Afternoon, tis me, Mouse
Sorry not to read back properly or for being here....
Welcome to the new Babes, Smells (I want to call you something else, would Teeny be okay? I doubt you smell at all! 
) very and Space and hello again to LRD, Horse and Huey.
Here is my life from the last few years, in relation to drinking. It's a VERY long post and I hope that those of you who read it, will understand why I am posting it. It's not for sympathy, it's because I hope that some of you will find it helpful and will be able to relate to it, and if you want to, get to where I am today. So, here goes..................
The Past.
My background is one of self abuse from a very young age. Alcohol played a HUGE part in my life from the word go. My mother drank lots, my father too although he wasn't around long, he left when I was two and my sister newborn, due to a terrible condition he suffered from, where his cock would fall into other women.
My mother would go out and come home drunk, the baby sitter used to let me drink some of his lager and I loved feeling all 'grown up', knowing that I was allowed to stay up whilst my younger sister was in bed. Thinking about it now, makes me feel a bit sick actually.
Years later my mother remarried, (I was nine years old), and he's the most wonderful man I have ever had the pleasure of knowing. I adore him now but at the time, I struggled to accept him taking my mother away from me and my sister, I liked it being just us. Even though she'd had 'boyfriends' in the past.
I hated school, and as I moved through the years I had a few close friends but preferred to have male friends, as I always found girls too bitchy and snide. I hated the cliquey groups and back stabbing that went on. I'd often come home and sneak a small glass of alcohol from the drinks cabinet.
Fast forward a few more years. I always drank in work when I worked in bars and restaurants because you could then. It was allowed and of course, the norm. You could be bought a drink and not put your tip in the pot as such. The money was yours so I bought alcohol.
I used to drink vodka. I mean LOADS. I was the last to leave a party, the first to arrive with a drink or three already inside me. Men soon became a stronger focus in my life, drinking, drugs, sex, clubs, more drugs, I have or had such an 'addictive personality' apparently. 
My life became a cycle of being cheated on, hit, abused, lied to, finished with, picked up and dropped again and again and each time, the booze became the sticking plaster, it got stronger and stronger, it was the bandage that held me together.
Of course my drinking got gradually worse, the extent to which I would drink worsened each time 'something' happened. I used drink for everything. Period pains, shitty relationships, crap day at work, promotions, weddings, funerals, loss of life, new lives. Every day I had a reason to drink. And slowly, DrinkO'Clock became earlier and earlier too. I couldn't wait to get that bottle open. The sooner my day was done, in terms of having not to drive or be anywhere, anything to anyone.
I could function perfectly well with half a litre of vodka inside me, soon 70cl over the course of the day if I felt that way out.
I met DD's father, it was a short lived relationship, we were friends first who ended up having sex in reality. I got pregnant to my absolute horror and surprise. He decided he wanted nothing to do with me or the baby which was fine with me so we went our separate ways.
Before then, when it all got too much, I'd pack and run. Run as fast as I could as far as I could. New job, flat, life. I had such a low opinion of myself but little did I know just how much my behaviour was affecting my family. My parents. 
I'd tried to kill myself once. I cleaned my flat from top to bottom, unplugged all appliances, paid all my debts off, locked all of the doors, windows, not turned up for work and unplugged the phone, turned my mobile off. Finished all unfinished business. It was a rather loud cry for help as it turns out.
I really struggled not drinking and it took me weeks of weaning down gradually with the support of my GP at that point because of just how much I was consuming each day. But I wanted DD more than anything in my life. I'd never felt love like it even though I'd not even met her, I wanted her so very much as I'd be told I'd never have children easily due to my Endometriosis it would be near impossible without fertility treatment and even then there were no guarantees.
Life settled right down, I gave up my flat, got a full-time job (luckily the company employing me knew I was pregnant and that I would be leaving so gave me a temp role) and moved back in with my parents with their full support and love. Life was wonderful. I felt safe and wanted again for the first time since being around 14 years old, by that time I was 23.
Not long after DD was born, I met the most abuse man I have ever known. He did so much damage to me, to the person I had become since having DD. I've posted about him before, I've been a part of the 'We Believe You' rape campaign because of the things that happened, never mind putting DD through all of that.
After I got out of the relationship, that's when I started to use alcohol again to hide the shame, the guilt. The abuse and the terror that I felt. I was fragile and broken.
The silly thing is, that I have a million excuses as to why I drank like that, both before and after having DD.
My abusive past, Nemo being born with all of his Complex Special Needs even though DD was perfect when born, the guilt, the tangled feelings and emotions in my head spinning around as to why things had happened to me, DD being bullied at school and me not being able to 'be there', my own pain, my past relationships with men, my mother, my non existent natural father, myself, this bloody house was a fuck up from the start, the builders screwing us over, my marriage was in tatters because I blamed myself for Nemo not being as we'd expected him to be, regardless of extra scans and tests.
Everything was my fault and the ONLY thing that took the edge off, or softened the blow, soothed my soul was drinking until I couldn't rememberer anything.
When Nemo was in Neonates after being born, and we were told he had a life threatening heart condition as well as his other disabilities, I thought I'd turn to alcohol again. I didn't. I have no idea why, I just didn't want to.
The Mouse of old would have dived right in and blocked it all out, denied it had happened. You see the thing is, we'd had to fight bloody hard to get the house we're in (the builder selling it went bump the day after we'd exchanged contracts and demanded money we didn't have in place yet or was going to withdraw the sale even though we'd chose a school etc for DD.....)
Other things too, we'd say "well, this is happening because our baby will be healthy, it's our trade off with the Big Man upstairs" and the like. We always had a reason to justify why bad or seemingly unfair things happened to us. And the same could be said for the way I abused myself by using alcohol to stop hurting. To stop feeling anything. To numb myself to the outside world.
We'd waited so long to try again after the triplets died. I wasn't ready to risk it, DH was scared too, we were careful and looked after ourselves before trying to conceive. It happened at the first attempt whilst on holiday in Menorca! TMI
We'd treated ourself to a holiday, hoping that we'd conceive so it would be our last for a while. Little did we know just how long 'a while' would be but looking at the bigger picture, which I can now do, I'd trade a million holidays to keep Nemo in our lives. 
The first time I went back to the OldMouse, was after a shitty day with Nemo not keeping any feed down. His reflux was awful, he was fractious, crying the whole time in pain with his tummy, he wasn't sleeping and I was having to feed him by syringe every 1.5 - 2 hours.
I'd had enough so got twated. Once, twice, and then more often. Every day started to look like the last. Lots to drink, pass out and get up to Nemo when he needed me. Pissed 
I kept getting off my face and didn't give a shite. I was so scared of how angry I felt, how tired I was that I just didn't';t want to stop drinking until those feelings went away.
DH kind of went with it for a while, saw it as a blow out to the shitty hand we'd been dealt after hoping it wouldn't be the case and drank too but not to the extent that I did. Then one night I'd been sent to bed, yes, really, as I was so off my face. At the time Nemo was still in our bedroom (he stayed until he was 2.5!) and woke crying so I instinctively got up to him and went to get him when DH walked him taking him out of my arms.
I went fucking blue monkey nuts. I mean three shades of bat shit on his ass. I screamed at him to give me my son back. He told me to go to bed and took Nemo downstairs and refused to speak to me until I'd sobered up. Luckily, DD was out that night. Thank Jeff. I realised that I had come too close. Far too close to fucking up the most precious little boy in my life, our lives. I could have dropped him. Fallen with him in my arms, walked into anything and hit his head, I could have really hurt my own child.
I decided that it had to stop. I talked to DH about it who just laughed in my face sand said things like 'you're not an alcoholic, you're just tired, stressed out, under pressure etc, you need to sleep and get some rest is all. It's not like you drink at 9am in the park is it' he didn't support me at all. I wanted to stop drinking the way I was. I didn't like who I was becoming.
I'd posted on another thread, and I was gently guided here by venus and the rest as they say is history.
I started to post and I think the first words were 'Can I ask a serious question, how much is too much?' and the rest as they say is history.
I was met with huge support and welcomes but I didn't want to stop, I just wanted to stop drinking the way that I was. I wanted to cut down and knew that I could even though MIFLAW told me I'd never do it and that he's never met a successful alcoholic who'd gone from 90+ units a week to controlled drinking.
I thought he was so arrogant at first, who the hell was he or anyone else to tell me I had to STOP drinking? If I wanted to drink, I'd drink. I'm an adult FFS......
I put up a fight. I stopped posting for a while. I fucked up, got pissed. Posted drunk, lied to myself and the thread about how much I was drinking and acknowledged that some male poster who might be called MIFLAW, at that moment in my life, was right. Maybe!
I hit my face on the bathroom floor on holiday with DD's friend there and had to lie, about how it had happened, that was 2 years back. I lied about amounts I drank, when I drank, what I drank and then I started to read back over the first thread again. And finally, it all started to sink in. I mean really sink in.
I had to stop for good for that one day. Just that day. It nearly killed me to sit there watching DH drink his wine that night. But I was determined that I wasn't who I wanted to be when I drank so I had to take action. I had to chose to live my life, not just exist in a funky fugg of blurred emotions and softened edges. As hard as it was going to be, I had to get off the merry-go-round as I wasn't merry in the right sense of the word any more.
DH didn't want me to go to AA. He said I could stop alone but that I was over reacting anyway. I actually decided to go and speak with my GP in he end and he gave me some antidepressants and also something better for the pain in my back. He said he'd only help me with my back pain if I stopped binge drinking because of the affects the two would have on me and he was right. Of course. He monitored me closely, I had a LFT and it came back with reduced levels of Albumin and increased levels of AST/ALT which indicated alcohol abuse. My GP pulled no punches and told me to pack it in or else I would run the risk of liver disease and cirrhosis.
Taking note of other people's posts too. Really taking note and take a real interest. That was enough for me to stop doing what I was it was the top up from the night that DH had taken Nemo from me from me for my own good,
The Present.
Currently, I will have the odd glass of wine but it tends to be red as I know that white wine goes down far to easily for me. I drink it like water. So, that tends to be avoided. I like to have a pint with a packet of crisps with DH, DD and Nemo if we go for a weekend walk somewhere, just the one and that tends to lead to night in these days, years ago it was different, it would be two or more pints, DH would drive or we'd walk and he'd only have the one if at all. I'd always have to have that little bit more, that one last drink.
I'll have fizz or cava when we have date nights and maybe some red (125ml small wine glass that I bought!) with that too but I honestly cba most of the time. I hate getting pissed and feeling out of control. It scares me to think how much I used to love it. I hate not knowing or remembering what I'd done the night before too. I'm a control freak and not knowing what happened, when and why is just so alien to me now......
I hate being drunk and I hate others around me being drunk too now. My change in drinking has even lead DH to cut down and he never gets wasted with me now, only the odd night out or away with his mates which suits me just fine.
So now, it's what I fancy, but only a measured amount, for example, if I want a G&T, I'd get the ready made Gordon's in a tin so that it wasn't a home measure, we all know how much they are din't we ladies?
The Future.
One Day At A Time.
PS - thank you for reading if you got this far. Sorry for the typos, and I'm going out soon so not ignoring any replies.
Mouse xxxxxxx