On Friday, 26th October we said goodbye to my Nan at the Forest of Dean Crematorium. It felt like a long time coming and huge relief once over as we'd been waiting for this day for almost five weeks since her passing.
For the whole of this month I've felt unsettled, restless and drained - knowing my Nan is cold, still and just...lying there I guess. I know I paint a really morbid picture here but waiting for a funeral is the shittest thing ever.
I put myself forward to drive as the service was in Hereford, approximately two and a half hours from our home, which I felt was the obvious thing to do given my recent shunning of alcohol. We were offered a room at a local hotel...but a part of me felt like this could encourage some bad and out-of-character behaviour given the circumstances.
Although I feel so strongly about my decision to become a non-drinker being 100% the right one, I am always nervous about dealing with new and unfamiliar situations that may lead to increased stress and momentary weakness.
Like going on holiday for the first time...Jeeze! I couldn't stop freaking out over the impending situation and morphed into the tightest ball of bad energy and self loathing. If you fancy a read part one of two is here.
And the time one of my best friends flew back from Canada to celebrate her 30th birthday and I showed up to the bar clutching my car keys and crying hysterically. OK, so that didn't happen, but I pretty much felt like this on the inside. Up until this point (her birthday was only a few weeks back) I had avoided the Saturday night bar scene like the plague. Not that I'm out clubbing every weekend, but invites centred on extensive cocktail menus, loud music and obnoxious drunk people have been screwed up and set fire to with a match since I stopped drinking. I made the effort on this occasion but took serious joy in leaving the party.
So a funeral falls into this bracket of 'first time' events, and a fear of the unknown washed over me - actually no, crashed over me - as I made the lengthy drive to the ceremony. I knew that refusing the hotel room was the best decision I could have made. It eliminated any possibility of me being coerced into 'just one' to celebrate Nan's life, or a glass of red to relieve the stress and pain of her passing. If I removed my responsibility to drive home I would have been open to unnecessary pressure.
As a result of not drinking the day was far more successful than I ever imagined. I stayed in control of my emotions, I embraced family members with genuine compassion and enjoyed introductions to twice-removed cousins and long lost Aunts. I even managed to avoid an argument with Rob which would have erupted should I have been five glasses of vino in.
The day was just better. Infinitely better than an afternoon fuelled by booze and hate.
On the drive home I did feel slightly drained and wanted nothing more than to sit in silence and reflect on the sadness that absolutely was, but my Bro and Aunt had hopped in for a lift so we chatted more about my Nan's life and it helped to pass the time. Knowing that I'd be returning home to good sleep and a fresh head in the morning was everything I needed.
The next day Rob and I had plans to meet up with his friend and girlfriend for dinner in the evening. They're a lovely couple but sometimes I feel that socialising on a weekend, sans booze, can really feel unnatural, hard and just...shit. However I'm typically one of those people that hate hate hate cancelling so will usually put up with situations just to remain a good and reliable person.
Yet this weekend was different, and I decided (for once) to share how I felt with Rob - that socialising with his friends was the last thing I wanted to do - or felt capable of doing - given the funeral compounding my stress and anxiety levels. Luckily he didn't push back and we spent the night at the cinema instead, sat in silence watching a film which required little to no attention span which was utterly ideal for my fragile state of mind. It was bliss. And I'm so glad I said something as opposed to going with the flow.
At 113 days sober I'm learning that sobriety is mine, and yours, and absolutely no one else's - so never put yourself in a situation whereby you're pleasing others just for the sake of being a 'good' person. Sure, some days you'll have to put in a shift, but if you need to turn down a hotel room so you can exit an event early, or cancel boozy dinners with acquaintances that will make you feel inadequate then just do it.
Life is hard, but with alcohol it's so much harder. I'm so grateful for my sobriety this weekend, it's really pulled me through and I feel infinitely better for it.
No comments:
Post a Comment