Contemplating milestones

Hi all. I’m still here and still sober. I’ve really been neglecting this blog but it’s mainly for the best of reasons with a light sprinkling of laziness and procrastination thrown in. I’ve recently been feeling pretty inspired and have been busy working on creative projects. I have the kind of clarity of mind and the ability to focus that has been missing for a long, long time due to my drinking. I don’t plan to waste it. I’m also busy at work, it’s silly season in retail, meh!

Now I am starting to see my one year date on the horizon. I’m not taking anything for granted but I’m also not fearful that I won’t make it. I remember when lasting three days was a struggle and when thirty seemed impossible. Now I’m feeling very fortunate that I’ve done more than ten (and a half) of those in a row.

Looking through some old notebooks I found notes making plans to do a ‘YOLS’. I’d forgotten about that. It was my discreet acronym for a year of living sober. I’m not sure when it was from but I think it may even predate this blog. I’ve evidently been thinking about this for such a long time and now, finally, I find myself contemplating this significant milestone.

I’ve previously tried to imagine this point many times. As with so many of our fears or expectations, most of what I imagined doesn’t match the reality.

I imagined that the decision whether or not to drink again at this stage would be one still based on struggle and fear. Maybe I’d want to try drinking again but I’d be too scared of it all escalating again? I thought I’d be torn – do I? Don’t I? Instead I find myself ready to renew my sober vow to myself out of excitement, curiosity and determination. Not what I was expecting but, I’ll take it!

I visualise this as being like hiking up a big mountain, it’s probably the best way to express how I’m feeling. The beginning of the hike was dreadful. Every step took a huge amount of effort. I had no idea how I was going to keep going. Everything hurt, I was unfit and ill-prepared. The summit looked a million miles away. As the days, weeks and months passed I got fitter, stronger and more experienced and the steps forward became progressively easier. It’s not all been plain sailing (or hiking). At times I felt exhausted and demotivated and wanted to just give up and slide back down the mountain. Many times I wondered if it was all really necessary or worth it. At other times I felt all pink cloudy and fired up, confidently striding onwards and upwards. It’s definitely been a mixed year.

Now, the one year summit is in sight. I’m feeling fit and strong and the final few weeks of the hike don’t intimidate me. I know there are always opportunities to slip or fall but I keep my eyes carefully on the path ahead. The idea of drinking again when I finally reach the summit now seems as crazy as doing a real hike up a mountain and then not bothering to stop and admire the view. Why on earth would I waste all that effort?

I have thought that making it to one year would somehow be the end of the process but now I suspect it’s actually going to be a new beginning. Now I’ve got to the stage where I’m spending very little mental energy on not drinking it’s all been freed up to do other stuff that I couldn’t focus on before. I’m not big on new years’ resolutions, never have been, but I’ve vowed that 2018 is the year I’m finally going to make my creative stuff pay. The quality and consistency of my work has definitely increased in the last few months.

I can feel a return of the positivity and determination that I had when I was younger. That feeling that even though stuff might be hard, I can DO shit. Also that feeling that I CAN, and WILL, find a way to make things happen, even if the HOW is not immediately obvious. There are also more frequent moments of peace and contentment, sometimes in the strangest contexts – just bog-standard ordinary moments rather than overtly ‘good’ times. I find gratitude comes easier these days and I’ve definitely noticed a general swing towards a more positive mental attitude.

I still find dealing with life and the world difficult at times. I have sensitive introvert tendencies and events often feel way too ‘in my face’ but I find that in my new clarity I can usually summon that little ounce of extra courage to get out there and attempt things in spite of my anxiety. And if something does go wrong or my mood drops then it’s easier to move through it and learn my lessons if I actually feel the difficult feelings rather than hide away from them behind the drinking.

So, next month I will be waving goodbye to my first year of sobriety and welcoming the beginning of year two with a little bit of trepidation but mostly with anticipation. I’m not sure where it will take me yet but I am sure it has to be better than where a return to drinking would lead. I still don’t say I have quit forever, it’s more a foreseeable future kind of thing. This feels too strong, too real and too hopeful to imagine wanting to let that false friend back into my life any time soon though…

I hope folks are coping well with the Christmas / holidays party onslaught. One of the good things about being an introverted hermit and working a lot over this season is that I don’t really have to deal with all that. A quiet meal with friends is hopefully as hectic as it gets for me. New years eve will be spent at work this year which I’m fine with. I’ve always found it an over-priced, over-rated and over-hyped excuse for a drunken shit-show – not that I’ve needed much excuse in the past as you all know.

Sending you all some extra sober strength to deal with the seasonal chaos and I hope you have a lovely weekend 🙂 x

 

 

 

 

 

 

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Aha! moments

The last couple of days I seem to have emerged from my depression to a degree. It’s a relief. I still don’t feel 100% but I’m a lot better than I was.

I was listening to podcasts at work last weekend and during an interview I heard Paul Chek say that things in the natural world need a winter season, that it’s an important part of the cycle of living. That really struck a chord with me and got me wondering if that was what was happening when I lost all motivation and just slept or vegged out. Once I reframed the depression into a resting winter phase I stopped fighting it and worrying about it and now it seems to have lifted somewhat. Unexpected but also cool.

I love it when I hear a certain phrase or read a particular quote and it just sears through my muddled thinking with a sharp-pointed dose of utter clarity. Aha! moments. Lightning bolt moments. Whatever you want to call them. I’ve had three in the last few weeks although I can’t remember having had one for quite some time before that.

The first one also came whilst listening to a podcast. Robert Lustig M.D. was being interviewed about his latest book, The Hacking Of The American Mind. He pointed out that most people conflate the concepts of pleasure and happiness. Pleasure=happiness, right? Keep chasing the pleasure and the happiness is sure to follow, right? Marketing tells us so. Social media tells us so. Everybody and their dog is telling us so. But it’s a flawed concept.

I was stunned. How could I have got something that simple so wrong? It actually stopped me mid-lift with a dozen tins of soup at face level while I said ‘OMFG!’ out loud. Luckily nobody was around ;D

Pleasure is dopamine driven. Happiness is dependent on serotonin. This is a seriously simplified version of it of course but it serves as a basic representation of the issue at hand. Addictive and excessive pleasure chasing (booze, drugs, food, gambling etc) elevates the levels of dopamine which in turn down-regulates serotonin. So, excessive pleasure chasing actually = less happiness, not more. Of course, it’s one of those fine seesaw balances that human biology is so dependent on.

You also can’t remove the effects of dopamine and hope serotonin and happiness will soar. In his book he writes about a short-lived Parkinson’s drug trial that had this effect and some of the participants fell into severe depression or even committed suicide. Dopamine – and pleasure – is still an essential part of the balance it seems, as long as it doesn’t try to take over. It goes without saying, I’d highly recommend a read of his book. It’s written more with food in mind than alcohol but it still made total sense and I found it extremely helpful to clear up my own thinking.

The second Aha! moment was the winter phase realisation which opened this post.

The third happened a few days ago and involves quotes from The Miracle Of Mindfulness by the Vietnamese Buddhist monk Thich Nhat Hanh.

During one of my long inert phases flopped out on the sofa I was trying to observe my thinking and work out what was getting in the way of me being motivated to do anything. Any possibility I presented brought up a stream resistance and judgement which talked me out of doing anything.

Shall I do some housework? No, it’s boring and dull. Once it’s finished it’s just time to start it again; it’s pointless, there’s always more dirty laundry or dishes. I’m depressed, I want to be entertained not be slaving away.

Shall I cook some healthy food? Ugh, too much effort and what was I just saying about dirty dishes?! Takeaway is so easy and tasty, I don’t care right now if it’s healthy or not.

Shall I go for a walk? Then you’ll have to see other people. People are shit. They’re loud, inconsiderate, rude, mean etc. It’s just easier to stay home, on the sofa. I’ve got no energy anyway, balls to that.

Shall I do some creative work? I don’t know, it seems like hard work. I’ve lost my way a bit with all that. I’m not getting the results I want. It’s all too much effort, just stick Netflix back on.

Those are just a few examples. It was an eye-opener how negative and fear-based it all was. It became clear that the only place my conscious thinking mind was taking me was where I already was, sprawled out of the sofa with box sets and the cat. Fortunately I managed to switch the TV off and fire up my kindle which is when the next improvement happened.

I’ve thought I’ve known about mindfulness-of-breath meditation for many years now but one simple line in the book suddenly brought a new and deeper understanding:

‘Our breath is the bridge from our body to our mind…’ I switched from the breath just being a ‘thing’ to be used as a focus for meditation to realising that devoting a portion of my awareness to always staying aware of my breath I could also be aware of my body and of being in the present moment no matter what was happening around me. I have been doing this for a few days now, as often as possible, not just during meditation sessions. It’s making a huge difference.

The next line that made an impact seemed to provide an answer to the mental quandries I wrote about earlier, the fears and resistances that keep me from carrying out even the simplest tasks. ‘The feeling that any task is a nuisance will soon disappear if it is done in mindfulness’. Oooh! how appropriate. And it does seem to work. I’ve been making my awareness of my breathing my number one priority as much as possible and the last few days I’ve been out and about running errands, catching up on shopping and laundry, cooking healthy food, making breakthroughs and defining my creative directions. No mental pushing necessary. What a difference, it’s almost unbelieveable.

What’s odd is that I’ve had this book on my kindle for at least two years but never got round to reading it. When I was in my low moment on the sofa I talked to my version of a higher-power-thingy and asked for guidance on how to move forward and break out of this state. I have no idea why I just suddenly had the urge to read this particular book but now I’m wondering why it took me so long. I have a comedic image of my infinite-light-being-guide-whatever doing a huge long face-palm groaning, ‘It’s on your kindle dumbass!’ LOL! Oh well, better late than never.

I hope you all have a few Aha! moments of your own this weekend. Sober hugs and strength to anybody who’s struggling and wondering if it’s all worth it. It is, keep going. Keep warm and take care xx

Day 281 – Hi again

I haven’t checked in here for ages now and I just realised I didn’t make a single post in October. I hope folks are doing well and had a good sober October if they were doing that.

I’m still sober and well over nine months now so my absence wasn’t because I’d fallen off the wagon. Instead I’ve been engulfed by a dragging, lurking dark cloud of depression. I don’t know if it’s the change of season or if I’ve hit a burst of PAWS or if it’s just a longer lasting version of the on and off flat state that’s followed me around as long as I can remember.

It’s not severe. Even on my worst days I’m far from suicidal. I’m still working and doing a good impression of a person functioning in society. I just have zero motivation for anything. I’ve withdrawn socially IRL and online; I’m eating junk, sleeping lots (often unplanned and randomly on the sofa), spending whole days on netflix and neglecting my exercise, self care and creative activities.

I know what I need to do to pull out of the nosedive but I have that strange out-of-body point of view where I’m just standing by and watching myself do all the wrong things. It’s odd and frustrating and I recognise it from the many times I’ve watched myself pour glasses of wine even though I didn’t really want to and knew it was a bad idea.

The one silver lining in this very un-pink cloud I’m currently in is that I have absolutely no desire to drink. There has been none of the usual drinking debates in my mind about feeling bad anyway so I might as well drink or that drinking would help. In my more observant moments I can find a surrendered and observing attitude and although I don’t really know what current is dragging me down to this place I definitely knows it’s not due to a lack of alcohol. Alcohol is the last thing I need right now, ugh! Alcohol would just make everything worse. I know that attitude is hard to imagine for some of you in the early stages but I promise you, the shift does eventually happen.

If it gets worse or lasts too long I’ll go see my GP but for now I’m going to wait it out and see what I can learn from it. I’ve already had some shifts in awareness over the last month, mostly around what I can control and do something about and what I can’t and must let go of for my own sanity. I’ve had a lot of anger come up and out too, like a psychological puking. I’m doing a fair bit of reading during this down time too so it’s not all bad. I’ll try to check in here more often. I feel a bit better after writing this.

I hope everybody is doing ok and I’m sorry I haven’t really kept up with your blogs. I’ll try to catch up in the coming days and weeks. Sober hugs and best wishes x

Over 8 months

I passed the 8 month mark a couple of days ago but I can’t remember my day count exactly without checking my phone, which I think is a good thing. I’ve had some time off work and spent some much-needed chillout time and life/home admin tucked away in the house. It’s been an odd week or so which has provided me with quite a few small reminders about why life is better when I’m sober.

We had a sofa delivered at the beginning of the week which has ended up being a bit of a saga. The chaos started with my cat deciding to try to poop out a furball behind the front door, 5 minutes before it arrived. When I found her and she realised she was busted she legged it round the house meowing with the ‘thing’ hanging half out her butt as I ran after her with baby wipes. Yuck!

The delivery guys then arrived and got the sofa stuck in the hallway. They shoved it so hard it sheared off one side of one of the door frames with a massive ‘CRACK’ and a scattering of heavy Victorian-era plaster. I wasn’t happy but these things happen and that’s the reason companies have public liability insurance. I took photos of the damage, emailed the company and I’m now waiting for them to go through their complaints process. Unfortunately the sofa is awful. We unwrapped it and plonked excitedly on it to find it’s rock hard. My kind of sofa will let you sink in and relax. This one felt like I was perched on a horse, sitting upright to attention. It only took a couple of hours for it to make my back ache.

We decided to return it which the company fortunately allows. I had to repack it though. You know when you take something out of its original packaging and then it never fits back in quite right? Try that with a large sofa! They collected it today and I held my breath as they struggled it out through the hallway. Once they’d cleared the front door I let out a sigh of relief, too soon as it turned out because there came a big shattering clunk as they knocked off the top of one of our brick gate pillars. Seriously guys?! To be fair it was probably a bit loose. These houses were built at the turn of the last century and the front walls are getting a bit knackered in places. Even so… it’s two new repair jobs we could do without.

The drinking me would have immersed myself in a spiral of drama with each incident being the ‘justification’ for a drinking session. I was a bit stressed about it but not so much about the material stuff, more the disruption to my routine and the invasion of privacy. I can’t relax when I know strangers are going to come into the house. Now I’m not drinking I can see through the surface stress to a more balanced drama-free perspective.

There’s so much to actually be grateful for in this story if I think clearly about it. Firstly, we’re in a position to be able to afford a new sofa. Secondly, for damage to occur to my home, I need to have one, which I do. I’m grateful that it’s generally safe, warm and happy. Repacking the sofa wasn’t much fun but I’m so grateful that I have the fitness and strength to maneuvre a 43kg sofa on my own (my partner had a crazy work schedule the last couple of days so I dealt with it). I’m grateful that I’m not facing damage from hurricanes, earthquakes or bombs – just some clumsy delivery guys. You get the idea.

None of it is going to matter in a few weeks, never mind the bigger picture. Finally, I’m grateful that I’m sober and can put all this in its proper perspective. It was a small and restrictive mindset that would have manically run with these ‘nice to have’ ‘problems’ in the direction of a drinking binge. What a petty, limiting and negative way to live! I’m so glad that’s not my mindset any more. Life is far from perfect but I have so much to be grateful for.

I still have a couple of nights left of my holiday so I’m planning a seriously chilled and lazy evening. I’ll get into my PJs and sink into our comfy old worn and cracked sofa with a furry blanket, lots of hot tea and a long session of Gotham on netflix. Hell yeah ;D

Have a lovely evening whatever you get up to x

Day 230

I’m doing some long overdue painting in the house at the moment and it’s made me realise how much I’ve changed since the last time I did any around five years ago. I’m a lot fitter and stronger than before. I moved furniture, did preparation stuff, then painted a ceiling and the first coat on all four walls all in one long session. I’m also sober which was odd yesterday because I’ve always strongly equated DIY work (which I don’t particularly enjoy) with earning copious amounts of wine ‘rewards’.

Previously I would have done a few hours and then had the first glass of wine, telling myself I’d carry on working. Once the wine started to take effect I’d at least have the sense to realise I shouldn’t be climbing ladders and handling open paint cans so I’d abandon the job. I’d have sat amidst my part-finished paint job and got sloshed, telling myself I’d ‘earned’ it, that I ‘deserved’ it. This time I got into my PJs and ate the takeaway my partner bought, sat and digested whilst admiring the results for a bit and then went to bed for some much needed sleep. The bliss of crashing into bed thoroughly knackered and feeling satisfied by the day’s achievements was far sweeter than the wine could ever have been. I’m awake again before it’s light, free from a hangover and ready to carry on transforming my nest. Yeah! I’m turning into a person that gets shit done.

I’ve been remarkably free from any cravings for a few weeks now. Even the DIY association yesterday didn’t produce any cravings as such. There was a low background rumble of some sort in my consciousness. The connection had definitely stirred but it felt distant and disconnected and it didn’t form into any recognisable drinking thinking. Instead I just acknowledged it and it seeped away harmlessly, like a fart into the wind.

I’m doing a lot of reading on the subject of addiction at the moment. In the early stages I read a lot of drinking memoirs which gave me those ‘me too!’ moments and helped me to recognise that my own drinking had gone awry. Now I’m feeling more acceptance and stability in my sobriety my attention is turning to wanting to understand more about it. There are so many different models, arguments and theories surrounding addiction. I’m genuinely open and interested in all ideas and much of what I read contradicts what I’ve previously read. Disease, not disease, choice, self-medication, learning disorder, 12-step, not 12-step, neuroscience, neuropsychology, psychology etc. I can’t get enough of the learning. The concepts are slowly taking shape in my mind but I can think of a number of books that warrant a second or even third reading. I feel like my brain is waking up again.

I haven’t been online much in the last few days, I’ll sit down and catch up with blog reading over the weekend (I’m off work yay!) I guess for now I’d better put my painting pants back on and get on with it. Big hugs to anybody who’s struggling in the early days. I know how you’re feeling, keep hanging in there. At one stage I NEVER could have imagined approaching eight months but here I am. If (after what seemed like a million restarts) I can do it then you can do it too x Have a great weekend everybody 🙂

 

 

 

Day 208

I was going to post to mark passing 200 days but didn’t end up getting round to it. I have to rely on my counting app now to know how many days I have, the number has become far less a focus of my consciousness. The whole not drinking thing has become something I think about far less too. That’s probably why I’m not online or posting as much at the moment.

I’m having a strange time with a lot of anger surfacing. I think I’ve always been pretty angry with the world. From the first realisations of my misfit status whilst my age was still in single digits to the plethora of injustices, imbalances and general mess that we currently live in and call society. A lot seems to be driving (and inconsiderate parking) related. I was listening to a Tim Ferriss podcast and got a crazy rush of anger as he described being nearly drowned by a childhood bully holding him underwater. I see crisp packets and coke bottles strewn around in beautiful woodland and fume about the ignorance of it all. These are just a tiny few examples.

So, I’m pretty sure that anger was one of the things I was drinking to ignore. Now I’m not drinking and now I’ve got past the early months of laser-like focus on avoiding drinking, the stuff I’ve avoided for so long is definitely queuing up to say hello.

I can count on half a hand how many times I’ve had aggravated verbal confrontations with somebody in my life. I’m very confrontation avoidant and generally hate it. I have now had two in the previous two weeks, both at work.

During the first one I was very in control. I didn’t swear or say anything unjustifiable. I had injured my hand the previous night after doing at least two extra hours of work than my contract requires. I was told what my tasks were for the current night and worked out that it was at least an hour more than the actual working time I had, yet again – even though I had pointed out I was injured. There are some people that constantly get away with doing less than their contract requires and instead of managing those people and kicking their butts or changing them for people that are prepared to work, the shortfall just gets piled onto people that they know will shut up and get on with it. I know this is a common complaint in workplaces and it’s not just me. I put my foot down and spoke out against it that night. I don’t know what came over me, I had just had enough and I let them know in no uncertain terms. I think I was more surprised than they were.

It actually turned out fine. I was told I made some fair points and that there were plans to change things in the near future. Hmm, I won’t be holding my breath. It was a surprising response though. Even as I was speaking my mind I was also thinking, ‘Oh shit! What am I doing?!’ It’s the first time in four years I’ve done anything like that whilst some colleagues bitch and moan their way through each and every shift. I was basically taken aside and told that I was well-respected and had earned the right to make those points by having a consistently laid-back but hard-working attitude. Phew!

The second outburst wasn’t quite as in control and well-phrased. We have a guy that comes in early morning to pick up stock that we drop on the floor when it has been delivered but there’s no space for it on the shelf. He snides and snarks his way along, constantly moaning about the night shift, life, the universe and anything else he can think of. He’s also not made the connection in his mind that whoever is in the aisle in the morning is also the person that did the work and therefore he’s bitching about them, to them. Normally I just let it go in through one ear, out the other.

The other morning he’d decided he was going to ‘make an example for the senior management team’ of my one mistake among the probably 6-7 HUNDRED boxes I’d handled that night. I’d mistaken one product for another and dropped it when it would have fit on the shelf. It’s so easy to do when you’re tired and rushing. I lost it. My rant began with… ‘Have you got any idea how much fucking work I handled last night?’ Oops! I went on to point out that taking my one genuine mistake and dropping me in the shit and backstabbing about it was petty and wasn’t exactly making for a good workplace. It’s only a week ago there was a bellowing argument across a meeting I was in. My job is beginning to look like some sort of Machiavellian soap opera at the moment. Jeez!! I did end up taking a deep breath and apologising for the manner in which I spoke (but not the content) and that I hadn’t set out to be intentionally rude.

It’s given me a lot to think about though. I felt pretty good after the first example. I would need to borrow a few hands to count how many times in my life I should have stood up for myself but didn’t (and drank away the resulting regrets and resentments). Sometimes things do need to be said, even though it’s scary to do it. I felt pretty shitty after the second example. The adrenaline wouldn’t dissipate and even though I tried to smooth it over at the end he may still make a complaint about me. I was also unhappy about how out of control it felt. I ended up using EFT to dial down the discomfort when I got home.

Handling anger is evidently something I need to work on and was probably an aspect of my development that got stunted by my early drinking to hide from it. I need to get a balance between standing up and constructively saying what needs to be said without becoming a reactive, unleashed rabid loon barking in everybody’s face. I’m going to be more mindful around my reactions at work in the coming weeks. I’ll take a deep, long breath before I react to anything. I don’t want to make these things a regular occurrence.

I’ve been trying to reframe incidents that make me angry and look beyond the immediate event to the probable underlying causes. Instead of getting angry at the other person I’ve been attempting to separate the behaviour from the person. I’ve been wishing people a peaceful resolution to whatever anger or fear is causing them to act out in dangerous, inconsiderate or antisocial ways. I’m also trying to remember that some things are out of my control and to get angry about those things is like drinking poison and hoping somebody else is going to feel it. It’s hard, really hard to do but it’s got to be better in the long run than mumbling and grumbling into a glass (bottle) of red.

I hope you’re all having a good, sober and calm week x

 

 

 

A challenging week

I still have the feeling that I’m experiencing life as if through an amplifier turned up to 11. What is strange is that I think it’s starting to become normalised. Humans do have an uncanny ability to normalise the most remarkable things which is both good and bad. On the negative side we can convert excessive drinking (and the resulting suffering) into our social normal. On a more positive note we can also begin to normalise our experiences of living sober. It doesn’t just apply to substance abuse problems either. When I look back at what I managed to normalise during various jobs, living arrangements and relationships I can’t believe I ever tolerated some of it. I’m sure most of you also have those sorts of memories that you look back on in disbelief with a small shake of your head. I guess what I’m trying to say is that I find it comforting to know that no matter how scared and avoidant of change we are when it does inevitably happen we have far more capacity to adapt and roll with it than many of us give ourselves credit for.

It’s been a strange week in my world. I went to my Auntie’s funeral on Wednesday. I wasn’t close to her, having only seen her maybe twice in the last two decades but I was sad for my uncle and that side of the family. I saw one cousin who I hadn’t seen for probably three decades and probably won’t for the next three, or the next funeral maybe. Another cousin was pleasant and polite but there is no connection whatsoever. The third cousin is the only one I really like and it was nice to see him, the last time being at my mum’s funeral over a decade ago. It made me a bit sad about the distance between us all. As you can tell, we’re not a close family, never have been really. I’ve always really envied warm and close families that love spending time together.

Spending time with family in this way has often been a huge trigger making me want to douse down the awkwardness, sadness and confusion that it brings. As that is not an option now I was left to see and feel it all rather than get that squirrelly, squirmy feeling of ‘OMG! Let me out!! Let the drinking begin…’ In a way this is the easier option. Instead of running in psychological circles until the discomfort headlights well and truly stop me in my tracks I was observing the situation for what it was, right from the beginning.

I also realised this week that my thinking when facing difficult situations has become brutally pragmatic in some ways. I don’t know if I was always like this or if this is a new development within sobriety. When we filed into the chapel for the funeral I couldn’t help wondering about what my dad was thinking. He’s in his 80s now and has openly talked with me about his uncertainty about how many years he has left. His funeral will take place in the same chapel when the time comes. That must have been an odd thought for him. I didn’t say anything though, some things are best left unsaid.

I also realised that sayings such as ‘blood is thicker than water’ are a load of balls. Just because I may have more DNA in common with one person than another it doesn’t mean there will automatically be any sort of bond. I think it’s up to us to choose the people we consider to be our family, or maybe tribe is a more appropriate word? I envy people that can honestly say their family is their true family, that seems like a beautiful thing looking in from the outside. I am also realising that it’s not a disaster or a failure on my part that my family doesn’t work like that. I’m respectfully detaching from the sadness and guilt this has caused me over the years. There’s no way I would have found that perspective with the wine countdown echoing through my skull or once the numbness sloshed its way through my veins.

The funeral was packed and we ended up having to stand at the back of the chapel. My auntie was a retired teacher and was always active socially in the local community. From overheard conversations I realised that some of the mourners were her former pupils. I can’t imagine making that much of a contribution and impression on life that so many people would turn up to my funeral. I realised that if I died I doubt my mourners wouldn’t even fill the front pews. This was also food for many challenging thoughts as you can probably imagine. I think my perspective on mourners for my death will be consistent with my thoughts on friends and ‘family’ during my life – quality not quantity.

Reading this back it does seem like a fairly dark post on the surface but it doesn’t feel that way. Some of these realisations have provided a sort of relief and freedom. What could have been a situation that weighed me down ended up providing an unexpectedly light and positive shift in my perspective. Seeing true reality rather than a distorted and numbed version of it is infinitely better, even though it can be tough in the moment.

Wishing you all a good ending to your week. Best wishes and hugs x