This week’s guest blog is from Leonie, one of the featured stars from Hello Sunday Morning’s ‘The Talk We Needed’ Campaign.It’s life changing when I see how different I am as a woman  today, as mother, wife, friend and daughter, and apparently I am changing lives by living life out loud! I am enjoying my Friday nights much more without drowning my sorrows and I look forward to waking to a cup of tea, which is now my drink of choice. I am happiest to hear from people from out of nowhere who have heard my story, who would like to thank me for talking about my unhealthy relationship with booze. Even more taken aback when friends tell me that I have helped them to drink less or consider a break from alcohol because I spoke up. So I am making new connections and living the life that I truly desire.It was from a deep sense of not being able to control my drinking that I felt like I was not worthy as a person.  Whether or not I felt like I needed to drink, I did so to feel like I was a better mother, or to fit in, or because I thought I deserved it after a typical busy week. Even during my pregnancies I did not abstain from drinking alcohol, reasoning that if my obstetrician was okay with it, then so was I.Why was I finding myself calling Alcoholics Anonymous to make enquiries for ‘other people’, but could not see myself, even for looking. I often feel like I was making more of an issue about my drinking than anyone else was,  and the truth is that I was not drinking any more or less than the next person, but I knew that I must seek help for a problem that only I would realise after stopping, was bigger than what I realised, because I did not see that I had a choice.I thought you were just destined to drink, drink lots, and do it often , usually behind closed doors , or think about it and plan for the next big night , usually when I could sleep it off the next day without having to front-up to friends, family or my kids. It would see me spiralling, mentally spinning and lost for words.  I was sinking further into a pit that I was not familiar with. I was not aware, until I sought help, that I was experiencing a pretty intense mood disorder, not made much better by drinking alcohol. I wondered, when reflecting upon my relationship with alcohol, whether or not I would discuss mental Illness and I suppose the answer is clear, for me the two go hand in hand.  If it wasn’t for the alcohol dependence, I do not believe I would’ve met with many of those debilitating days of depression, finding myself lost, or finding myself locked away because the ceiling was caving in with panic, anxiety which I could only describe as impending disaster. You too, will know what I mean  if you have experienced a full-blown panic attack. Which came first, the chicken or the egg? Did the high highs and the dreaded lows lower my insight into what made for a healthy lifestyle, or was the desire to numb, too great?My weekends are much clearer now. I am more present, less selfish, less irritable, less moody and more inspired to find connection. I feel more ME … I am less inclined to please people, more inclined to listen to my own judgement, more inclined to play and spend the weekend hanging out with the kids, and planning for our fun Friday movie nights together, munching popcorn, and sipping lemonade. Compared to how I used to feel, when I did binge, I was designing the opposite life that I deserved or really craved. I thought that I was craving a normal lifestyle that many had, many did, yet when I looked around I didn’t see the desperate drinker that I had become. I thought that was normal. What I really desired was the freedom which I have only now that I know that I don’t need to crack open a beer the moment I walk through the door each Friday night. It doesn’t give me what I really crave which is ‘connection’.  I was living a disconnect with myself, the real me, the people that I love and the world around me. I never drank to enjoy the taste, when socialising with others; instead it was done in private mostly, with my children in the other room and my husband by my side ready to catch my glass before it hit the carpet. This is not what I wanted to model to my children, so that they too thought this was normal. I didn’t know that I had a choice to change!! Since giving the booze away, I feel as though Friday is much like every other night, as I am happier every day and I am less inclined to become mentally exhausted by the week’s end.  Life in general is less about the need to escape the rat race, as my mood is more stable and I am still within ‘balance’ and too excited to feel ‘pissy’… I am excited about relaxing into the weekend, without hesitation, without trying to prolong it, or make Friday night beers in front of the TV ; instead I’m more looking forward to parenting, or waking on Monday morning. I was just living life going through the paces, just coping with a mental illness, and consuming drinks meant that I was also digesting additional depression and anxiety each sip, swig, drink; it had become my medicine in a bottle, and I was reckless, misusing and not prepared to make better choices.  I remember I would begin to be quite fun, flirty and frivolous … until I wasn’t. I could become quite fiery and flighty and not much fun to be around. In my sobriety I have found that I made some dangerous choices on boozy nights, and my story is not different to the next person. I am not different to you; I drank to take the fear away, as do many others. I gave up so that I could live again and because I did wake one day and realise that I DID have a choice …  I woke one day to realise that all along I had the craving, the longing for a life only half-lived, and the choice to live it fully. I chose to live life sober until I realised that I also had the choice to stop after one drink! By giving up, I gained so much more than I could have imagined. I no longer feel the need to escape …  I chose to speak up, because if my girlfriend on the other side of the world hadn’t done so one day, it could’ve taken me longer or I could’ve just continued doing life the same way I always had, blind to the truth that the choice was there all along. I have the choice and I am living life boldly and I desire connection. It is only with connection that I realise that there is no room for addiction. I was addicted to a life that I thought was so normal, and it was making me unwell as I was not able to stop at one, until I realised that I had the choice to make that decision for myself all along. 

I decided to stop drinking and have my last drink on 28th December 2018. Although I was not an everyday drinker, I was what some may call a ‘problem drinker’ – I would binge drink.

I am a 55-year-old single mum of an 18 year-old. When I broke up with my partner in March 2003, I decided that I would make sure my daughter was brought up in a loving and secure home; I was present for her ALWAYS!
Growing up I didn’t realise until I had my own child, how neglected I was from the love of my mother who is an alcoholic and now has been diagnosed with dementia. I didn’t want this for my daughter; I wanted to be a strong role model for her.

I didn’t drink all the time but in recent years I would have a couple of wines three or four times a week, and this became more and more over time. I would isolate myself at home, prefer to drink alone and watch Netflix rather than go out and socialise. If I did socialise I would leave early so I could go home and have a drink. I was always worried about how I would get home or who would be there to look out for me if I had too much to drink, so I would prefer to be behind closed doors; that way I felt safe.

One terrible incident that came into my mind was getting home from a work’s Christmas party a few years ago. I cannot remember getting home and I was so sick for 3–4 days afterwards, I never wanted to touch a drink again. But I did!
I was beginning not to enjoy my drinking as much as I used to; I would feel ashamed, self-loathing and just hate myself for sitting at home drinking alone. I would wake up and go to work feeling heady, foggy and so tired and grumpy. I would be so disappointed in myself for even having the two glasses of wine the previous night! I would torment myself each day, saying ‘I won’t drink after work, blah blah’, but would always end up having a couple of glasses, sometimes the whole bottle. This cycle went on for months.

The light-bulb moment when I realised that I needed to make a change with my drinking, was the day after Boxing Day 2018. I was sitting at home with my bottle of wine, relaxing after a busy Christmas. I hadn’t really had much to drink over the Chrissy period as I was mainly the designated driver, so that night I remember drinking the whole bottle of wine. My daughter was out with her friends. They were at a club and I knew she would probably have a few drinks herself, so before I went to bed, I put a bottle of water, some Panadol and her eye mask by her bed.

The next day when she got up, she said ‘I love you so much Mum, you are so cute leaving the water etc. by my bed’ – I couldn’t remember doing it. I felt so ashamed and disgusted with myself because I couldn’t remember putting the water etc. by her bed. This was the moment I knew I had to stop drinking; it wasn’t making me happy; it wasn’t making my life better; it was holding me back and making me feel isolated. I didn’t want to sit at home anymore; I didn’t want the alcohol to rule my life; I didn’t want to end up like my mother. I was sick of the torment in my head about my drinking; I was sick of wasting so much of my time on alcohol.

I felt desperate; I didn’t want to live like that anymore, drinking to get confidence before I went out, drinking alone and at times having blackouts. I remember a few years ago I stopped drinking for a few months with the help of ‘Hello Sunday Morning’, so I got straight back onto the site and saw an app called ‘DayBreak’. This is what has helped me get through the past three months. The community is so supportive, very positive and doesn’t have a negative thing to say even if you have a down day; they pick you up and understand where you are coming from. There are so many people out there that want to stop drinking, and this app is amazing.

I’m still not drinking and what I have noticed is that I am more alert, focussed, happy and, believe it or not, much more confident. I am happy to be out and about; I have put my heart and soul into my health and fitness, and I feel amazing. I still take each day as it comes but have worked out that alcohol is not for me right now.

I don’t know if I will ever drink again, but at this stage I really need to keep on HSM and the Daybreak app to help me keep going. I know I am a better person within myself, without alcohol.

Lee

This week, we have a guest post from our mates at Sober in the Country, curated by Shanna Whan. 

I can’t speak for anyone else’s experience of beating their alcohol addiction.

In my case, there was this tiny, seemingly inconsequential moment – the kind that happens thousands of times a day – that proved the catalyst for change. It was nothing I could have planned or set up. I could never have foreseen what would make the difference.

I had tried AA meetings, tried quitting drinking for a month here or three months there, tried drinking only on weekends, or drinking by an ever-shifting set of rules that was designed to give me the illusion of control but only left me exhausted and defeated.

My husband, Chris, had landed a new job that included a lovely house on acreage. I was always a country girl in an urban world, so my bag was packed before the ink had dried on his contract. We were only about a month into our new arrangement and still in awe of our good fortune.

Sitting on the front verandah of our beautiful new house on a warm October afternoon, our 18-month-old daughter was playing on the lawn in front of us. I was drinking a glass of white wine – my second or third for the afternoon – when she waddled up to me and stretched her hand toward my wine glass.

‘Tah?’ she said.

In an instant I saw my daughter – not 18 months old now – but eight years old, then 10, then 13, then 17, then an adult, then a parent herself.

I saw her growing and as she did, learning what the glass meant. Learning that after a couple, Mum would become boisterous and funny, after another one or two, quieter, with eyes that were slower to focus, speech that would slow down, imperceptibly at first, just the odd word here and there.

She would learn that awful dread feeling when she saw her mother’s glass being filled. The feeling of knowing what was to unfold over the next few hours and being powerless to stop it. She would learn the shame of despising a parent you love because of their weakness. The inability to respect them as you hear them slurring and repeating themselves, or see them stumbling and holding themselves up on the furniture. The fury at their vehement denial of a problem.

It was October 31, 2009 and that was it. That was the moment.

The day after

The next afternoon when Chris got home, I went to the gym. It was not so much about a healthy lifestyle change as it was about breaking a pattern. If I was at home at the pre-dinner hour, I didn’t trust myself to stick to my promise.

Every day for the next three weeks I went to the gym at 5 o’clock. Then one day, I didn’t. The spell was broken. My days of opening a bottle of wine when Chris got home from work, were over.

There was Christmas to get through, but by then I was two months in. The longer it was since my last drink, the more determined I was not to cave. I didn’t want to have to start the counter again from Day 1, and because I had made this promise to my daughter, I felt that if I didn’t make it work this time, I would never be able to kick it. It felt like life and death to me.

Onwards and upwards

My decision to quit drinking coincided with my first semester of a Graduate Certificate I had enrolled in at university, as a mature-aged student.

I had been a bright kid at school: I was dux of my primary school and went to a selective high school and on to university before wasting my 20s and early 30s in a self-destructive haze of mediocre jobs and a lack of direction.

The time that I reclaimed through sobriety I put into study, and was rewarded with four High Distinctions from four subjects. The certificate I received at the end of that course represents to me a point in my life so significant and poignant, a point where I chose a life of quality and dignity over one of careless disregard for myself, and by extension, my family. That piece of paper signifies a return to self-love and self-respect. I am so proud of it.

Confidante

One of the things I have come to understand as a recovered alcoholic (I use ‘recovered’ rather than the term ‘recovering’, because I know there will be no going back for me) is that your choice becomes an inspiration for others.

Struggling with alcohol can feel very shameful and lonely, but once you are sober you learn that many, many people fret about their levels of drinking.

When I meet people and they learn that I don’t drink, they are often curious about my reasons. I try to be open about my past, although it depends on the company – I am not always immune to worrying about what others will think.

When people learn I have overcome alcoholism, more often that not, they will say something along the lines of ‘I really need to look at how much I drink’ or ‘I wish I could be as strong as you’.

Nightmares

If I ever lost sight of how important my sober life is to me now, I am occasionally reminded by a nightmare that is always the same scenario.

In these dreams, which I have maybe two or three times a year, I am at a party and I start drinking again after all the years sober. The devastation at having broken my promise to myself is palpable, and when I wake up I am always weak with relief to find that it is not real. These nightmares serve as a powerful reminder of what I would lose if I ever went back to drinking.

In the years since October 31, 2009, I feel like I have started living my life instead of reacting to it. I have found courage because I have stopped feeling like a fraud. I am more organised and more disciplined in every area.

My life of drinking was characterised by ‘I can’t be bothered …’ but now things are very different.

My home and career are as I have designed them, and I am devoted to my little family. Studying is still a big part of my life. Instead of using alcohol to ‘turn the volume down’ every night, I spend my evenings charting new intellectual territory.

We have horses and go riding as a family. I have the energy to experiment with new recipes when I cook. I do ‘tourist’ things in neighbouring towns. I plan holidays, I save money, I buy thoughtful gifts for people, I keep my home clean and uncluttered.

In short, these days I can be bothered.

But beneath all the shouts of ‘Cheers!’ and ‘Taxi!!’ there is a level of shame and concern for many people about the levels at which they drink.

For anyone wanting to embark on a life of sobriety, but who fears what that involves, you should be reassured. Waiting ‘on the other side’ is a life of peace and freedom from craving, of fulfilment and quiet pride, and of endless time to achieve all those things you’ve always wanted.

Anonymous 

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