The Middle Class Alcohol Dependant – 90 Days to Change my life – All it means is you're giving up the more expensive stuff…

11/02/2019

Fortitude, Gratitude and Fuck-ups

Leo Tolstoy once wrote “everyone thinks of changing the world, but no-one thinks about changing themselves.” Well Leo, I think your 19th century Russian wisdom was totally flawed because here comes my own personal War and Peace. All I can think about is changing myself, because I am a fully grown man, who is 1 day sober and who has almost come close to loosing the only thing dear to him (too many times)

And apparently has an alcohol dependency….

Wow, that’s actually quite liberating saying that….

(Said no alcohol dependant person ever.) What utter rubbish! Because in typically middle-class spirit – no pun intended) as I sit writing this listening to a mix of songs in a stereotypical corporate coffee shop I realise that I have let my own middle-class fortunate life get out of control; and that my friends is not cool. So if I only change my own life, well done me and in a moment of smug self congratulations I salute you. But if this does anyone else any good then fuck you Leo.

So here’s my story (and frankly I am hoping that it’s more common than I actually think.) I like a drink and not just any drink the good stuff. I like the good stuff so much that I have often said to my wine merchant (the level of irony in that statement isn’t lost on me and don’t worry I am not consuming wine by the barrel, well not all in one sitting!) that they’re enabling addicts. My self reflection (whilst genius) wasn’t really that hard to come up with, it was a moment of looking in the mirror of self-denial. If I needed anymore proof I was referring to my own addicted self and that, yes I do like a little more than just a drop of the claret, it happened this Friday (more on that fuck-up in a minute) after which I went searching for answers to my questions…

The first thing I googled was “am I drinking too much” (I mean if you’ve got to ask….) I came across http://www.drinkaware.co.uk – who very politely told me I may have an ‘alcohol dependency’. Isn’t that just a middle class way of saying I am an absolute piss head (queue more Michael McIntyre phrases about getting ‘shedded’ etc…) Frankly I struggle to understand the difference between being an alcoholic and alcohol dependant….don’t get me wrong, I have never drunk out of a brown bag on a park bench (I find them so cold) and I haven’t had ever needed a ‘settler’ in the morning. You also wouldn’t catch me drinking White Lightening, goodness no, the mineral and acidity balance isn’t quite right and I would imagine it needed several more centuries in the bottle to reach it’s limited potential. Isn’t alcohol dependency a middle-class alcoholic?

And there beautifully articulated is my own stereotypical view of alcoholics. “I am not one” I keep reminding myself, I am ‘alcohol dependant.’ Plus this really isn’t my fault, my old man was a proper alcoholic, I mean literally a bottle of whiskey a day (to be fair the next man who was married to my mother was a manic depressive by the end, so a if a bottle of Bells took the edge off I really do have sympathy for my Dad….) Studys show the very strong link between genetics and dependency. So that’s it then, I am not an alcoholic and if I was it wouldn’t be my fault anyway right…God throw in the toxic and destructive relationship I had with a cruel mother and the holy triumvirate are there assembled, motive, means and opportunity. I can feel the buck already being passed.

But Friday was different…At Christmas the love of my life agreed to marry me, literally the best day of my life. She is out of my league. Kind, smart, thoughtful, generous, caring, literally with film star beauty.

To make matters slightly more shameful for me Friday was the start of her birthday weekend and I took her away to London for what should have been a beautiful weekend. It would have been other than the fact that when I consume alcohol in volume it changes me. And did I consume alcohol in volume. By 9:30 at on Friday night I had consumed the body weight of a small baby seal. Then the misunderstanding (on my part) starts, then the silence, then the meanness and then the spite. It’s roughly the same cycle every time this has happened, which is 3 times more than it should have happened.

Because truthfully it doesn’t get any better than the woman by my side and she absolutely deserves better than me when I have had a skinful. Don’t get me wrong, I would like to think (and she tells me I am) that I am a relatively decent human being for the majority of the time. But when I’ve been on the old moonshine I loose a certain grip on reality, get depressive and have a tendency to act like King Kong at the top of the Empire State. If only the internet was awash with the side effects of alcohol…oh having looked on google, yup mood swings, depression and aggressive behaviour all well known side effects, who knew…? So I need to change and change for good because I can’t risk loosing the love of my life.

We are all primeval when it comes to it, situational queue and response and I walked out on Friday night in the heat of the moment, when subconsciously I knew I had been a tool of the highest magnitude, she stayed true and by my side, something I will never forget and so as Chris Brown said (maybe a terrible artiste to quote at this point….) “if this love only exists in my dreams, don’t wake me up….”

But here I am; grounded in the eyes wide open realisation (and for this I can’t conceptualise my gratitude) the love Chris is referring to really does exist, and I will never close my eyes again. So in a moment of absolute heartfelt unguarded emotion this relationship is the most important thing in the world to me (have you ever seen a grown man start to quietly tear-up in Costa!)

So there it is; that is my why, the why I need to change, why I can’t drink maybe ever again. I can’t, won’t and don’t want to take the chance that I would for one minute be out of control of my own senses where there would even be a fractional 0.01% chance (I got a C at GCSE maths, fractions and decimals were never a strong point) that I become a thief who stole someones heart, because I want this love to last for the rest of my life. I broke the trust of the only person who has ever truly loved me. Projected my own insecurities, anxiety and insecurities on to her in a cruel, indefensible and egregious way, if that isn’t enough to be sorry, stop looking at the world and start looking at changing myself I don’t know what is.

So I made it through 1 day sober, queue standing ovation, the crowd go wild, mentions in dispatches and medals before tea and all that. I can’t remember the last day I didn’t have a drink and this is going to beabout small victories. I know that this is going to be a battle; a battle royale, one which is going to require stamina and fortitude. But I’ve got my why, I woke up with her this morning and despite my best efforts of self-destruction I’ll go to bed with her tonight. I feel like I won the lottery, I just can’t get on the sauce to celebrate my big win. I made it through despite going out for lunch to celebrate the birthday weekend with family and wine being consumed around me. Day 1, take the cookie cutter and repeat right? So goodbye old demonic friend, I see you and raise you, or maybe more appropriately I am out (he says desperately trying not to replace one destructive habit for another…😂) because I am playing for my life now and I am not prepared to gamble with it for a single second.

I don’t profess to be a paragon of virtue, just a middle-class alcohol dependant unemployed thirty something trying to take a grip of his life and keep dear his dearest (you know who you are…)

Love (sprinkled with the tiniest bits of self-flagellation and self-forgiveness.)

25/02/19

14 Days sober

So it has been 14 days of sobriety and the usual meaning of I’m in clover means something slightly different to me than it ever has. According to the Oxford English Dictionary, that well vaunted Scrabble companion (does anyone actually play Scrabble any more!) “being in clover” means they are living a luxurious and comfortable life. In the truest sense of the word phrase the clover is ‘financial’ but I’ve come to redefine what riches are actually important.

14 days (and actually today is 15) is the longest I’ve gone in I can’t remember how long of not drinking. And whilst the party poppers and balloons absolutely need to stay down it is getting somewhat easier for me. But here in my opinion is where I have inherited untold and frankly unimaginable riches.

1. A presenteeism: that I haven’t felt in a very long time. I feel uniquely in the moment, but not just once or twice for the majority of the time. It’s interesting presenteeism is generally referring to people at work and how much productivity they absolutely smash out. I’m utilising some tools to really help focus my mind:

– @bulletjournal helps me plan and to organise my thoughts. I’m trying to make time for it daily and I’m excited to come to the end of the first month. It genuinely is helping me be more thoughtful and have less going on in my mind.

– @5amclub is a great book which I am powering through which is starting to harness my brain in to being organised and unlimited the walls that I’ve had around my mind in terms of what I am capable of.

– @simplehabit meditating once a day (Jesus Christ, someone bring me the woodbine and peace out brother) helps to quell any anxiety I have and to proactively try and be mindful. It’s not always easy and I’m not in a regular routine but it has definitely helped.

I’m not saying these tools are perfect but I’ve blogged before about how my internal compass struggles pointing me in the right direction and the truth is that these tools all help.

The biggest upside of my presenteeism is that I feel more bonded, more connected, like I’ve bought the best of my to my relationship. And that’s a beautiful thing because my beautiful better half deserves that, I knew we were in love deeply before but I centred balanced and wonderful. Things I had been numbing slightly with alcohol. It’s a great feeling to be present 100% rather than just 80%.

2. Less feelings of anxiety and panic: it’s a cycle isn’t it…you have a few beers too many and you wake up in the morning and can’t remember how much of an arse you were. And that’s just one thing that you are potentially anxious about. I have to recognise that somewhere there is still the effects of alcohol in my system. Still. It will probably be there for another week.

But the overwhelming truth is that I am anxious about 1 thing and that is what happens if I ever want a drink again. I won’t let it control me. I can’t. Can I ever have a drink again. What if I do and I can’t stop and I blow up like a small RPG? All these thoughts are running round my head. And I’ve come to 2 conclusions:

– concentrate on 1 major self improvement at one time. Gain mastery of this and then decide to move on.

– I’ll be ready to have a drink again (and that might be never) when I can trust myself and not have those thoughts of will I be out of control swirling round my head. It’s like that will be when I know I’m ready…but that is unique that is a perspective I’ve never had. New life riches.

3. A focus on all round wellness: now I’m not packing away the BrewDogs like a mentalist it’s time to get my body back in shape. That doesn’t mean I’ll be joining the 300 anytime soon just that I know that I sleep better. Feel better; more in control of any stress and anxiety when I am physically active. What is it they say “pain is weaknesses way out of the body!” Or something like that but I’m going to run 4 times a week, spin twice and gym 3 times. I’m going to do my upmost to outshine Mat Fraser (I wish) but I know it’s what I need to do to make sure that I stay absolutely in tune with my current self.

So I’ve have a newfound appreciation for my own personal wealth and I keep coming back to a quote from Teddy Roosevelt which I think is brilliant, all about putting yourself out there. To keep trying, to keep pushing ones self no matter what:

“It is not the critic who counts; not the man who points out how the strong man stumbles, or where the doer of deeds could have done them better. The credit belongs to the man who is actually in the arena, whose face is marred by dust and sweat and blood, who strives valiantly; who errs and comes short again and again; because there is not effort without error and shortcomings; but who does actually strive to do the deed; who knows the great enthusiasm, the great devotion, who spends himself in a worthy cause, who at the best knows in the end the triumph of high achievement and who at the worst, if he fails, at least he fails while daring greatly. So that his place shall never be with those cold and timid souls who know neither victory nor defeat.”

So I say let the alcohol who in this case is the critic do it’s job elsewhere because I am busy embracing the change and getting better by learning.