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Kombucha

A week ago I started the process of making Kombucha. Tonight I’ve sampled it and I’m very pleased with the result. I’m drinking this jar unflavoured as it is but I’ll be adding fruit to the other 2 jars and leaving them to ferment for another 3 days. Proper chuft.

Oh and I’m 3 years sober so that’s nice too 😆💃🤘❤ Celebrating with Kombucha and Haruki Murakami 🙏

Snow thanks

My husband running to the toilet to be sick this morning and being too hungover to build a snowman with me and the kids is an excellent reminder of what I’m not missing out on ❄❤
Mine and the kids pathetic attempt 😆

Sweary post. Sorry, not sorry.

Merry Christmas you brilliant bastards 👌
I was 34 months yesterday and shamed by my sister patronising me and calling me a “born again religious fantatic about alcohol”, bearing in mind she was pissed and I haven’t even mentioned being booze free to her or anyone away from the sobriety groups for a very long time. A reminder that people are arseholes regardless of whether they’re family 😆

I can not moderate. Anything.

I’ve been sugar free for 5 weeks but on Saturday night I allowed myself 1 cookie. Sunday night I allowed myself another cookie. Last night I tried to stick to one cookie but ended up eating 3 cookies and a bag of marshmallows after exhausting myself thinking about whether I should have 2 cookies.
I’m back to no cookies today.
I can not moderate.

Recycling

These bottles of Southern Comfort and Captain Morgan’s Spiced Rum have sat gathering dust in the utility room for nearly 3 years, which just goes to show how little hubby drinks, and how marvelous I am at sobriety even with temptation so near by 💪😆
Today their contents satisfyingly disappeared down the drain (ok there was a slight pang of regret because I hate waste, even when the waste is stomach stripping life reducing poison).
After much huffing and puffing scrubbing the labels away I handed them over to the kids to improve. Now instead of them sitting behind the tumble dryer having spiders rub their bottoms all over them they can be proudly displayed on the front step along with the pumpkins 🎃

How Dare You

Tesco dictates what’s essential now; Hands off those books and cd’s. Queues for the tills start at the alcohol aisle. I’ll stare at the twinkling bottles and part of me will lust. I’ll spend the 10 minutes waiting to pay fighting with my sobriety. Essential for life; whiskey, wine, beer, cider. My skin prickles with need. My mask sweats against my cheeks which burn with guilt from my thoughts. I want to reach out and pluck one of those beautiful bottles. Casually I could place it in my trolley. Nobody here knows. The cashier would scan the liquid gold while we chat about hard times. She’ll joke I’ll be in need of a glass as soon as I’m home, as we all are, it’s no crime. A glass, just the one, maybe another while cooking tea. The third while I’m eating, and a fourth to wash it down. By which time I’ll be lost to the need. I’ll be gone. I’ll be there again the next day. And the next one after that. Essential lockdown shopping. Those shining luscious things. Tempting me back 3 years to a place I’ve waved goodbye to. 3 years to wave goodbye. One drink to say hello, impossible to then let go.
How dare you. How dare you.
How dare you.

Sonnet

I had to write a sonnet for my poetry class today so I did it on a memory (I’m 2 years, 7 months sober btw but I’ll never forget this and a million other similar memories):

Drunk

Trembling, tripping, tumbling,

my feet lost on the stairs.

A sickening warning rumbling;

my stomach empties between the chairs.

I’ve done it again.

I’m aware I’m a mess,

on the floor in the den

with sick on my dress.

A whirring in my ears,

my body an ache.

Here come the fears.

Again, for fuck’s sake.

“Never again”, the mantra of old.

Lying alone, I shiver with cold.

Mastered it.

2 years and 7 months sober today as I crack on with the last day of the welcome week at Bangor University. I never thought I would ever be studying for my Masters and yet here I am, doing it! Admittedly I’m gutted that I can’t be in lectures with my classmates connecting on a personal level and ripping each other to shreds in class debates. Maybe I will get that experience in the 2nd year. For now I’m happily cracking on with the workload from home in between keeping the family home ticking along and enjoying being a constant for my kids that I very nearly wasn’t when I hit rock bottom 3 years ago in November (it took me another 4 months to finally stop).
Life is so much more fulfilling without the need to keep apologising for awful behaviour.
Loads of love and thanks 😊

Serving myself as well as others.

My posts on fb from 9 years ago paint a picture of an exhausted, lonely new mum of 2 demanding children.


When I look back on those years it’s not much of a surprise that I found solace in a bottle. I had no real friends once I isolated myself by having kids fairly young and moving to the countryside. The bearded one carried on his life the same as he had before we’d had kids while my life just stopped. I love my children so much but I honestly don’t think I would have had them if I would have known how hard it was going to be for those first few years.


I’m glad I had them, but I wish I would have been able to enjoy them being small instead of being depressed and lonely, often resentful towards them.


The bond between me and the kids has become stronger than ever over the last 2 and a half years of not drinking. I have good solid friendships. I have things in my life that are just for me and are not focused around parenthood. I’ll finally be doing my Masters in September and building up a life that serves me, not just everyone around me.