Six months sober!

I couldn't think of anything clever or cryptic to write for the title of this post so I just went with the crazy truth that I've hit six months alcohol free today! Writing this down and saying it out loud baffles me...it really does.

The summer months leading up to my decision to quit booze seem so long ago but like they happened only yesterday. The 2.00 a.m. benders chugging whatever I could get my hands on until black. Bunking off work for lie-ins that would surpass midday, and once surfaced my eyes could barely handle the soft noon light peeping through my bedroom blinds. Countless 'do you remember what you did last night' comments from my husband, which would send shooting pains of anxiety straight to my heart and make me hate myself for days. Pathetic drunk conversations. Wasted money. Burnt lungs from chain smoking. Embarrassing bloodshot zombie eyes covered in smudged black eyeliner and eye bogies. Clothes bursting at the seams (literally) due to excessive weight gain.

Turning 31 in March 2018 seemed to mark the beginning of the end of me. It was roughly four months before I decided to give up alcohol and I was in a terribly dark place. All of the above fuelled by drink after drink after drink eventually took it's toll, and I was knackered. Haggard, sad and knackered. I've touched on it lightly before, but I will never refer to myself as an alcoholic as I just don't feel it represents me or my situation accurately. But I do know that I was dependent on booze and it had me tight within its grip. So tight toward the final stages that I was absolutely verging on a mental breakdown.

When I sat down and took stock of all that was great and good in my life I realised it was all being affected, hindered and suffocated by alcohol. Why had I been tolerating this beast for so long? Why was I letting it wreck me without doing anything about it? If I cut myself I'll grab a plaster to ease the pain and heal the wound. Yet torture and suffering from drink? I'll just accommodate the swine, glug more and do nothing to patch up the damage.

The drunk-now-sober authors I've read often refer to booze as having a bad partner in their life, that they desperately want to kick out of bed but are still head over heels in love with - despite the constant abuse and shaming. I can understand how having a relationship like this with alcohol must be exhausting, but for me it was literally like a bomb exploded. A switch just flicked that made me say you know what, enough's enough. This isn't working for me any more. Once I had identified the cause of my pain it was an easy decision for me to kick the bastard out.

I can't encourage you enough to do the same if you're fed up with how alcohol is making you feel. Taking the power back is the best thing I have ever done, period.

So six months on. Where am I now? Long story short I'm in a really good place. Yes there have been some hugely difficult moments attached to abstaining which are detailed (and will continue to be talked about) on the blog, but aside from the mental and physical battles I've faced with my booze demon, Blix (literally. After an open bottle of white wine was left in our fridge after Christmas Day I grabbed it and went to take a swig but stopped mid trance, screamed and poured it down the sink. It was a tough day), I feel incredible.

There has been a seismic shift in my physical appearance which I'll talk about first. Yes I know this blog is still very anonymous (I promise I'll muster the courage to out my features one day!) but I can't express enough just how GOOD being alcohol free makes you look. Before I started to address exercise, I noticed so many improvements just from binning the booze. My eyes became brighter, my face seemed to deflate and the unsightly red blotches and spots I used to get at the tops of my arms disappeared pretty much instantly.

When I started to exercise and re-introduce sport in August 2018, roughly six weeks into sobriety, my body started to transform. I was a keen runner even as a drinker, but I seemed to be injured a lot and could never crack sub-nine minute miles at my very best pace. Since picking up hockey again which I play twice a week, and maintaining a running schedule which sees me run a minimum of 3.1 miles five days a week (now at eight minute miles, yay!), I'm managing to build muscle, tone everything, and for the first time this morning I looked in the mirror and thought yep, I'm pretty happy with this. A HUGE moment for me.

Before I quit booze I used to stare vacantly at my reflection and cover up the bumps with baggy jumpers and uncomfortably tight jeans. After absorbing the disappointment I'd then start to feel ashamed about the soft bits. I'd punish myself by not eating yet sink over half a bottle of wine a night and then allow the pizza and chocolate and carbs as a reward for being 'good' that day. In the build up to Christmas 2017 Rob made a comment about me wearing the same pair of trousers over and over again, and that he'd take me shopping for some new clothes if I desperately needed. I was so embarrassed (!) and at the risk of sounding like Regina George from mean girls they were genuinely the only thing that fit me back then. I didn't eat properly for a week and managed to shoe horn myself back into my black pair of skinnies as punishment. The cycle was endless.

I'm yet to stand on the scales, but when I weighed myself before I quit drinking I'd hit 10 stone. For the whole 5ft 3in of me it's the heaviest I've ever been. A weight I used to cry at. I will do the weigh in soon (end of Jan is marked!) but I'm pretty sure I may be edging back towards my wedding weight (which was 8st 5lbs) which is an exciting thought. I felt amazing then and I'm starting to feel amazing now....sobriety really is an incredible thing.

I have to be honest and say the mental side effects haven't been as noticeable as the physical improvements but I've always been quite a strong-minded person. Despite becoming increasingly depressed on hangover days I've always managed to put in a shift at work and remain happy with my life, yet for others the mental benefits of sobriety far outweigh the physical. For me it's definitely the other way round, but one thing I will say is the clarity is unbeatable. Just waking up on a Saturday morning to a fresh head and supple limbs is enough to make me never want to drink again. And wanting to crack on and be productive with my time as opposed to diarising hangover days and doing absolutely shit all is nothing short of life giving!

If someone would have asked me seven months ago 'fancy giving up booze forever?' I would have laughed in their face, genuinely! I used to pity the tee-totallers I'd meet, especially those who actively chose not to drink instead of giving it up for health or addiction reasons. What a bunch of losers! Who would actively choose stone-cold soberness over technicolour party fun times?!

Truth is the past six months have been the happiest and healthiest I've ever experienced. And looking back it was just the booze talking. I wasn't happy or enjoying myself before I quit. The only part of drinking I enjoyed was the feeling from the first one or two, the instant relief a couple of sips of wine would provide after a heavy day or stressful few hours. I'd never stop there though. I'd then hit drink three which would induce cigarette cravings, and then drink five which would increase my volume levels and arrogance, then drink eight which would slur my speech and make my eyes flicker. Anything after that would be black. And that, my friends, was the torturous monotony of my drinking.

The way I relax now is simply through me time. Unpolluted, fresh-air me time. I no longer need a glass or two to 'take the edge off', as my edge fell straight off as soon as I packed in the grog. I feel more calm, together and just generally more...zen! It's the only word I can use to describe it. Finishing a bottle of wine before bed and waking up with a stinking hangover gives me the shivers now, and if I can bin the bad stuff well in my eyes, anyone can.

In one month's time, and the day after I turn seven months sober, I'll be on a flight to Mexico with four girlfriends - Cancun bound for a week of all inclusive hen do madness. I haven't thought about it much but I am, in truth, starting to feel a tiny bit apprehensive about the whole thing. My aim for the rest of Jan is to write as many positive stories about my sobriety as I can, and no doubt recap on some face melting moments, to help me prepare for what will be my biggest challenge yet. I feel strong, but remain realistic to the fact that my triggers could one day get the better of me if I become complacent at any time.

Right here though, on the 8th of Jan, six months sober feels absolutely epic and who knows where the year will take me. 2019 I'm ready for you.