Day 14 sober – Sunday stress

I’m not gonna lie, it’s been a tough weekend as far as sobriety is concerned. I feel like I’ve hardly slept and my fuzzy head is reminiscent of a hangover. This is not how it’s supposed to be! Foggy, anxious and tired. Bleurgh. I’m supposed to feel fresh and clean and full of energy!

The other half has been away since yesterday morning. I have avoided all invites (and all intincts) to party in his absence. I know he has been partying hard, however, and somehow this has taken me very close to pressing on that ‘fuck it’ button. I could drink alone, no-one would know…although hardly anyone knows I’m sober, so who cares except me?

I decided to make a beef stew and was contemplating buying red wine to cook with, and wondering if I could resist the urge to drink the rest. The shopping list started with ‘red wine’ and then promptly got changed to ‘red wine stock pots’. Stay strong. Breathe deep. I purchased pretend alcoholic beverages on my shopping trip in case the urge got too great over the course of the evening but they are still sat in the fridge.

Alcohol would normally fill the gap when the other half isn’t here. I don’t sleep well when I’m alone, hence the reason I feel so crap today. But, if I had succumbed to the drinking I’d likely feel a hel of a lot worse today. In ‘normal’ circumstances, I probably would’ve started drinking Saturday afternoon to fill the void, probably by myself, and probably more than a few glasses of wine.

I went to see my sister in York yesterday. I contemplated getting a drink for on the outbound train (1.30pm). My sister is pregnant so not drinking. I contemplated getting a drink at the train station before returning home, contemplated going to the pub with friends when I got back, contemplated buying tonic or lemonade to mix with the half opened bottle of vodka that sits in the wine rack and looks lonely. I woke up this morning contemplating a drink, contemplating going to the pub later, buying Guiness as it’s St Paddys day. I contemplated popping to the off licence for some bottles of strong cider, starting the day wrong. It’s only just 10am.

I think about alcohol a lot and it feels like a lot of effort to stay sober when I’m so tired. Kind of an oxymoron I know.

So, I am taking myself back to bed instead. I will meditate but I shall let myself drift off  if it happens that way. Hopefully I will have some thing else to think about when I wake instead of alcohol!!!

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Day 9 – Why I love Sober Mondays

When your boyfriend (or ‘partner’ maybe a better word – as we’re grown ups and not 12…) suggests that you have another sober stint, but then it gets to the weekend and he needs beer to watch the rugby… what do you do?

Do you fold and join in?

Do you get cross and agitated at the beer betrayal? (B*st$#d, we had a deal!)

OR, do you remind yourself that sobriety is an individual process and any vows should be taken to oneself, not as a commitment to others.

I chose no.3. I made no fuss over his choices. I reminded myself that alcohol would not enhance my watching of TV, but bought myself some non alcoholic beers in case I got any irritable alcohol  envy … and watched the rugby. I passed the first test.

I love waking up on a Monday morning feeling completely fresh. I feel a bit virtuous and smug, and love that I have had my self care at a maximum. Any rest has been proper rest. In contrast to the last time I had a sober stint, I was really looking forward to my first sober weekend, instead of dreading it. I knew what to expect and I welcomed it. Rather than viewing it as deprivation, I now see it as giving myself something back.

Monday went quick this week. I was in work early, meaning I get to leave early as I work flexi hours, and the whole day went pretty smooth. Cooked a healthy tea, went for a workout and genuinely feel this is how all weeks should begin.

By the time Tuesday comes around, instead of just feeling like I’m returning to normal after a heavy binge at the weekend, I am quite literally buzzing with energy.

The difference is remarkable, I just cannot quite workout why I’ve not chosen this as a lifestyle. Who wouldn’t chose this over the hedonistic party animal that takes half a week to recover?

Life in HD, or life in a big fuzzy whirlwind?

Time to fly without being high

Day 1 of sobriety – again.

I had a few drinks yesterday to clear the fridge, get rid of the booze and dull the hangover. I am therefore not waking on Day 1 with quite as clear a head as I would wish. I could’ve poured the drink away, or donated it to someone – but I opted to spend my Sunday afternoon slightly pissed watching films and hardly moving from the sofa.

I have recently been longing for that smug sober Sunday feeling, waking with a fresh head and a clear mind. I am looking forward to all those feelings that come with being sober. Will I find it hard to ditch the booze this time around? I don’t know. I’m kind of looking forward to being free of it at the moment.

I’ve started reading over all my blogs I wrote during the Sober Eighty challenge last year which is quite interesting. I am excited as to what the next 3 months have to bring.

Day 1 of 112.

 

Going out with a bang

We’ve decided to give up alcohol again (that’s me and the other half). Last year we challenged ourselves to give up alcohol for 80 days and I felt absolutely bloody amazing. The clarity and feeling of smug, cleanliness that comes with sobriety was eye opening. I lost a bit of weight, felt extremely productive, my skin was great – I felt (and looked) fresh and bright. I was rich (had spare money) for a while. I loved the 80 days so much that I almost committed myself to a life of sobriety… but, for whatever reason, I didn’t. I think I just wanted to be like everyone else for a while again. Fear of Missing Out. It took a while for alcohol to creep back into our lives but after some festive bingeing and seemingly lots of social events, it’s well and truly found it’s way back. Too many bad habits have returned and it’s slowly but surely impacting our lives, and not in a good way. There is a lethargy that comes with drinking, even just a small amount, and it’s not something we can afford or have room for in our lives. Also, we’re training really hard and alcohol totally affects the recovery process. It’s not wise to head to the pub after every run as a ‘reward’.

Needless to say, we don’t like to do things by halves and last night we had our last binge for a while, which included a very expensive bottle of champagne. What an oxymoron! Let’s celebrate our decision to be sober with a bottle of fizz!

I am writing this with a horrendous hangover. I feel sick, have a fuzzy head and have some vague recollection of talking complete shit to random strangers. I haven’t slept very well but the anxiety is too ferocious to be able to sleep the hangover away. It seems like a good point to be giving the booze up. I’m not sure if it’s for good this time or not but the other half has a 100 miler (run) in June – that’s 112 days away. So, for now, that’s my target. 112 days of sober. Doesn’t have quite the same ring as the Sober Eighty challenge but I’m viewing this as more of a lifestyle choice than a challenge.

Wish me luck.

I dreamed a dream

But what the f#$k does it mean?

I read something the other day about how to get started with creative writing and the article made a point about keeping a pen and paper at the side of your bed, as dreams can be a way of unlocking some ideas for creative writing. Not sure the other half would be best pleased at this (being woken in the middle of the night as I rush to pour all my thoughts on to paper), but thankfully my dreams are so vivid I can still remember them in the morning!!

Don’t get me wrong, as I’m sure this is a good idea for many, but since I stopped drinking (not completely sober but very rarely partake anymore) my dreams have become so wild and unfathomable that I’m not sure they even come into the realms of ‘creative’ anymore… more just really weird! I would love someone (a dream specialist) to sit down and attempt to interpret them.

There is lots going on in life at the moment, exams coming up, new job starts next month, training, the side hustle, the other half’s business.. so my already overactive mind is crazy busy, busy. This dream in particular though – truly Bizarre.

So, the dream begins in a portacabin (as all good dreams do). At the end of the cabin there is a hugely out of place expensive dark wood desk with a grandiose high-backed chair behind it (think Oval Office). The floor is a green carpet of fake grass. The desk is facing the doorway, which I am stood in, waiting. A man comes in behind me, I am expecting him, but nervous all the same. He is wearing a black suit, with a red spotted tie and carrying a brown briefcase. He says nothing as he brushes past but sits down in the chair and opens the briefcase on to the desk. The briefcase is empty. He opens the top drawer of the desk and silently pulls out a piece of orange card, about A5 size. He waves it in the air, then places it in the briefcase in a manner somewhat akin to a magician about to perform a magic trick. He snaps the briefcase shut and winds up the combination locks. He stands, and then he speaks,

“I will be gone some time. Until it’s all passed. And then I shall return. I will keep it safe.”

He stands and as he walks past me to leave, he stops and puts his hand on my shoulder,

“Watch out for the snake, for it grows bigger by the day. It will try to kill you all.”

And then he’s gone.

I run to the swimming pool where the snake is thrashing around in the water. It’s huge. There are other people there, who I don’t know, trying to control it with sticks and fishing nets.

“We need the Goblin!” someone shouts to me, and I rush off to find him.

The Goblin is actually Gollum from Lord of the Rings and (apparently) if he can manage to swallow the snake whole, it will be banished for good.

The snake is now so big it would be impossible to get your hands around it, but somehow it is drawn to the Goblin’s mouth. He sucks it all down whole but I am having a problem with where it’s actually gone as it would’ve filled the stomachs of 10 goblins, never mind one. The lack of scientific/logical explanation is baffling and bothering me. I need to know how it worked…where has the f$%kin snake gone?

Then my son Jack appears by my side, only he’s about 8 again. He holds my hand and tells me not to worry about it. “The snake has gone Mum. That’s all that matters.”

But we are now on a boat, and the waves are crashing over the side. We are struggling to stand straight as it rocks from side to side. There is water coming in everywhere and we need to get off. I grab Jack’s hand and we move to the edge of the deck. I need my backpack but am struggling to get my arms in. I need both arms in so it doesn’t fall off. The zip is open and I’m going to lose stuff out of it. I have to take it off again to zip it up. I check my purse is in there. My purse and my woolly gloves. I put it back on quickly. We are running out of time. Luck is on our side and we are getting closer to the shore. If we get the timing right we can jump off before it sinks. I take a deep breath, my spacial awareness is rubbish and I’m praying I get this right.

“Are you ready?” I shout to Jack, who has a hold of my hand again, he nods, smiling, seemingly unbothered by the trauma. “One, two, three…” and as we are ready to go for the biggest, most mammoth jump of our entire lives, the boat runs aground and we safely do a tiny hop onto the sandy beach below.

My brother appears behind us, after also jumping off the boat (and having lost several stone since last time I saw him). He is wearing skinny black jeans and his Doc Martins like he used to at 17/18. He grins at me, “it’s always easier than you think” he says, and then he runs off into the forest.

How on earth this dream could be the start of a creative writing piece, I’m not entirely sure. I don’t know who or what the snake represents and I’m not sure my brother has really run anywhere since PE at school, let alone into the forest. And the orange card? Who knows?

I lay awake for ages after, trying to analyse it, wondering what it all meant. Then I realised that half the message in the dream was to stop analysing everything.

The mind is a curious place, but my sober mind is even curioser. Screenshot_20181102-103350_Google

 

The Sober Eighty Challenge – Just the Tonic. Day 74 sober. Deal With It.

Don’t get me wrong, I love being sober. Right now I wouldn’t change it for the world, but there are times when the self-recognition hits you like a big wet fish slap around the face.
This is me.
Being sober makes shit more prominent – the good shit and the bad shit. The bad shit is having to accept the odd, the crap, the ugly sides of your own personality that you now have to sit with as you can no longer avoid them. You cannot drink away any insecurities, anxieties or oddities. You have to actually deal with them. There is nothing to hide behind, no pretence. Some days it’s just fucking raw.
This is me.
So, my daily morning routine consists of a cup of tea, breakfast and a little social media scrolling (I’m normally alone). Today I have woken up in an odd mood courtesy of my sober sleep which is now riddled with dreams and I am still processing. Then I see something in my FB notifications that makes me feel sick to the pit of my stomach.
….I’ve received an invite to an ‘event’ – a fitness and yoga workshop.
WTF??? Yes, this is me. Who else would find this a total trauma?
To most people this would be, you know, what a lovely way to spend a Saturday morning. I must obvs go hang with some babes for a couple of hours in my cool and trendy gym gear and get in a good workout and some good stretching… and….
To me: Literal Horror. Panic about who will be there, how many will be there. Panic about how to politely decline. Panic about whether there is an actual need to respond. Finally decide to respond and then panic over what I’ve written in said response. Too much to think about and it’s barely 6.30am. I can’t go ‘cos I’m busy so I don’t know why all the stress and at the end of the day basically no-one will give a shit anyway. Frustrated with self.
The problem is the instant reaction in my head: Have received invite to spend morning with big group of cliquey women and have to pay for the privilege. No way bitches.
*shudders
*pulls imaginary blanket over head
It’s always lovely to receive invites and I must say at this point – it’s not you, it’s me. And I don’t mean offence at the clique. Honest. What makes me think such horrible thoughts!!??
I am essentially an introvert. Most groups look like a clique to me. How it’s taken me 41 years to figure this out I’ll never know. You may have once seen me at the party of the century, hilariously pissed, dancing like there’s nobody watching (and hoping the next day that nobody actually was), spilling wine, falling over, losing shoes, coat, phone and/or handbag (delete as appropriate), partying like I am everyone’s friend and the life and soul. Social butterfly. I’ll talk shit to anyone when I’m drunk.
In real life, there are very few big groups that I ever want to hang out with, especially groups of women. I just don’t belong. I find small talk a huge waste of energy expenditure. Big groups of women make me feel uncomfortable.
This is me.
I have a lot to give, I’m just very selective about who I give it to. I’m also very selective about how.
Energy is my currency… I want to save it and spend it wisely.

There was a time I didn’t like being the odd one out, tried desperately hard to fit in. I believed life was a popularity contest and the more friends you had the more you were winning at life.
Needless to say this is probably why and where my relationship with alcohol began.
Nowadays I don’t feel the need to try to fit in so much. Why should I try to pretend to be someone I’m not? I’ll always be odd. Not antisocial, just…lets say… a little picky?

Embrace it.

I am better in small groups, with other odd friends (sorry, but if you’re my friend there’s a strong likelihood you are) and (after my little mini melt down this morning) I’ll get comfortable with that. The sober me is a little up and down, dealing with my shy, awkward, weird self but at the same time I’m regrouping, rediscovering, remembering, regrounding, reconnecting and that can never be a bad thing.
This is totally fucking me.

Arrested Development

Just the Tonic – Sober Eighty Challenge

In amongst all my alcohol reading and research (I forgot how much I love books), I have read on a few occasions this notion that alcohol stunts your emotional growth.

 “because there is a rule of thumb in psychotherapy, that whatever age you start “using” is the emotional age at which you’re stuck. So, if you first used alcohol, drugs, gambling, sex or whatever it is that you discovered made you instantly “feel better” at age 14, then you will be stuck with the capacity of a 14-year old to deal with difficult emotions.” Charlotte Stapf

Lit. Yaaasss. Psych. [Insert Sarcasm emoji]. FFS, does that mean I have to go through puberty again (late developer)???

So, now I am peeling back the layers of the sober Nicky onion, I have discovered that I’m a peri-menopausal woman with the emotional capacity of a 15-year old! Well, not quite, but there is some truth in it. I have pretty much been drunk since the age of 15. Not 24-7 of course, but I have travelled along that alcoholic roller coaster which involves getting drunk, recovering, drinking some more, recovering a little more and then back to the drinking again. Sometimes vowing never to drink again. Sometimes longer spells between drinking. Sometimes drinking nearly every day (student life gave me the best excuse to drink daily, at any time of day and for peanuts. I was constantly pissed for about a year and a half before I left Uni – another story). Week in, week out. Year by year.

For 26 years.

Not an alcoholic, of course, but I will say that moderation is not a word in my alcohol vocabulary. I have managed dry January several times now (mostly to give my body a break and convince myself I am absolutely not an alcoholic and I don’t have a drinking problem) and I once gave up alcohol for a short period of time after leaving Uni, as I recognised it as a catalyst to the deep depression I was in. I can manage without. I can go days through the week without having a drink (about 3 or 4 as a rule). Just the rest of the time I choose to use it to manage.

On the flip side to periods of sobriety, I have had drinking binges that have thrown me into the other side of oblivion. Catatonic. Nights where I could barely walk and talk. I have fallen over, blacked out, ended up in places I shouldn’t have, put my life at risk with strangers. I have woken with UDI’s, lost my memory (and my purse), made a fool of myself, and felt huge ‘hang your head’ shame. I have been in such an emotional drunk state, I have sat hugging my knees sobbing, deep, gut-wrenching sobs, rocking, feeling helpless, dismayed at the shadow of a person I had become and searching desperately for the person I had left behind.

I have been so hungover that I have been unable to move, or to eat. So hungover that I felt like my face had shrunk and my lips went all weird and tight when I talked. I have lost feeling in my little finger (on several occasions), not been able to hear properly (I have no idea why or how that happened) and suffered the worst anxiety of my entire life.

I think to a certain degree I have been a lot steadier with my consumption as I have got older, but this is in comparison to the above. This might also be a little bit more to do with the fact that we go #outout a lot less. But, on reflection, at an average of 50 units a week on a ‘steady’ week (easier done than you think), I was still drinking too much.

I recognise now that I have used alcohol to self-medicate for many years. Originally, I “used” alcohol to try and be fun and fit in. At 15 I was gawky, gangly tall, flat chested, ginger and shy – all the best qualities for a teenage girl. Alcohol gave me a little confidence boost, made me feel a little wild. It helped me party with the cool kids. I soon learnt that it was also a good way to forget; to numb the pain of a childhood trauma; to erase the emotional scars, to anesthetise the worry and the anxiety, and I’ve been that way ever since. When times are tough, stressful or I have experienced any kind of emotions that I have struggled to get to grips with (and not just the negative ones, there are others I wrestle with too) – alcohol has been my “friend”.

Tough day at work? Hit the bottle.

Feeling a little anxious/insecure/nervous/tired/upset/confused/worried/lonely/depressed? Hit the bottle.

Fight with the boyfriend? Hit several bottles…. You get the picture.

The coping mechanism only works for a while. You can numb the feelings temporarily, living in a little alcohol induced bubble for a while, but the problems don’t disappear, and the emotions are still there when you wake up, only with a foggy mind and a fuzzy head you are even less able to deal with them and they seem ten times worse. It may be a cliché but it’s also a fact.

Some may call my sobriety a bit of a mid-life crisis, as I reassess and try to work it all out. I have been very contemplative since I decided to go sober and I feel that I need to revisit some of the things I used to love doing as a child, to see if they still make me tick and to find out what truly makes my soul happy.  Alcohol replaced time (drinking takes away a lot of time) and time that used to be spent doing the things I loved.

It feels a little strange to be facing the world in its true and raw form daily. When you have anesthetised yourself for so long, you forget you were numbing the good parts at the same time too. Sobriety is bringing with it a strange wide-eyed euphoria, a natural high that no drug can provide. I am finding joy and beauty in the smallest of things and my inner childish hippy is thriving. And we’re only on Day 12.

I am a little nervous but excited about this new Chapter in life, as I learn how to live sober.

Day 10 Sober – Just the Tonic

So I am now on Day 10 of the Sober Eighty challenge and I thought I’d keep you up to speed with progress. I was hoping I’d have some amusing anecdotes or stories to share. Nope. Sorry. Life has been pretty normal. Nothing of interest to really report. I had a couple of pangs for alcohol over the weekend, but they soon disappeared.

I have drunk a non-alcoholic beer

I saved a bit of money.. but spent it on new shoes and clothes

I am sleeping better (sort of as it’s too hot to sleep properly)

I lost just over 1lb in weight

My eyes and skin look brighter

I feel alive and have heaps of energy. I’m getting shit done. With a clear head.

10 days sober

We haven’t encountered our first proper social experience sober yet though and I have heard stories about peer pressure from other people in the challenge group. I mean why on earth would you want to be sober? This view that somehow you’re depriving yourself and “missing out” because you’re not drinking. “It’s a bad time of year to give up, what with the football and the nice weather with everyone sat in beer gardens”..erm why do I need to drink to watch football? Is it really going to enhance the game?? And if I want to enjoy the sunshine, I may go walking, running or get my bike out. And if we really fancy some pub culture, we are more than capable of sitting in a beer garden with an alcohol free product to imbibe! But thank you for your support.

I’m currently reading a lot about alcohol and therefore understanding more completely what it does to our bodies and brains. Now I’m worried if people ask why I’m sober it’s going to be a rather preachy answer.. “because …

alcohol is an addictive toxin packaged into attractive bottles, marketed with billions of dollars/(pounds) of advertising and so deeply ingrained in
popular culture that we can no longer see it for what it really is.” Craig Beck
Yeah that. And that’s just the opening statement.
I don’t want to get preachy. But in the same breath, if someone were telling you they were giving up smoking, you wouldn’t try and force them to have a fag.
But drinking isn’t as bad for you as smoking…
Isn’t it?
Remember the days when smoking adverts were full of cool, trendy, hyp people. Then the adverts eventually got banned, then the warnings appeared on the packets, then it got banned in public places…
Not saying alcohol will be banned in public places (god forbid) but I think there’s a reason we are not regularly given all the facts and that it doesnt come with a warning label. Do you know how many people die of alcohol related disease each year?
But it’s so cool to drink…the gin culture, the prosecco ladies, the cool beer/cider ads. The ingrained belief that we need alcohol to have a good time… we’ve all been brainwashed.
And I was too. For 26 years in my own head believing I needed alcohol to be fun, to have a good time, to make me more interesting, to burst the shy bubble.
Except now I am rebelling against the norm and I think [newsflash] that I am possibly more interesting without a drink than with. And the more I read, the less I feel I want to drink again, like ever.
Now I’m starting to feel like I want to be a part of the Sober Evolution. Do you know there are people organising really cool sober events. Parties. Here, in the UK. People reportedly even have fun at them.
So how’s my challenge going? Not how I expected. I realise now my biggest hurdle has nothing to do with dependancy or addiction, it has to do with society. How other people react to my sobriety.
#sorrynotsorry
If you have issue with my abstinence it says a lot more about you than it does me.
So yes, 10 days in and I’m feeling quite preachy, a little defensive but also rock solid and very, very positive.

SOBER EIGHTY (SOBRIETY) CHALLENGE – “JUST THE TONIC”

Could you stay sober for 80 days?

Most people [I know] will answer this question with a “NO”. I mean, why would you want to? Alcohol is part of life, right?

I wonder if it’s to do with the circles I mix in, or that British social culture seems to revolve around alcohol – beer gardens, cocktail bars, clubs and pubs? We are a nation of Sober Shamers and Alcohol Pushers (myself known to be one of them) and I know very few people who don’t drink at all.

Unless you’re pregnant (“you can still have the odd one, surely…?”) or driving… or maybe allergic or something… then why on Earth would you decide to stay sober?

You’re going to have to have a really, really, good reason. 

So, why am I going Sober for 80 days?

I was going to try and hide behind the whole fitness thing – like, I’m in serious training for an off-road marathon and I want to lose weight, so I can run faster, especially up hills. Whilst this is true, and I think that drinking alcohol does not allow me to reach my full fitness potential, and I am training for a marathon (and curious to see if sobriety makes any difference to my performance), this is not the main reason I am doing this.

Then, I thought I could say I want to abstain for a while because of mental health issues – it exacerbates my anxiety and can make me feel a bit down for a few days after a big session. This is all also true, however not the main reason.

OR, maybe I could drop the truth bomb and say that I have started to feel uncomfortable with my dependency on alcohol.

Am I an alcoholic? No.

Do I feel the need to drink more nights of the week than I don’t? Yes.

Do I struggle with moderation? Yes. I am an “all or nothing” girl. I try to be moderate. Sometimes it works, sometimes I’m drunk.

Can I go long spells without alcohol? Only if it’s dry January, everyone else is doing it, no-one goes out anyway and there is no fear of missing out. Fake sober = no problem.

Have I had a recent, horrendous experience with alcohol creating a knee jerk, “I’m never drinking again” reaction? No….

But… over the years there is an accumulation of secret drinking, pre-drinking, binge drinking, drinking left over wine from the night before whilst cooking breakfast (OK, only on very rare occasions, but still..). There is the obsession with how much I’m drinking, or not drinking, if I’m drinking too fast, can I get to the wine first before someone else finishes the bottle. Quick, fill your glass up. Don’t get too drunk tonight.. OOPS *falls over *falls asleep *falls out of love with self ~ drinks more to get through the guilt. Shopping…when can we get to the pub? Sight-seeing.. when can we get to the pub?  Where is all the alcohol at this party? Then, there’s the blackouts, doing stupid things, saying stupid things, falling over, UDI’s, arguments, deep depression, a rocking sadness. Despair. Shame.

These have all made me question my relationship with alcohol.

OK, so most of these things don’t happen on a regular basis and many of them not for a long time now. I would even go so far to say my current alcohol consumption is pretty average, and with some of the people I know, it’s actually way below par.

Just, for some reason, I’m not comfortable with it being “the norm” anymore.

Maybe, I just got sober curious.

Maybe, I just want to fly without being “high”

Maybe, I want to view the world with a little clarity for a while.

Maybe, I feel the need to rebel against the societal norms.Blog pic

Maybe, (a little bit deep this one) I want to rediscover the person I was before I started to hide behind alcohol, but the grown-up version.

At the end of the day there is a bigger question here, which is why do I feel the need to explain myself? Can I not just be sober and that be an OK thing to do?

Will my sobriety offend you? And if so, why?

Food for thought.

So, the challenge starts on Monday 2nd July – DAY ONE, which takes us to 19th September as DAY EIGHTY.

My average weekly consumption when staying in = around 6 bottles cider and 2-3 bottles of wine over the course of Thurs – Sunday.

PER WEEK that’s going to be a saving of;

£30-£40

50 UNITS (that is the part that shocked me the most – strong cider!)

and about 3,500 calories. 

I will be documenting the highs and lows of being SOBERCHIC here on the Brightside blog and will be setting up a private Facebook group – if required – for a bit of moral support, so let me know if you care to join me on my mission to becoming SOBER AF.

#soberisthenewblack #sobriety #soberchic #justthetonic #eightydayathlete #sobereightychallenge