January: The month of belonging

My first sober January has been truly fascinating and we're only 15 days in so far.

Now that the gluttony and over-doing-it of December is old news, my friends and family all seem to be turning their attention to Dry Jan, detoxing and general low key-ness. Cue my big excited smiley face, hovering above them like the Teletubbies sun baby. A seasoned expert on all that is great and good about sobriety and quickly ushering everyone through to my secret little sober club.

THIS is Sober Symposium, come and join the party!

OK, so I'm getting a bit carried away. But I really feel quite pumped about this typically dark and hated month as my loved ones continue to turn to me for advice and guidance. I know the bubble will burst as soon as February lands, so for now I'm riding the wave and revelling in this warm and fuzzy sense of belonging.

You see, January (for me) is a very cleansing month and always has been - even more so when I drank myself into oblivion. Last year I was absolutely on my knees come Christmas Day from countless benders and booze-induced chain smoking, and by New Years eve the husband and I were in a taxi home just after midnight as I was a rancid combination of sick and hungover. I didn't know if I was more of one thing than the other, but I struggled to keep the 12.00 a.m. Champagne toast down and wanted nothing more than to curl up and die.

The arrival of January 2018 was a relief but I was riddled with pain and anxiety. I'd really overdone it (by my standards - eeesh) and started the year feeling like shit, but finally I'd made it. I'd arrived at the detox door and was banging hard to be let in.

It's weird looking back. My decision making was always governed, no - dominated, by alcohol. It was top of the priority tree and every branch that stemmed from its poisoned trunk grew as a defeated after thought. Every decision I made outside of work (and many times within it) started with 'well I'll want to have a drink so...'.

But January was different. It gave me a snippet of hope that I could be a better version of myself and I always bought into the idea. However as booze was my default reward for good behaviour I'd quickly slip back into my old drinking ways once I'd sweated out the last of the festive hangover. I'd tell myself that I'd done the right thing by having one or two weeks off the grog and then stupidly supplement my reduced food intake with 'good' alcohol calories. 'That's it, I'm being healthy and only drinking clear spirts with slimline tonic until further notice' would be my favourite New Year announcement. A Caesar salad and chaser of gin - seemed a perfectly healthy approach in my eyes.

If only I knew what January, and every other month, could feel like if I'd removed alcohol from the equation sooner. Every half-arsed attempt at swimming to the surface would end with booze dragging me back down to the depths of despair. And I really was in despair, so never will I sit here and give myself a hard time over not realising the errors of my ways a little earlier on. I was spellbound by the stuff without even knowing it, and that's exactly what alcohol does. Blink once and 15 years of socially acceptable alcohol abuse will rocket by. You're in the trap without realising (Allen Carr's Stop Drinking Now book explains this theory more).

So January 2019, how do I feel? In comparison to previous years I feel good, like I'm in the right place, but still mindful of the fact I'm new to sobriety. Six months is an amazing achievement (whoop) but I do think about alcohol all the time and have some huge social events approaching that will require my undivided strength. Like my all inclusive week in Mexico on February 9th. I'm trying not to think about it otherwise my stomach flutters will get worse and I'll be on the floor in a ball of panic before I've even left for the airport. Although I can't help but think about it... you get the picture!

But anyway, back to the title of this post and my new sense of belonging. I was babysitting for my nieces on Saturday and my brother commented on how I look like someone who hasn't had a drink in six months. I laughed and asked him to expand, and he said 'I don't know, you've just got this glow'. Chuffed by his comments I started to think about the other January 'goings on' that have been solely attached to my sobriety.

My husband has decided to join me in non-drinking and has committed to Dry Jan, although he's running a half marathon late-February and has said he has every intention to continue his efforts until this point. I really hope he can make it this far although I know, as booze is his reward at the end of the month, he may well be inclined to throw in the towel once alcohol is back on the table. It's exactly what I used to do. I'm loving him off it though and I think he is too. Our weekly food shops now incorporate tonnes of interesting alcohol-free concoctions (as he's in the excited and novel 'buy everything' stage) and he's adamant he's not missing it... but I think the fact that his mates are all in hiding too is massively helping.

It's actually one thing I'd majorly recommend if you want to quit drinking but don't know where or how to start. I made sure that the first month of my sobriety was as plan-free as possible, and if anything in the diary made me feel worried or nervous I'd simply cancel/reschedule/hide. True, I didn't help myself by going on holiday 40-odd days into sobriety (however that all worked out fine! - couple of posts about it here) but as this was something I was doing with just my husband I was able to control the situation a lot more. A boozy get together in a pub with mates within the first few months of quitting just wasn't a possibility for me.

I think it's all about identifying your triggers which for many come in the form of party-animal mates (I will talk about this more at some stage) or certain locations/activities - like dropping in at your local on a Saturday or hosting a wine-fuelled dinner party at home (my old fave). I read somewhere (and I think it's a well-known quote) that you can't heal in the same environment that poisoned you. Or words to that effect.

I really feel this summarises sobriety quite well - how would I ever have saved myself from drowning if I kept putting my head under water? It's absolutely OK to remove yourself from situations that no longer feel safe. It's by no means a permanent solution either (I'm now much more comfortable in restaurants and pubs than I was when I first quit) but if it is, who cares? Taking yourself away from the danger is key - it got me through the early days and my friends are still my friends. Nobody died as a result of me staying home.

And for many of my friends who are doing Dry Jan, and even those who aren't, my 191 days of consecutive non-drinking is quite a fascinating talking point. I'm not sure why, but for some reason I just feel like January is a good month to discuss my experience of quitting - but really talk about it, you know? I'm not expecting this month to revolutionise the way in which my friends and family drink, but if anything I think my general openness to talk about abstaining from booze is falling on ears that are actually tuned in and listening.

Sobriety can sometimes feel like a very lonely and isolated place, and just when I was starting to feel like maybe I should just drink in Mexico to be fun and feel included, January reminds me that not drinking is a thing, it's my thing, and a week on the piss in Latin America just isn't worth it.