Re-bonjour!

I’ve been thinking about my blog again of late, probably because I usually do around the times that my parentals up the anti, so to speak. We’d had silence since last summer, but their latest campaign of hate mail started a few months ago, launched with a card on my birthday. More of that later. But it got me thinking about how the blog had helped me and inspired me to start anew, and reap the benefits of my old confessional again.

I’d like to say that I have been 100% entirely sober since I last wrote, but I’d be lying. Well, sort of. I have had a drink, but I haven’t got drunk and I am not planning to beat myself up about the following lapses: some red wine in November and a couple of glasses of champagne at Xmas at K’s sister’s house.

The wine (on two consecutive evenings) in November was a reminder that if you don’t drink regularly the taste soon goes away. It was like vinegar, though I ploughed valiantly on and finished it, probably in the misguided belief that the desire would come back to me! I had felt overwhelmed with emotions at the time (a combination of K’s dad dying, my mum’s birthday passing without my acknowledging it and still being on tenterhooks about whether or not I would be offered a new job as another Xmas not speaking to my family approached) but that is no excuse. Other people deal with these things without the drink and it was a classic case of the booze as a crutch to make everything ‘go away’. It did, however, persuade me that my drinking habits were deeply ingrained and the notion of returning to moderate consumption was/is a fantasy.

The champers on Christmas Eve and Day was laughable; a couple of glasses and I was snoozing on the sofa like a granny! This wee taster was the result of pure and simple greed. Nothing more. Having been rewarded by a couple of private jet suppliers with some expensive bottles as a Christmas gift, I couldn’t help but have a glass myself. It tasted decidedly odd (though my sister in law assured me that was my palate and nothing to do with the booze!) and after just 2 glasses I moved on to sparkly mineral water. I was never much of a champagne drinker in the first place, so it was hardly my greatest temptation! It did prove to me that I wasn’t missing out when everyone else was drinking fine wine and that I was no more likely to stick to a few glasses of Laurent Perrier as I was a few glasses of gut rot, if I were to ever drink again. I put the myths to bed about plonk v. vintage – no matter the age, no matter the cost it all takes its toll on you in exactly the same way!

My last sip of alcohol was on New Years’ Eve when I toasted the arrival of 2010 with a half bottle of fizzy white wine. Same old story – tasted quite unpleasant and made me feel woozy so I have vowed to stay true to my word this year and not bother with booze at all. So far, so very good. I haven’t touched a drop and I have stopped being even remotely interested in it; I can not think of a single time that I have wished I was drinking again.

The only unpleasant development has been my growing intolerance of the drunk! God only knows that over the years I have embodied every aspect of inebriated – from tipsy to paralytic. I have no desire to detail these episodes, but suffice to say they were numerous and messy. Looking back, I was always surrounded by folk who drank to excess – from my family to my friends and I chose my friends wisely; the more they drank the more appealing they were. It’s strategic. I went home to my parents regularly as I could spend the weekend going from one drinking opportunity to the other; the downside was the possibility of an unpredictable rage from my mother but I viewed these as collateral damage. I said yes to weddings (which I always hated) as it was usually a free bar. I wore people down who came to stay with me to let me open ‘just another bottle’ knowing full well I’d probably drink the lion’s share. A drinker equalled a good egg; a teetotaller was dull and repressed and whilst I counted some amongst my friends I didn’t go out of my way to meet such straight and boring people! I even highlighted my love of red wine in the first line of my online dating profile. No-one influenced me any more than I influenced others so I am neither apportioning blame for my drink issues to others nor looking to excuse my self from the path I chose.

Now, however, I have to choose my social occasions wisely. I am becoming very discriminating, not because an event will be necessarily bad, but because the fun will often depend upon how much one has drunk. As such I now proceed with caution when invited to hen weekends, weddings, house parties, office parties and drinks receptions. Some will pose no problems and the experience will be enhanced by sobriety. Others I can safely say I rule out straight away. There are 2 criteria for whether or not I go.
1) Would I have enjoyed this had I been still drinking?
2) Will I still enjoy this now I am sober?
There are many events that bored me back then no matter how much booze I downed, so these are ruled out straight away. There are times though that I can say I enjoyed something regardless of alcohol, so can I get away with enjoying it now when I am not drinking. Sometimes it’s a yes and I truly enjoyed a spa hen weekend recently which was civilised, relaxing and grown up. The only awkward bit was the Ann Summers party aspect, but a couple of hours of feeling like an observer was a small price to pay for a lovely girlie weekend.

I have always hated office parties (forced fun – yuk!) so I always will. I went to one last Xmas under duress and because I was new to the company and keen to secure a permanent job. I will make my excuses early this year and not put myself through the awkwardness of smiling beatifically whilst normally stiff and buttoned up white male professionals find singing vibrators and pussy rub hilariously funny. I don’t enjoy such ‘humour’ on a day to day basis so the addition of party hats, curled up nibbles and flat, warm coke made the experience even more painful to endure.

It’s less simple when it’s your own close friends who have ‘had a few too many’. Most of my friends have responded to my non-drinking with aplomb. They will have alcohol if they feel like it, in moderation, but many take the opportunity to not drink neither and give their liver a rest. Either way I am more than happy to socialise as before, having drinks, going for dinner, popping round for tea and cake with their offspring, but occasionally someone throws caution to the wind and drinks freely and without bounds. I cringe when their voice gets louder, smile weakly when they make silly, ditzy mistakes and can do nothing to prevent myself seeing them as others once saw me and am crippled with the embarrassment factor. It’s far less about how drunk they are and far more about the memories it brings back and how they now make me feel.

Sobriety has shone a light on the deep, dark corners of my past and God knows how I wish I could turn it off.