Grateful

This morning, my children made us breakfast in bed, a rare event and particularly special as it was to celebrate our wedding anniversary. They got up early, crept downstairs and made banana muffins from scratch. Bringing the trays into our bedroom, full of good wishes for our anniversary, I was grateful to be sober. Because yes, my friends, I am on Day 2 and very relieved and happy to be here.

Last night’s party went well, and I felt fine on my tonic water (and glass after glass of fizzy water). It is never huge fun to watch everyone get slowly comatosed around you, but it was a well-timed reminder for me that drinking can make you drunk, and that being drunk looks pretty ridiculous when you’re not drunk. I liked the people at the dinner party, and I didn’t mind that they were drinking – they had every right to. I looked at it as a bit of a social experiment for me, and a chance for me to observe how people behave when they’re drinking. Chatting to my neighbours at the table, the conversation was interesting until about 10.30pm when I noticed a sudden drooping of the eyelids from the man next to me. Perhaps my story was dull, but he almost seemed to fall asleep, and from that moment on I knew I needed to go home. I managed to extract my husband, and the two other people I was driving, just before midnight.

At one point, the party chat turned towards the subject of drinking. Someone had read an article about how important it was to be easy on oneself and not to mind drinking half a bottle of wine a day, that it was more important to relax and not to feel guilty and that drinking was good for you in this respect. Momentarily, I mentally stumbled – was I a fool for putting myself through these sober challenges? But no: for some people, drinking every night might be their pathway to relaxation and contentment; for me, it was the route to misery and guilt.  So I carried on with my fizzy water and didn’t get involved in that particular conversation.

And this morning, clear-headed and grateful, I felt the sheer joy of my children’s kind breakfast gesture. I am glad to be here writing this today.