Very belated happy birthday, Baby.
Spanna, love to you and hugs. You're doing brilliantly. Yup, I know totally where you're coming from on the 'life is boring without booze' front. Feels like heresy to say it when we're all working so hard at not drinking/cutting down, but there are times when I have So Much Time on my hands as a result of Not Being Drunk, and I just can't be bothered to find constructive stuff to fill it with, so just end up going to bed at 9pm because I am downright bored and grumpy and cross with myself for not having more imagination about what to do instead. And if anyone tells me to have a nice bubble bath I might scream (no offence to the well meant suggestion). And it all feels quite virtuous and samey. And I want the highs and even the lows, and the feeling of extremes and the release and relief and exhilaration and sheer bloody gorgeous taste of that first and second glass of wine.
But...I don't want the second bottle that inevitably follows, predictable as night follows day. And so I trundle on, and it becomes day 147, and I am amazed and profoundly grateful beyond measure to all of you who have carried me this far, and yes, I am often still a bit bored around the edges. But - the reduced mood swings, the 'being present' for the kids, the absence of shame, the not sneaking wine into coffee cups to see me through the day, the money in the bank not frittered on booze, the better concentration at work, the sober sex (ok, maybe not that one!), the relief of having a clear head in the morning, the not pickling my liver irrevocably, the sense of pure calm I occasionally catch myself feeling around the edges, and the moments of clarity and genuine pleasure in the here and now - those are all things which I think, and hope, and on a good day even believe, outweigh the boredom and the tedium of the same old sober routine. And sometimes, like last night, I have a night out with clever, good, proper friends, and I keep up with the conversation and debate and I give as good as I get because I'm not half pissed before I even arrive, and I feel alive and zingy and joyous with the novelty of it all - those are good times, and those are worth every minute of the more monotonous parts of sobriety. And I remind myself that actually, being pissed the whole time was bloody monotonous and predictable too.
So hang in there lovely Spanna, dance free and wild at your festival, and I so much want all those lovely, good, quiet, honest feelings for you too. They're not things we'll ever shout from the rooftops about, they're not exciting or glamorous or enticing or sexy, but they are real and true and enduring. Most of all, I think, sobriety gives us ourselves back. Sometimes we don't much like that and sometimes we're frustrated by it and want to escape the inevitability of facing up to who we are. For me at least, its still a work in progress getting to know myself again, but I am (mostly) quite enjoying the ride.
Blimey, sorry - I only popped on to give you a hug, Spanna. Apologies! Hope some of this stream of consciousness ramble makes some sense somewhere and if not, just give me a pat on the head and put it down to half term hysteria.