising a final glass to him.

I love drink. I love drinking. I love the taste and the freedom.

I hate drink. I hate drinking. I hate the compulsion and the tyranny.

It was great to meet my old lover again and spend time with him, because I know now that he is no good for me. I can't live with him, and I can't live without him.

I know now that I want to live without him. He and I may have a one night stand from time to time, but I will never allow him to dominate me again.

I am grateful for having had this opportunity to sort out my feelings towards my lover, my drink, my bottle. I am grateful for the discovery that, although I love him, I love myself more, I love the person I can be without him, without my drink, without my bottle.

Step 1. I admit that I am powerless over alcohol.

Freezing fog ...

... has brought the country's airports to a standstill. I'm hoping that it will clear by tomorrow as I'm (supposed to be) flying up to Manchester to spend Christmas with friends. All flights from my local airport going north were cancelled today.

This may be my last post until I get back next week, depending on the flight situation! So, in case I am not able to log on while I'm away, I wish all my friends in blogland a very happy and peaceful Christmas.

Have fun, everyone, and thanks for all your support and kind comments over the past 3 months. I'm looking forward to continuing my journey with you all in the new year.

xxx

Sober leaving party

Well, I did it! Today was my last day at work, the office Christmas lunch for 65 people (organized by me) and an after-lunch pub session followed by a meal out. Three different places that sell alcohol and loads of people wanting to buy me a farewell drink. Yesterday I was really stressing about it - so much to do, hardly any time to do it in, potential for tears as I said goodbye to some of the friends I've made, potential for squirming embarrassment if the Managing Director did the decent/normal/human thing of thanking me and giving me a leaving card - and I was muttering to myself all last evening, 'I'll want a drink, I know I'll want a bloody drink.'

But I didn't want a drink after all, when the time came. The Managing Director stood up to make a speech before our lunch arrived and said, 'Christmas again ... blah blah ... this time last year ... blah blah ... aren't we great, haven't we done well ... blah blah ... Linda's leaving ... blah blah ... this time next year ... new contract ... blah blah...'

He sat down and started tucking in to his food and then said, 'Oh, I forgot,' and ambled over to me and handed me a gift bag without a single word, and then went back to his seat. I'm so glad I was sober, because I can remember clearly that that moment just summed up why I was leaving - the totally appalling way the staff are treated as second-class citizens - and reassured me that I have made the right decision to leave.

That aside, a really good time was had by all, and almost everyone came over at some point to wish me luck and thank me for all I'd done. I have a card with signatures and good wishes from everyone, and I have the most gorgeous necklace and bracelet I've ever seen. They're hand-made in silver with amethyst and blue lace agate and each piece by this designer is unique. They must have cost a fortune and I was really touched to realise how much people thought of me, even if the managing director didn't have the grace or the manners to say goodbye or do a proper presentation.

A whole bunch of us went to the pub and I stayed sober there, too. After a few hours we went into town to a new Greek restaurant and they all drank red wine, and I drank water. At 10 I left them in town - they were off to another bar but I was beginning to feel tired and it was time for me to come home.

I stayed sober at my own leaving do! My friends and colleagues won't remember me as someone who got drunk and bad-mouthed the company and the boss, and got too loud and fell over. They will remember me as I want to be remembered - funny, friendly, professional, and sober.

I don't talk about God much in this blog, but I am grateful to Him for giving me the strength to say no to all the offers of alcohol I've had today.

Another sober day to add to all the others on the chalkboard in my kitchen. Another night I shall go to bed and fall asleep because I'm tired, not pass out because I'm drunk. It feels good. It feels very good.

Last day at work

My last day at work isn't until Wednesday, so I haven't had to face the pressure of having a 'few' farewell drinks yet - I've just been trying to plan ahead (ie plan not to!) because until saying no becomes second nature, I find it easier to follow a course of action I've rehearsed.

I'm feeling quite strong at the moment (and I know pride comes before a fall, so I'm careful not to be proud of myself!) and I'm not sure why. It could be because now I know I'm leaving my awful job for a new one, I don't feel so miserable. It could be because I'm enjoying feeling mentally alert right to the end of the day. It could be because it's so nice not to wake up in a sweat in the night with a raging thirst and a horrible taste in my mouth. Whatever the reason, I'm very grateful.

Planning NOT to drink

My last day at work is looming over the horizon and it co-incides with our Christmas lunch - all paid for by the company, including drinks. Some of the friends I've made there have been planning to go into town after the lunch and so many of them have made alternative transport arrangements so that they can 'get wrecked', 'let their hair down' (which means get wrecked) or 'see you off in style' (which also means get wrecked).

I'd been thinking how much I'd like a drink at the Christmas lunch, how much I feel I've earned it after the awful, awful time I've had at that company, and I've been muttering defiantly, 'I'm going to have a drink, I deserve a drink, I never said I was giving up forever.'

But I've thought about it, and I can't be sure it would be just 'a' drink. Certainly heading into town afterwards to hit the bars almost guarantees that I'd come home singing off-key in a taxi or falling over in the street, so I've made up my mind.

Today I sent an email to the colleague who's co-ordinating the after-lunch trip into town to say, 'I'll join you, but I shan't be drinking. I need to keep a clear head, and I'll be driving, so I'll be on soft drinks only.' I'm beginning to find that it's easier just to say no than try and convince myself to stick to 'just the one'. If I was able to stick to 'just the one' I wouldn't be here in the first place!

I guess you'd call that progress?

Regular disappointment ...

I was going to delete this post because I did spend a pleasant couple of hours at my brother's house. He had cancelled his tennis match (he says) and the rest of the family was there after all - eventually. I decided to leave the post as it stands, to remind myself of how I can get so upset, and how it's always led to drinking. If I'd had a drink this afternoon after the 'phone call I'd have gone round in a bad mood. As it was, I'd accepted that this was all I was going to see of them over Christmas so I'd better make the most of it. I'm still disappointed though.

I don't know why I'm even surprised at my family - this happens almost every time I have any contact with them.

'My family' consists of my brother, his wife and their 2 children. They live about a mile away and I see them if I drop in on them - I'm never invited there for a meal or anything. My sister-in-law's mother is there every week from about 40 miles away to spend the day and have a meal with them.

Anyway, they are off to Thailand this Christmas - they leave on Thursday. I asked when I was going to see them so that I could give the girls their presents and my sister-in-law said Monday - today. Then I got an email to say that my brother and my eldest niece would be out so there would just be 2 of them. Not the whole family then. I've taken the day off today and called to say that I could come round earlier so that I could see all of them and it turns out that my younger niece is going out as well, and my sister-in-law is going into town! My elder niece is poorly so isn't going out after all, so, as my sister-in-law said, 'Come round anyway. Someone will be here to let you in.'

Well, merry Christmas, family. You go off to have a lovely time in Thailand. Don't even bother to set aside one evening for me. I've been good enough for years and years to babysit, I've been good enough to drop everything whenever my elder niece (now 16) has a boyfriend crisis, but I'm not good enough for you to spare one evening before Christmas. Thanks. Merry bloody Christmas to you.

If I'd had this kind of telephone conversation with my sister-in-law last Christmas I'd have hung up and promptly poured myself a rum and coke and made myself even more depressed, but I'm not going to do it today. All I'd be doing is adding a hangover to the disappointment.

It hurts me to say this, but I'll say it anyway. They are not worth it.

6 Weird Things About Me

This seems to be the blogging equivalent of those email snowballs you get at this time of year!

6 Weird Things About Me - tough choice, there are so many weird things about me!

1. I like rats, mice, bats and snakes.
2. When someone gives me directions to get somewhere, my brain shuts down and I still get lost.
3. I would rather spend Christmas alone than with friends or family, but have only once managed to co-ordinate my excuses to do that!
4. I don't like New Year celebrations - too much pressure to have fun.
5. I have already planned my 'exit' if I get too old, infirm or ga-ga to look after myself but I will be too old, infirm and ga-ga to carry it out!

I tag... Shannon, Shadow ... and everyone else on my list seems to have already been tagged! So I shall be spending my Sunday stalking bloggers who have remained tag-free! Keep looking over your shoulder, I'll be there somewhere, waiting to tag you!

The Rules - Each player of this game starts with the 6 Weird Things About You. People who get tagged need to write a blog entry of their own 6 Weird Things as well as state this rule clearly. In the end, you need to choose 6 people to be tagged and list their names. Don't forget to leave a comment that says you are tagged in their comments and tell them to read your blog!

Drinking nightmare come true!

When I was drinking I was always careful to stay under the drink-driving limit but there were times, I admit, when I wasn't careful enough, or when my calculations erred on the side of generous. Driving back from friends' houses in the car late at night, if I saw a police car in the rear-view mirror my heart would stop. I'd be terrified of being pulled over for any reason - like speeding, or having a faulty light - because I'd know that if they smelled any alcohol I'd be breathalised and, for all my careful calculations, I just know that sometimes I'd have been over the limit.

Tonight, on a long trip home from a concert at 2am, a police van pulled in behind me. It followed me into the road that peters out into a track going into woodland and I told myself that maybe someone had reported a disturbance in the woods. I turn left before the woods - so did the van. I turned left again - so did the van. I turned into my road, which is a cul-de-sac. The road goes nowhere. You get to the end and you have to turn around to get out again. I turned into my driveway, and the police van pulled up outside my house.

My heart didn't stop. It didn't pound. I was a bit concerned but I wasn't terrified. I got out and asked the officer if everything was OK and he said, 'Your brake light is out. We were called to a shout in your road and I said to my colleague, that poor woman must be really worried with us behind her!'

This poor woman smiled and apologised about the brake light, and the officer said with a smile, 'Oh, don't worry about it, just get it fixed asap - you don't want to get pulled over by the police, it's a £30 fine!'

He could have fined me, but he didn't. If this had happened 3 months ago he'd have smelled alcohol on me and he would have breathalised me and fined me for the brake light. I may or may not have been over the limit. I may or may not have lost my licence.

Thank God my nightmare about being pulled over by the police ended the way it did.

Thank God I've seen sense about my drinking and stopped.

Countdown

News that I've handed my notice in is beginning to filter through the company and there have been a few people who've waylayed me in the corridor to congratulate me on 'getting out' and wish me well for the future. The majority of those people have suggested that we go out for 'a few drinks' one lunchtime before I leave and although my resolve is strong at the moment, I'm feeling the teeniest bit resentful: I'm leaving this awful place! Over the past 20 months I've had the life and soul sucked out of me and I'm not the happy, relaxed, confident person I was when I joined. I've worked very hard to find a new job. Why shouldn't I celebrate with a few drinks?

If I could be sure that it would be just a few drinks I'd probably cave in but, to be honest, I can't say with my hand on my heart that I could stop again once I'd started. So, despite the golden opportunity to unleash the party me and accept all the free drinks I'm offered to celebrate my leaving, I'm going to stick to soft drinks.

And to remind myself that getting drunk isn't any fun, I've added another 'horror story' to my separate blog - links can be found through my profile (until I work out how to add it to the sidebar of this blog!)

Today's the day!

Today's the day I hand in my notice at work - 4pm, to be precise. I've scheduled my regular 1:1 meeting with my line manager for then and in a way I'm looking forward to it, and in another way I am sick with nerves. It's 85% down to him that I'm leaving: his appalling (mis)management of his team (me and 2 others), his lack of communication, his total disinterest in my career, and the fact that he blatantly lied about the job when I came for interview and has done nothing to address my concerns in the 20 months I've been here. I've been the first to defend him to others when things weren't his fault, but I'm not going to carry on letting him get away with all the shit he's been putting me through. I can't let some other poor person get interviewed for my job and end up being as unhappy, demotivated, disenchanted and stressed as I have become, so I'm also sending a letter to the Chief Exec and the MD to explain my reasons - because my line manager sure as hell will try and gloss things over.

I hate confrontation so this afternoon is going to be hard for me. Once upon a time, in a galaxy not very far from where I am right now, I'd have had a drink as soon as I got in from work to 'get over it' (or to celebrate having done it!) but I'm not going to tonight ...

Later that same day ...

I did it. I told my line manager I was leaving. I remained polite and calm. He knew some of my reasons but did not acknowledge his part in my decision. That doesn't matter, he will have to answer to someone other than me for that. I didn't back down on any of the points I made. I came out of his office and went back to mine, which I share with someone who has been, shall we say, difficult and unfriendly, and sometimes downright nasty to me, over the past 20 months. When I told her I was leaving she looked horrified, said, 'Oh no! You can't go!' and jumped up and hugged me and started to cry. Wow! I know a lot of that is because she's going to end up with a lot of my work while they look for someone else but she did seem genuinely sorry that I was going and I thought, all the time she was being difficult and unfriendly and downright nasty, I took it from her and was pleasant back to her, thinking that I was a mug for not answering back or making a fuss, but actually I was doing the right thing.

After that I went to see an ex-colleague who left in the summer. She had the same line manager as me and she couldn't work with him any longer, for the same reasons I couldn't, so she left. Funny, that.

Anyway, the deed is done, the glass of celebratory diet coke has been drunk, and this exhausted blogger is going to bed!

I hope you all sleep well tonight. I know I shall, for the first time in weeks!

Christmas cards

On the first Saturday night in December, I always write my Christmas cards. On the first Sunday in December I used to have to open them all up again to see what I'd written in them. I used to write my cards with first one, then two, then three and more glasses of wine and get more and more emotional as the evening and the pile of Christmas cards lengthened. Usually I hadn't written anything embarrassing, but often the handwriting had become illegible.

Last night I started to write my Christmas cards. This morning I don't need to open any of the envelopes to check the contents. What a bonus to not drinking! No hangover on a Sunday morning and 2 extra hours that would normally be spent opening and re-writing my cards!

Before I forget ...

... something spooky's just happened.

This morning, before I was properly awake, but when I was no longer asleep, I had the drowsy random thought that I would probably never hear a particular song again. It was a song I loved from the very early '70s, '72, I think. I only had it on one of those 'flexi-discs', a 7-inch record made of thin plastic that were sometimes given away free on magazines, and although it was popular at the time, it wasn't a huge hit, and it's almost never played on the radio.

This afternoon, sitting at the computer and getting stuck on the continuation of my novel, I was rather grumpily working out in my head that if I want to get my 100 sober days in before the end of the year I might be able to have a drink on New Year's Eve, or actually at Christmas, but I certainly couldn't have one today, although I do want one. I stood up to go downstairs and check the calendar to count the days and make sure I couldn't squeeze a drink in tonight and I heard three distinctive notes on the radio - the song I'd been half-thinking, half-dreaming of this morning!

So I turned the radio up and sang along and now I don't want a drink any more, the desire has passed.

It may sound ridiculous, but it's little things like this that tell me God does actually care about me. I know He exists, but I feel bad about making calls on His time, when there is so much else going on the world, and so many other people with much greater needs than mine. It's as if I don't feel important enough to Him. Something as simple as that song just now on the radio is like a hand on my shoulder and a voice saying, 'You're doing great and I'm here for you, you just have to ask - oh, and I was listening, I am always listening, even when you're not asking, so here's that song.'

Right, I'm going to stop crying now and get on with my novel, now that I've had my musical reminder that what I do does matter.

Broken wrist

No, not now! I've been reading MC's blog - problems with her back, poor thing - and I was reminded of the time I broke my wrist, just over 2 years ago. I fell over backwards, put my hand out to save myself, and fell awkwardly onto it, fracturing the radius and the ulna. Everyone, without exception, assumed I'd been drunk. I was most offended because I was stone cold sober, it was 8 in the morning and I'd just put on a pair of new shoes that were higher than I normally wear, and I wobbled and fell.

That first evening I decided that, apart from having a month off work in mid-summer, but not being able to drive the car to go anywhere to enjoy it, the very worst thing about breaking my wrist was that I couldn't uncork a bottle of wine. I was so frustrated that I went to my next-door neighbour (a non-drinker because she's never liked the taste) with bottle and corksrew and asked her to help me. She did so, but gave me a very disapproving look and asked me if I thought it was a good idea while I was on the horse-strength pain-killers I'd been given. I said that I only wanted a small glass, and that the bottle would probably last a week. Who was I trying to kid? Only my neighbour - I knew I'd finish it all in one go.

Not wanting to spend the next month trying different neighbours every night to open my wine for me, I discovered the joys online grocery shopping and screw-top bottles.

After the first month I was signed off for another 4 weeks. The time just flew past - day-time television and at least one bottle of wine daily. What a wicked waste of 2 months at home! I shan't be wasting time like that again, that much I do know!