Category Archives: good habits

One day shy of 9 months sober

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Wow. Time is flying. I thought it was eight months sober but it’s almost nine months now. Still going strong. Still grateful everyday for not drinking. I didn’t expect an easy ride but I thought that instead of drinking that I’d be losing weight. That hasn’t happened. Not too concerned really if I’m honest. Better that than drinking.

On the plus side I have gotten my sleep patterns back to normal. It takes less time to fall asleep than in the first few sober months, and I am making an effort to consistently get to bed before midnight.

Another plus, I have got back my love of drawing again. I am making effort to add this to my life on a daily basis. So good to have this back in my life. My creativity is resurfacing and I am running with it.

Yet another plus, the recycling rubbish and regular rubbish is not mounting up as it did when we were drinking. Not only do we have less rubbish, we buy less junk food, eat out less and so are saving money. What a bonus. Creative pursuits are generally mind work so they don’t require huge sums of money. So I wonder again why I didn’t give up drinking sooner. The stingy side of me is jumping up and down with joy. My sober side is joining in. I am just one big bundle of joy.

Housework has not been a priority. Self care has been. Dust and clutter is around me. I can look at it and not have feelings of shame or guilt. That is a huge step for me. I want to be tidier and have a clean house one day. Sleep and self care have been a priority. Slowly I am adding things to do for routines that hopefully will be automatic in the future.

I have asked for help and am getting the lawns mowed on a regular basis. That has been money well spent. Seems like such a small thing but it makes me feel lighter.

Next in the help pile is to get someone in to help clean on a regular basis. I just need to get over the embarrassment of the state of things now and admit this is where it is and what needs getting done. I have had the name and phone number of someone for four months and had planned on getting the house into a better state before the cleaner came. Stupid I know. Vanity appears in ridiculous moments.

I haven’t been writing much here because I have been finding my feet, and getting on with life. I find myself walking in the right direction.

One thing I find difficult is finding places to go where alcohol is not the main focus. I am trying to find nice places where I can go out and be comfortable and sit and drink tea or coffee and indulge in something sweet. A sober treat outing so to speak. I am a great booth sitter. Nothing like a booth to be comfortable. That is one of my quests this year – to find date spots. Home is the best place to sit and drink tea or coffee, talk, read a good book. I am thinking outside the box and parks and picnics seem like a great idea. Only it’s winter now and and not the greatest plan for wet weather. Again, lighting the fire and enjoying the ambiance is a start, at home.

Staying put without travelling, becoming a better version of myself is just what I need to work on now. Looking forward to having a year under my belt before I breathe a sigh of relief.

My sober treat is a waterproof Kindle. I can now read in the bath without having to worry if I drop the device in the water. I don’t have to read paperbacks carefully without wet hands, the Kindle will be so much easier. We’ll see how we go.

Learning to pace myself

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In the past and even now I tend to get enthusiastic about something, I live, breathe and sleep whatever it may be. The enthusiasm lasts for a while, a good while and then fizzles out. Gone.

It’s all about the pace. You cannot sprint a marathon. That’s commonsense. Yet why do I always try to sprint when I should be jogging. These running analogies aren’t working for me. I used to do cross country running. Now I detest anything above a walk. So what else can I use? Jog one lamp post, sprint one lamp post. Stop it.

Okay let’s try music. Tempo. Don’t know the words to describe it but here goes. No. scrap that.

I try to immerse myself in the lust of choice. I suck it dry. I spit it out, I get sick of myself. I walk away. Immersion is a good thing with language learning for example. But not with everything.

Longevity and good pace is what I am trying to add to my kit. Continuity should be there too. They are all linked.

Staying up till 6am engrossed is a wonderful thing. The sun comes up and you are still awake from the day before. Once in a while is fine. But it is unsustainable long term. You cannot tell which way is up. It doesn’t end well.

Pacing myself, being consistent, longevity these things are elusive. These are not linked with addiction, are they? This is a whole new me emerging.

Being sober feels like I am giving myself another chance in life.

I am just a girl standing in front of a mirror, telling myself I love you.

Or should that be “I love me?”

A side note: My recycle bin never gets full now. It is quite shocking how empty it is each week. No more bottles. No cardboard pizza boxes. Only the odd pizza now and then. The absence of bottles is noticeable by the lack of recycling. Calculating the money I am saving and it is breathtaking.

BONUS: Being sober=less recycling bin pushing+saving money

Digital Detox & Chocolate

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In May I attempted a Digital Detox. I tried to be too strict with myself and that backfired. I ended up not bothering in the end. I haven’t given up completely but will try again at a later date.

Does my digital side help with my life? Absolutely.

Do I spend too much time on the Internet? Absolutely.

Could I cut back on my digital side? Absolutely.

I did unsubscribe to many mailing lists. I removed many notifications from my phone. I restricted myself to less digital time. I had planned to use the computer to teach myself new software myself but with all the other restrictions I decided to self sabotage and didn’t bother at all.

A gentler route is in order and I am attempting a Lite Version of Digital Detox. Today I began to learn how to use software better. Progress. I am balancing my Digital with my Paper-based side. I began a Bullet Journal. It’s more of Self Discovery/Sketch Journal.

I seem to have substituted alcohol with copious amounts of chocolate. There is none in the house because I ate it all yesterday. Today I didn’t eat chocolate because it wasn’t handy. I didn’t make a trip to the supermarket and so there is no chocolate in the house. I do know now, correction, I always knew that if I bought a week’s worth of chocolate that it would be gone in two days. The addictive side of me is very methodical. If it’s there, it must be consumed mentality. I had roasted cauliflower for dinner. From one extreme to the other.

Self Care: Homemade Facial Mask and a Bath
Green tea and yoghurt

Facing Forward

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Facing or confronting something is more difficult than turning away. It requires effort and dealing with whatever it may be. The thought of facing something can make whatever it is into a mountain when in fact it was a wrinkle in a sheet. Shadows play tricks on us and the devil on our shoulder is whispering come away with me, don’t climb the mountain, what’s one more day?

If we faced the mountain and walked towards it we would realise that it wasn’t so big after all. The weight off our shoulders would have made it worth the effort.

Not facing something takes more effort and occupies more space in your mind than if you faced whatever it is. So why do we insist on looking away or elsewhere, anywhere but forward facing the issue? Why do we do this to ourselves? Because it’s hard? It’s much harder to avoid than to face. Avoidance is quite a complicated dance. It’s like juggling while balancing on one foot on top of a chair. It involves lots of pieces and trying to figure out how not to lose the rhythm so you or the balls don’t fall on the floor. What would be wrong about you and the balls being on the floor anyway? You can rest.

Which is it? Difficult or easy? One moment you say facing something is difficult then you say not facing something is effortful. Which is it? It is what we make it. Huh?

We make decisions for ourselves. Sometimes we know we are making the wrong one and we go ahead regardless. A conscious decision, a decision we know to be wrong yet we willfully proceed. Why? It’s the path of least resistance.

Okay. I get that. That might be true. So why do we do it to ourselves? It’s easier not to.

Doing nothing sometimes is better than doing the wrong thing. Not always but sometimes true. However what I am talking about here is personal growth. The more things we face the more we grow as a person. And with these experiences we learn and we gain wisdom. Our lives become more fulfilled and we seek out more to enrich our lives.

*I wrote the above post earlier, like a couple of months ago and saved it. Publishing today.

I am past my 7 month sober mark and feeling good that I am. Before this journey started the sober part of it seemed like the finish line but in fact it was the just the start line. Being sober is the easy part, the knowing what to do with the time while being sober is the challenge. How do we proceed in life now that we have our life before us with the truth bared raw. I like myself better sober. Still finding my feet. Shuffling in the right direction. Still eat a lot to compensate, stay up late, and do very little exercise. But I am absolutely fine with it. I can honestly say I feel real peace on the good days.

Facing forward and leaning into the wind.

The Joy of being Sober

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The Unexpected Joy of being Sober by Catherine Gray

I remember getting it out of the library a couple of years ago. Why do I remember it if I didn’t read it. The cover. A bird flying away from an open cage. I wasn’t ready to be sober then. I requested the book about 4 months ago again. The queue was long. It’s my turn to read it. And I am loving it. It is exactly what I need to read now. I am two weeks shy of being sober 6 months. I know I said I didn’t count the days. I don’t on a daily basis. I’m lucky enough not to need to do it. But 6 months is a milestone. And Catherine Gray’s book is right on schedule to read now. And talk about a popular book. That alone should tell you of the numbers of people wishing to quit drinking and becoming sober. A good thing. Being sober truly is a joy.

Far from finished but I am so enjoying her book. My theme for this year, 2019, for me is care. She mentioned that when we are drunk or thinking about the next drink we are not taking care of ourselves or those around us, our lives or our homes. Admittedly I looked after my cats better than I did myself. Catherine mentions to treat yourself like a toddler. To care for myself, is like relearning all over again. My self care routine was nonexistent. I am learning to be kind to myself. I have quietened the boozy angry bitchy evil voice, the one that treated me worse than an enemy would. I listen to my inner voice now, the kind one, the gentle one, the compassionate one. She is teaching me to be kind to myself again.

Compassion starts at home and is an active daily practice. It is not on a to do list and ticked off, it is something to be repeated and done every day. It doesn’t end. It is a regular action done daily. It is a habit. A good one. Self compassion or self love is a necessary act for one to feel whole. When this practice of self compassion becomes natural and regular then the compassion of/for others flows naturally. Let’s make it contagious.

I love being sober. I do not want to try to be a moderate drinker. I don’t want to drink again. I don’t need it. I don’t want it. Alcohol was a shackle not a crutch said Catherine Gray.

Long thin blue ones

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If you are tired of reading about finger nails stop right now, if however you are intrigued by my overenthusiastic reaction then read on…

Stopping alcohol has opened up a brand new world for me. Anxiety and stress dropped away. There was no more wondering am I drinking too much, if I have another one will anyone notice? Or I’ll stock up on wine this week because it’s on special knowing full well that the stock wouldn’t last the weekend. There is none of this thought to clutter the mind today. All that tiring thinking about the next drink, the next happy hour, the next occasion, is all gone. It is not missed at all. And I worried that it really would have been. How wrong I was.

I no longer spend all this time thinking about alcohol and then next glass. I no longer spend my money on this obsession. I no longer spend money on the food and transportation that goes with said drinks. Because there is no remorse on what was said the night before, there is no hangover, there is no forgotten gap in the previous evening. All is remembered. There is no worry about how am I getting home, I can drive myself. The anxiety and stress has been fleeing my body and the upside is enormous.

The upside of sober life is long nails. Here she goes again. I know. And I don’t apologise for it either. Long nails for me represents lost anxiety, hidden self confidence that has finally reared its head. Long nails are a symbol of strength for me. Now if you are imagining those nails which are inches and inches long that is not me or what I am talking about. If you imagined bitten nails, erase that and bite and chew more off and the surrounding skin. Gross. Embarrassing. That was me. I was carrying around with me the visable armour of the defeated, the downtrodden. I hid my hands whenever possible. I would always ball my hands into a fist so my nails were hidden. I couldn’t partake in conversations because I wasn’t privy to the ins and outs of the nail world. I was stuck behind anxiety and low self esteem. Now my nails are not the inches and inches long that you imagined, but they are an ordinary length. They blend in with the crowd now. For that I grateful. I am part of the painted nails brigade and I like it. I have missed out on this frivolousness until now and I intend to make up for lost time and have fun with it. I really do. I don’t even know how to file my nails properly. Youtube will be handy. I have ordered nail paraphernalia to look after them well.

Each time I change my nail colour, file, buff, paint or moisturise my nails I will be practising gratitude for the courage that I had to stop drinking. For others it may not be much at all, but for me it is huge. A leap in the right direction. Life is made up of little moments and now I will be spending my time thinking of what shade next.

This follows along with my theme for this year: Care. Part of my routine now involves the care of my finger and toe nails. Oh what fun we will have!

Today’s sober treat: a long hot soak in the bath tub with Epsom salts and a book.

5am revisited

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My body thinks that 5am means going to bed at 5am.
Getting up at 5am isn’t going to happen for me. I give up for now.

Insomnia is still with me. Hard physical work, long Epsom salt baths, lavender tea, going to bed early just isn’t working.

I am just going to roll with the hours and see where it takes me. Sleep when my body says sleep. Not because it’s the norm. This morning it was almost 5am that I got to sleep. It wasn’t for the love of trying.

I give up. I surrender. Sleep: do your worst. I will follow your lead.

In the garden

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This is where I have been for the last while.

Feeling the earth.

Getting dirty.

Feeling the wind.

Sweating.

Moving my body.

Improving the garden.

Drinking lots of water.

Listening to and observing the insects and birds

My pace is slower than I had hoped but I’m okay with it.

Enjoying evening baths.


5am

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I got watching a YouTuber and how they are now getting up every morning at 5am. I thought YES. I can try this too. Insomnia is with me and if I can shake her off smartly I can start a new habit.

I set my alarm for 5am. I got to bed at 1am. My reminder to go to bed did go off at 9:30pm. I ignored it. I lay in bed willing sleep to come. I tried relaxing all parts of my body one by one. Nothing seemed to help. My phone was charging in the hall. So one good thing was no electronic device in the bedroom. Sleep didn’t really come to me. I tried for an hour. I decided to get up. Yes. Really. I decided that I was going to kickstart my new habit. I got up as if it were morning.

I had a bath and read a book, Between the World and Me. Couldn’t put it down. Such a good book. Put my book away. Washed my hair and got ready for my new day. I had breakfast and ate mindfully. I then went and sat down at my desk and wrote my three pages, my morning pages.

It still wasn’t 5am yet. It was dark outside and I had completed three tasks already. I felt almost at a loss of what to do next. I am never up this early. One thing the woman from YouTube said was to ask yourself why you are wanting to get up early. And not to hit the snooze button when the alarm goes off. Get up immediately.

I was already up.

Managed to snooze for 2 hours during the day but found it hard staying up all day. Day one of the 5am starts wasn’t that successful. Yes I was up. Yes I started my day earlier but it was all such a shock to my system.

Day 2 of trying my 5am starts. Had a cat visit to the vet that day so it was stressful. Vaccinations. Played hide under the bed for 10 minutes. One didn’t want to get into the cage. One didn’t want to get out. Went to bed by 10pm. I was exhausted. All good. Changed my clock to a 6am wake up. Woke up at 3am. Turned my alarm off. Slept for another 8 hours. Attempt 2 at 5am starts was a disaster. Effort 0/10. Sleep 10/10 A win against insomnia.

Haven’t given up. Will try again tonight to get an earlier night.

Do I have my head around this idea properly yet? I wonder if I really do.

Why am I trying to get up early? I want to be more active. I want to start the day better. I want to enjoy the peace and quiet of the morning. I want to eat breakfast leisurely. I want to write during the quiet time. I want to be awake to enjoy the sun rise.

Are these my hands I see before me?

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I swear I am not making this up. I really do wonder whose hands I have before me. These fingers with long nails and now nail polish. They really look so foreign to me. The nails are strong and longer than they have ever been. The nail polish on, bright and show-offy. Look at me. Yes. Look at me. Again. And again. They are really me. They are mine.

The hand moves up to my face and rests on my cheek. Waiting for a comment. A compliment. Compliments have been given already the day before. The newness of it all is wearing thin on others but for me I am shamelessly hinting and encouraging more.

I am like a 5 year-old with new school shoes, marching round the house in front of everyone and around and around until I am dizzy.

Will this novelty ever get old? The joy of long nails. I don’t think it will get old. I think this will spark joy for me for a very long time. After all, I have waited for this for 50 years. I can even tap my fingers on my computer and make a noise with my nails. Yes. An annoying sound but it is a noise just the same. I have never been able to make this sound before. I can now open cans with a pull ring by myself. I no longer need a knife to lever the tab up. Scratching my head sounds different too. Fascinating.

Seems such a frivolous thing to be so excited about but it so much more than long nails. Anxiety is melting away. Really has anyone else experienced long nails after stopping drinking? I mean that is the only thing that has changed.

Day 85 sober. I am almost at the three month mark. It is rolling around so quickly. How does it make me feel? Best decision ever. This decision to be sober. Wouldn’t go back to drinking. I say that now but earlier this evening I heard a new piece of music and I thought this would be good with a glass of wine. I didn’t follow up with getting a glass or anything. The thought floated up. I voiced my thought. And then it was gone. There was no desire to drink. It was a random thought. An old thought of mixing music and wine.

Insomnia is still with me. It is 3:36am and I am still awake. The rain patters on the roof. The crickets chirp in the night. The cats sleep sprawled out on the couch floating in a deep sleep. For now summer and insomnia are linking hands and running away through the fields. I don’t mind too much. The evenings are pleasant and I enjoy the stillness and the coolness after the hot sun of the day. When autumn comes I hope insomnia will be tired of playing with me and wander off and disturb some poor unsuspecting soul. I think my turn is almost up. I cannot be too greedy with insomnia’s time. She should share her talents with someone else. Like I said her bags are packed by the door. But she is too busy laughing and enjoying the moment. Patience. It is all I can ask for.

Did you see my nails? Yes, they are long, aren’t they. Yes. They’re my own. Yes. It’s a lovely shade. Shameless Red, maybe? I have no idea what it’s called. Did you say something? I was just gazing at my nails. Sorry? What?