It was a few days before Christmas and I had a catch-up with my bestie. There was so much to celebrate! We had champagne to celebrate her recent engagement, espresso martinis to celebrate the kids going to bed for the night, and after the martinis kicked in and the Celine Dion and Meatloaf film clips started, we brought out the shots of Soju (Korean Liquor that comes in so many yummy flavours. It’s dangerous!).
The next morning, oh my goodness. The hangover. The struggle.
It wasn’t just the seediness of the alcohol exiting through my sleep-deprived body, mind, and soul, that was ruining me, but I swear, the kids could sniff it out. It’s like they could sense my weakness, and that’s when they’d strike.
“Can we have ice cream for breakfast?” They’re jumping on the bed. I can feel a headache starting to kick in.
“Yep, sure. Off you go.” I say, rolling over and hiding my head under the pillow.
I hear them open the freezer door, rummaging around for the ice cream. There’s slamming of drawers and clanging of spoons, as they help themselves to this special breakfast treat. After another 20 minutes, they’re back, jumping onto the bed, elbows and knees first. Oooch. Ouch. I cop a knee to the thigh. It feels like one of those hard ‘cork’ punches that my older brothers would dish out for ‘fun’ that left a massive bruise. I feel so vulnerable. I’m in disbelief too, in my sleepy haze.
Oh, so now they want to be the best of friends, spending quality time together, I think to myself. They have a common goal. Exploit the parents.
They shout the next question excitedly, in unison. “Can we watch TV?”
“Go for it”, I say. It’s just easier to have a ‘yes day’ today.
The day went on much this way for what felt like an eternity.
That was the last time I drank. It’s March now.
It wasn’t just the hangover, which had put me off drinking for a while. I’d been considering my drinking for a few months. I’d noticed a habit forming. A way of using alcohol that had snuck up on me unconsciously. It would be that time of the afternoon when my energy would slump and the kids would be coming home from school, firing on all cylinders, totally exhausted, hungry, excited to be home, and all competing for attention.
Within minutes, the chaos, the noise, the arguing on the drive home, the throwing down of bags, kicking off of shoes, rummaging through the pantry and opening of fridge doors, I would feel my anxiety peaking.
I’m losing my cool, I’d find myself thinking. Breathe. Just breathe.
“Can everyone just get out of the kitchen please?” I’d say to the kids, trying to gain control. “I’ll make some sandwiches”.
It’s all too much! I go outside to put the cooler bricks in the freezer on the balcony. I see the beers in the fridge. They’re right there. I grab one to take the edge off. It is a hot day, after all! I start to drink it as I make the sandwiches. “Ok boys, go outside and play in the yard”, I tell them. Then the whingeing starts.
“But it’s hot!” Middle Man says.
“I’m exhausted. I just want to read in my room” Big Boy responds.
“Yeah, I’m hungry”, replies Crazy Cat.
Fine, whatever. I can’t be bothered arguing. I think to myself. I take myself outside. At least I’ll be happy outside. I start pottering in the garden, pulling weeds, trying to find some shade. It IS bloody hot out here! Before I know it, I’ve knocked back the first beer. It has gone down a treat. I’ll have another.
Then I’m having one while getting dinner ready. A red or white wine to go with the pasta I’m cooking up for dinner. Or maybe a rum and coke if I’m really tired and need some extra caffeine and sugar to liven me up and get me through the night-time routine.
This habit of drinking to take the edge off each afternoon, I hadn’t even noticed occurring. It became so ingrained in my everyday life. It wasn’t that I was drinking a lot. A few drinks. The trouble with it for me was that it didn’t actually take ‘the edge’ off, it made ‘the edge’ sharper. I ended up feeling more irritable, more emotional or more rambling. Whatever feeling I was experiencing, good or bad, became amplified. Meaning that the kids and I could be having a great old dance party to ‘Backstreet’s Back’ if the vibe was right. But, if I was feeling low, it made me feel even lower. It wasn’t a good habit for me.
So, I’ve taken a break from alcohol. I’m hoping that I can have a different relationship with alcohol again. To use it for celebrations and special occasions. To have an association with alcohol that is more positive and fun.
I had a couple of glasses of red wine the other weekend, with my husband, while on our 10th-anniversary getaway. It was rainy weather, we were warm inside with the fireplace going, in our cabin in the woods at Bunya Mountains, watching a DVD because there was no internet and barely any mobile reception. It was lovely.