Aaarrgghhhh, the stress of keeping alcohol within limits! That’s what did me in… the constant thinking about it, the worry and the endless deals that I made with myself, all to keep my drinking within some sort of reasonable limits. The devious plans, the trades and trade offs, the cunning notions.
If I could just keep it for the weekends…. but then I’d buy a bottle of wine as an essential ingredient for a midweek spaghetti bolognese just to scoff the leftovers. Plan failed… and the guilt and the shame then. Often midweek I would be hunting around for social activities as these too might give me an excuse to have a drink.
I was running out of excuses for all those excuses I kept giving myself.
When you are someone who wants to drink more and more but you’re white-knuckling it, keeping things within limits, the stress is immense. Immense! It’s such a huge relief to slough that off and not need to keep count anymore, no need to tally up the units and then work out if you can have one more; I would inevitably end up drinking more than I meant to and then the mental self-abuse would kick in. So, so exhausting.
And no need to go out with people more than you might choose to, just to have a few drinks with them, like a normal person.
No waking up in the morning with regrets and recriminations all a’swirl around your head. No waking up thinking: ‘What rubbish was I talking last night?’ No hangovers either – what a life!
What a relief… yes, life is so much less stressful… mind you that doesn’t mean no stress at all. Haha. If only.
