I’ve been putting off writing this post, mainly because I didn’t think I’d actually go through with it. And then I did.
I stopped drinking.
It’s no secret that I LOVE gin, we based one of our first ever Boo & Boy prints on it. I also love pear cider … and wine. Hell, I love alcohol which is why those of you who know me actually sniggered, openly, when you heard of my plans for a dry month. No one laughed louder than the manager of our local shop where I make most of my alcohol purchases “You won’t last until the weekend, love” he jested while waving a bottle of Bombay Sapphire in my direction.
During December, with all the festivities I was drinking more then normal and as I’m not the sort to be hangover free, I suffered for my sins. The hangover from our Christmas do which involved Victorian dress, karaoke and Korean liquor was particularly spectacular. After Christmas we were all struck down with ‘The Virus of Doom’ so I decided that my body needed a break.
That first week was bloody hard, I yearned for the gin which I had hidden from myself in the kitchen cupboard. I begged The Husband to join me in my non-alcoholic quest and then watched as he drank the leftover stash of pear cider and wine from Christmas.
Speaking to a friend, also partaking in Dry January, she said “I live like a hermit, it’s the only way I can get through it. I’m a social outcast”. Another friend said “I did it last year and hated every minute of it, I don’t know why I’m doing it again”. The situation seemed dire, I didn’t think I’d last more than a week.
But after that first weekend my skin cleared up and I didn’t have a dull headache in the morning. It became easy although I made no social plans that would put me in the path of temptation. Last week I went to a meeting in London and turned down champagne, on three occasions, then I drank lemonade in a pub and I realised that this not drinking lark was actually alright … I could do it.
So now, I am nearing the end of my self imposed ban and my fellow Dry January-ers are chomping at the bit for February to come, they are planning to enter the new month in a raucous wave of booze, and I’m a bit … meh.
I told a friend this week that I was thinking of extending my abstinence beyond the 31st of January, that I might be hanging up my ice and a slice. She laughed, loudly, laughed once more and then dared me.