Day 9. As I move a bit further away from the bad hangover moment, I have those thoughts where I wonder if I’m mad to be sober. I have to think carefully, and remember how awful I felt, not just then, but countless other times. Here on holiday, too, there have been many occasions in years past when I have felt or been ill after drinking, or shouted at people at parties, that sort of thing.
So, working on not drinking is good, and necessary. But today it feels hard, harder than yesterday. It is extraordinary how powerful the voice is – actually, not really a voice, more a picture, a picture of me drinking a glass of wine in a civilized fashion.
Last night, my Mum made mocktails for us all, a kind gesture as I know she’d have preferred wine. Our first celebratory holiday drink was therefore one in which I could fully participate, not feel on the edge. For me, on this holiday, it’s about working through the possible drinking moments, with thought and a degree of participation, not letting myself get into situations where I’m surrounded by drinks and with no plan.
I have to say, I’m feeling a bit low about it all today. Nine days of sobriety feels miserably tiny.