So Day 6, came around on a Friday. I’ve been dreading and also slightly excited about the weekend. An anticipation like the first day of school, would I survive? What activities would I do? Would a friend I was seeing on Friday night expect me to drink? How would I survive the trip to our cheese and wine shop with my hubby. As typing this I realise how terribly middle class I sound, but hey I’m fully trying to support independents.
Friday evening came round and my lovely friend turned up. We set up outside and I nervously asked her what she wanted to drink. I think the relief on my face must’ve been evident when she asked for a cup of tea, as she asked if I was ok. Taking a big gulp (unfortunately not of wine), I explained I was giving up
the devil alcohol for 100 days. Then I was amazed and relieved when she shared with me how she’d gone a year without alcohol in her 20s due to crippling anxiety. Isn’t nuts how when you start talking about it so many people have similar stories? Makes me feel more connected and less alone.
Saturday morning rolled round. After experiencing the best sleep I’ve had in several years, the hubster asked whether we were still going our favourite shop for essentials (he means the cheese and bread he’s not much of a drinker). I’ve been determined life isn’t going to change too much, well only in a positive way so agreed and off we went.
We arrive and I feel the devil on my shoulder whispering “get a bottle”. The lovely owner, who’s seen me sozzled a fair few times in their bar with my friends, lights up and informs me he has a lovely orange wine in. My favourite. My absolute favourite. I wrestle inside as the hubster pretends not to notice my plight and starts asking about the cheeses. To my amazement (and let’s face it the owners), I hear my voice saying no and asking for some bread. In a daze I pay for the cheese and bread and wander out the store. Which isn’t unusual, most the time I can’t remember leaving their establishment.
So now it’s Saturday eve, our date night in. It will be our first date night sober (excluding pregnancy). I’m once again nervous and excited. The hubster
is burning cooking up a feast, as I get ready upstairs and write on here. Wish me luck. One day at a time
ps photos attached of the lovely independent shop, aka my nemesis