Day 1…Done!

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.)

Gx