There will be no ‘taking the edge off’ next year
It’s about this time each year I start to think back to what misguided but well-meaning new year’s resolution I considered and probably wrote a column about. Of course, as is tradition, I can’t remember. Whatever it was, I suspect it lasted a couple of days and then faded away as life began to take over.
I was never one for making huge, unrealistic goals for the year ahead. I probably just hoped to make it through the year and with a few days to go in 2018, I’m pleased to report that I appear to have made it.
So with this in mind, it is time to look at the year ahead.
Over the past few weeks especially, I’ve been doing a fair amount of reflection on an extremely stressful year.
With stress can come some pretty unhelpful coping strategies and, for me, that has definitely involved falling back on the ‘‘wine mum’’ stereotype.
Now, before I offend all my fellow wine mums out there, I am a positive supporter of the amazing restorative properties that the occasional glass of wine at the end of a long day can have.
But what I have now realised is the slippery slope I found myself on when it came to relying on a tipple to ‘‘take the edge off’’.
Where once the odd mid-week drink seemed like a logical supplement to the inevitable stress that came with a busy life, I was soon finding that I was having more days with these drinks than without.
Don’t get me wrong, I’m not an alcoholic. I don’t drink myself to a stupor and have never missed anything due to my drinking. But that’s not the point.
It was more the subtle way that alcohol has slipped back into my life – after I was alcohol-free when pregnant and breastfeeding over the past few years – that has made me uncomfortable.
Sad? Drink. Happy? Drink. Don’t know what emotion you’re feeling? Drink. Whatever the excuse or emotion was, I could pair it nicely with a cheeky Bacardi and Coke Zero (I am a bogan from Hamilton, remember), or a rose´ .
But over the past year I feel like I started looking forward to drink o’clock a bit too much, and I never really had an excuse not to have a drink.
It never sat right with me the way that some people required an explanation from those not imbibing.
When I was pregnant, or what I also like to refer to as ‘‘socially accepted sober’’, I definitely saw a different side to how alcohol fits in my social circles.
Women who refuse a drink are forever questioned about the status of their uterus in response, whereas men are attacked along some type of masculinity-challenging lines.
The group often rejected excuses of not feeling like it or having something planned the following day. I know I’ve been guilty myself of wondering why others aren’t drinking at times.
As a psychology student, this interests me. Why do some people take others’ choices so personally in some instances?
I’m totally fine with others drinking, I love to drink myself, but it’s the unanswered questions I have that have prompted me to have a totally excuse-free, alcohol-free 2019.
No, I’m not pregnant. I want to prove that I don’t need alcohol. I want to see what effect giving up the booze for a bit has on me – on my mind, body, memory, happiness, stress, parenting, health, relationships, concentration, everything.
Who am I when you remove alcohol from me? How exactly do I get through witching hour without mummy’s little helper?
A common thing people tend to do when considering giving up alcohol is to think of all the ‘‘special’’ occasions they might have to be a part of without – hark – a glass of something woozyinducing in their hands.
I’ll admit, I did a virtual checklist in my head of upcoming celebrations in 2019 – weddings, birthdays, graduation – all happy, lovely occasions, but would they be any less so if I don’t drink?
And is it scary to think that I wouldn’t enjoy some of these things if I don’t drink? What does that say about me?
I’ve thought about this a lot and the more I did, the more I realised how deep I’ve gone into living in such an unconscious manner.
So come New Year’s Eve as I salute the farewelling of the Year of Horror, I will take my last sip of alcohol for some time – maybe a year, maybe shorter or maybe longer.
And cheers to that.
I want to prove that I don’t need alcohol.