Again, a post early in the day, as I wanted to tell you about the dinner party last night. I had been worrying about it, as I thought my not drinking would be greeted with disappointment by the hosts. As I got ready for the party, I found myself playing the I think I’ll start drinking again game with myself, and with my husband. ‘Are you driving tonight?’ I asked him. ‘I thought you were driving,’ was his reply. ‘But what if I’d like to have a drink?’ ‘Is this dinner party the moment when you want to start drinking?’ he said. And so on. But as I was saying these things, I knew that the dinner party was not the moment in which I wanted to start drinking, indeed I began to think, a teeny tiny thought in the back of my mind, that I really didn’t want to drink. Didn’t want to!
Earlier this year, when I was doing my 60 day sober stretch, More to Me Than This suggested that I make an effort to look nice going to a party, and last night I found this really helped. I focused on what I was wearing, and tried not to think about the amount of fizzy water I’d be drinking. We arrived late to find the other guests on their second glass of fizz (not water) and I had some ginger beer which I’d brought with me. Ate about 1000 olives in a nervous fashion (drinking used to take up that olive eating time), then had a very nice dinner and tried hard to chat and be funny while everyone drank lots of red wine and seemed chattier and funnier than me. My husband was able to drink because I was driving and I realised that in our 17 years of marriage, I could count on one hand the times I’ve driven to a party; he had always been the driver. He seemed more relaxed and vocal than usual, though he later said that he’s always like that at parties (he’s not!).
So, it was fine. I was glad not to be drinking, particularly as I noticed that my host – a lovely lady – tucked into the white wine as though it was the last liquid on earth. It seemed pointless, but I know that’s what I would have done too, if I’d been drinking. And it struck me how much I probably drank at these events: much too much. But I also have to say that I felt a bit separate from the party, and as though I couldn’t quite relax and enjoy myself. I think the other people were disappointed that I didn’t seem to be my usual self, and I’m worried about that.
Back at home, I’m afraid to report that my husband breathed alcohol fumes on me and I could barely sleep. Yuck!