14 Mar My 24 Year Toxic Love Affair
Well firstly – that hot woman in the picture drinking whilst draped in a sophisticated manner…….that’s not how I look when I drink. I’m more Rab C. Nesbitt.
Alcohol – who hasn’t had moments of absolute hilarity whilst under the influence of the demon drink? I know I did.
It had to stop.
I was a latecomer to alcohol. I completely skipped the sneaking a bottle of 20/20 out the kitchen cupboard phase in favour of sitting in with my mum in a semi-agoraphobic glum.
Even when my first trip abroad with my family came when I was 16, I turned down a sneaky tipple offered and got stuck into the Spanish coffee (That is an even longer love affair – one that has never wavered with time).
I only started to drink when I started university and even then it was only wimpy stuff. Malibu & pineapple……Boxes of Soleil which I’m pretty sure is less alcoholic than pure orange juice.
When I started to work full time I got a taste for wine.
I liked the warm fuzzy feeling that I got from drinking it and for a long time I was sensible with it.
12 months later and I got completely mortal on a work night out. I didn’t remember anything and had managed to lose my phone. My then boyfriend was furious and bemused at how I had got so drunk in such a short space of time. I grovelled my way out of it and the hangover cleared.
That’s always been my problem. I had a short memory when it came to hangovers.
Over the subsequent years I can honestly attribute 99% of arguments, bust ups, break ups and meltdowns to alcohol.
I’m not an aggressive drunk by any stretch….I’m a gusher. I love everyone and everything. I’d check my phone in the morning with my one functioning eye and cringe at my fawning.
Prior to having my children, my nightly routine was unwinding with a bottle of Blue Nun & 10 Embassy. I got used to functioning on a semi-hangover and started to find it difficult to sleep without.
When I got with my now Husband, we had a crazy social life of midweek pubbing and weekend clubbing.
It was a hoot!
Until about 1am when I would start to cry having become hyper sensitive. Neil would just laugh at me or try to calm me down, this then angered the beast and we would end up having a full on ridiculous fall out.
I’d then storm off, wake up hating myself and spend all the next day trying to contact him. Then would come the anxious beer blues. The heart stopping flash backs and the aches.
Then we would make up.
It was addictive. I think we buzzed off the unpredictability.
It couldn’t carry on though. Several times we had these bust ups around friends. I’d fallen over a few times, I was mortified at what his friends must have thought of me. When sober we had a lovely relationship. When booze was thrown into the mix it was like adding a Mento mint to a bottle of coke.
Thank God I got pregnant.
I needed to look after myself. I’d had a heady ten years as a career girl, loving working and socialising in Manchester. We had discussed renting a flat in the centre for 6 months before I got the positive pee stick.
Niamh was my liver’s saviour.
Don’t get me wrong I still had the odd night out when she was little and yes the odd hangover but I never delved back into that indulgence – I couldn’t.
Once your kids are here you can’t indulge the roughness by spending a day in bed eating last night’s pizza and watching Lost and changing a dirty nappy with a hangover is just horrendous.
It’s been a long time since I got that way now but I still look back with regret and cringe. Words said that can’t be taken back. Behaviour witnessed by other’s that wouldn’t be out of place on reality TV.
I can completely understand how some people slip into a spiralling addiction with drinking. It’s a fine line between feeling warm, confident, hilarious then argumentative and unreasonable.
Alcohol is a cruel mistress that is as beastly as she is beautiful.