I endured a really testing telephone conversation last night and need to vent about it.
This coming Saturday I have my cousin's hen party in Windsor and since becoming a non-drinker getting from A to B has become SO much easier. No more relying on expensive taxis or roping in friends or family for lift favours - I'm completely independent and when plans pop up that involve a bit of driving I know I'm sorted.
It genuinely feels like having a super power - Logistics Girl!
So as I'm now so capable and useful I try to help others as much as I can. If we're venturing into town to meet friends I'll let people know I'm driving. And usually my friends jump at the chance as it means more of them can have a drink.
And for real, I used to have our local taxi firm on speed dial as getting on the booze was always the priority. 'Oh hey Em, yeah sure we can get a car to you. Where you going this time.'
Yet despite loving my new found driving freedom I can still relate to my friends and family who drink. The perils of paying for costly cabs, endless calls chasing the whereabouts of a driver and unexplained delays. Even failure to show are just some of the stresses that come with the territory of drinking. Which is why I'm happy to chip in and buzz around the houses when I can.
I called my mum last night for a chat - nattering about Christmas plans and catching up on life in general. After we'd got the small talk out the way I broached my cousin's hen do and mentioned I was going to drive, and that I could help her with a lift as her house is on the way. She knows I haven't been drinking for a while but we haven't spoken about why. She's never asked.
I knew my announcement of driving would stimulate some sort of comment, but the response I received took me back a bit and the conversation led to me feeling hurt by her attitude toward my decision to not drink.
After she accepted my offer of a lift the question came. 'So how long are you going to do this for'. I replied 'Do what' so she continued. 'Well, this. This whole not drinking thing. What's it all about'. Her tone was huffy and jokey.
The first word that popped into my head was 'ignorance'. And tact. Lack of tact. It was as if I was undertaking some silly challenge or task which apparently inconvenienced her?
'I'm not quite sure I know the answer to that Mum, but drinking isn't really doing it for me any more and I'm simply taking a break.' That's as much as I could give her. But I embellished slightly to remain conversational.
'I just felt like I was drinking too much and nothing good was coming from it.'
But it was the next statement that started to make my blood temperature increase. Not boil, just an upping of heat that made me want to shut the conversation down quickly and firmly. I realised I was talking to someone, my own Mum, who had absolutely zero understanding of my situation and evidently her own.
'You weren't drinking in the week were you, Em? Oh you were? Hmm. Oh dear. I never drink in the week. Only as a treat at the weekends. Nope, never in the week. That's not good. I didn't realise you were that bad.'
I couldn't believe what I was hearing. My mum was THE midweek drinker, and I know this because I lived with her for what, 18 years? My childhood was surrounded by alcoholic drinks being poured nightly. If my parents weren't enjoying a brandy or beer with dinner every.night.of.the.week something was wrong. Nothing would stop them from having a 'well needed' or 'deserved' drink.
Sure she may have cut back in recent years but I couldn't believe the patronisation. I really felt judged and for a split second angry. But then I remembered that people who drink, and typically defend or rationalise their behaviour, tend to be completely unaware of the amount they're actually consuming. My mum is that person. I just thought on this occasion she may have been more supportive.
Perhaps it's my fault that I haven't been more talkative about my sobriety but what am I supposed to do? Call every single one of my friends and family and have a lengthy discussion about my decision to not drink? Hold a press conference announcing my stepping down from boozing? That may work for some people but my approach has to be slow and steady. The approach that's right for me.
But it's moments like above, where my mum had the opportunity to ask questions and really get her head around my decision to stop drinking - which, by the way, is apparently a huge deal in my family (step-mum behaviour in my previous post) - that confirm my cautiousness is right and for a reason. So many people are brainwashed by the alcohol industry and instead of listening to your reasons why not to drink they take it as an opportunity to cast shame and judgement to protect their own insecurities.
Apparently now I've quit drinking it's cool to label me as a problem drinker? Not cool.
I quickly closed the conversation and felt really deflated by the whole thing. My mum and I aren't massively close but I just felt frustrated by her lack of empathy and support. And as I haven't told many people about my sobriety I'm now even more nervous about discussing it openly.
If I hadn't called her to offer a lift none of this would have happened! Lesson learned for next time. Perhaps offering to help people as a result of being sober is just asking for trouble.
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