813. Pink fluffy landmarks

I have definitely done pink fluffy clouds before…. And they deserve another mention. They are not a totally every day occurrence. They are more like a general air about the place. I have slowly but surely…. over the 813 booze free days that I have lived…..installed some points into my life. In French the word is repères – if I am not mistaken with the accents… this means landmarks or points along a way to show the way. I have been thinking about these repères a lot. The word landmarks does not quite cover it for me… but my thoughts were along the lines of this.

When we have the head space and inner calm that comes from longer term sobriety we can really put down points in our hours, days and thus lives upon which we can build. They give our lives a shape and a structure. One of these landmark repère things is my morning routine. I have built this in slowly and it is now fairly established. Up early (because I can) have my meditation/silence… write my journal or morning pages (thanks Julia Cameron from Artists Way) and once that is done I put my gorgeous coffee on the stove and it takes about 10 minutes to brew, during which time I do my little made up by me yoga stretches.

This is such a good set up for my day. It is a point around which I can work. It clears my head, does some inner housekeeping if you like, and then I am stretched (tick trying to look after body after 50 especially because I have largely ignored that for a most of my adult life) I then enter the day feeling really good.

I am sure that having a ”practice” of sorts makes for the pink fluffy clouds that I feel around me most of the time. I promise to say (and usually do) when this is not the case. But there is a groundedness and peace that comes from starting my day like this.

If want to think more about making landmarks or repères around which we build to give our lives shape. I want to live a shaped life that is deliberate. I spent so many years winging it (though to be fair I still wing certain things) and just kind of hanging in there. Now I feel that I am more in charge. Not in control you understand… an impossible thing… but just taking charge and responsibility.

There we are those are my thoughts for today. Thanks to the new subscribers… And hi to you all

Love me.

791. Stationary bike vs free bike

Hello all! I am 9 days away from 800 days. I am so grateful. I was thinking the other day that while I was drinking life was not a huge train wreck 100% of the time. It was a good life and I did get some stuff done and achieved and so on… but I always had this feeling I was pedalling away at 90 miles/hour getting nowhere very fast. Always playing catch up… always just behind this self-imposed drag curve.

Not drinking is like this. I am on a big white bike with a comfy saddle. I have a basket on the front, and I have great gears. There is a little set of bike balls hanging off the back to signal my presence in the dark. The tyres are pumped, the bike is clean and I am sailing along on my trusty steed.

It is that different.

I can get up early EVERY SINGLE day. I feel literally energetic EVERY SINGLE day. I am getting so much done, I am generally very reliable. I have money in my pocket (and a tiger in my tank) and I’m king of the road again!

Try it.

777. Seems like a jackpot

I am feeling the fallout around me from booze. Friends, strangers, family ….having the life doused out of them because of booze. it’s insane grip is very hard to shake off. Stealing the best from the people in its thrall. Just do it with all the support you can lay your hands on. Let go for a short committed time.

776. Small flames

We cannot know the huge reality. We can only use words and metaphors to describe our experience and then see if these are common with others and in this way try to make sense of our worlds, inner and outer.

I think that within every living thing is this spark of life. Call it what you will, Spirit, God, Chi, Third Eye and so on. But it is there. In me it is a little flame and a little tiny seedling. It is not easy to access this little piece of the whole of reality that is really us. But we can be aware of it. Certain things spark it up. When certainly know when it is activated. This little seedling is our True Self. The Self that has nothing to do with outward appearance, what we have gained in terms of wealth or not gained. How well we did at school, or not. Our jobs, our status in our community etc. Those are our outer shell if you like. This inner life is there inside every human (I’d say every living thing but because I am a human I can only speak from this perspective).

Over-drinking can never put this out or totally drown the seedling, but it makes it very difficult to grow that part of ourselves.

All my drinking days I had this tiny knock, knock, knock on my heart. Sometimes barely discernible, sometimes loud and insistent. “Drink less, leave the stuff alone, drink less, put it down. Stop“. And when I say all my drinking days, I mean it. I have diaries from 17, 18 years old where the issue raised its head. It was my Chi (if you like) the Real Me, trying to tell me my Truth. I was never a content over-drinker. I was restless and uneasy in my role, yet I ploughed on and on too afraid to let it go.

When we stop dowsing, squashing, drowning the little Voice, the Chi, the Holy Spirit, it can get some air and we can feed it. And it can grow. And what controls us can change. And we can be free.

Happy Sunday.

757. Goodbye letter. Dear John….


I wrote the following about a year after I stopped drinking.  I came across it on the website that publishes these kind of letters.  It is still relevant.  Even though I can honestly say, hand on heart, I still don’t think I was an alcoholic.  I was someone who just did not stop easily.  Sometimes I did, but often not.  I think I put it up before… not sure.  But worth another read.

Dear Alcohol,

Well this is it.  I wanted to say a proper goodbye.  I’ve not seen you for a year now, and to be honest, I have not missed you.  We’ve been together for years.  Right back in those early days, when I was sixteen, you were there.  Alongside me helping me numb my sorrows about the folks’ divorce.  You helped me, at the time, it seemed so anyway.  You were my little shot of funny.  My tot of confidence and don’t give a shit-ness that I needed to navigate my late teens.

I got so used to you.  We used to see each other almost daily, from when I was eighteen onwards.  You went with me to nightclubs, my right-hand man. You gave me courage and confidence in the evenings, but the mornings were when you dulled my life, and tainted my waking up.

We carried on, all the way through meeting my Chris, you were there.  You were a big part of our relationship and you were with us most of the time we were together.  You were the main event at our family gatherings.  The one that everyone wanted there if a good time was to be had.  You were the centre of attention.  The main ingredient for sport, fun, relationships… anything.  Just add you and the magic started.

You were at our wedding, revving me up and giving the hilarity an edge.  I still have traces of you on my wedding dress. You are there for good.  The next day though, I was absolutely floored by the after effects of your presence.  You left your mark, lethargy, nausea, misery.  That was your calling card.  Time and time again you took more than you gave.

I tried to manage our contact, yours and mine.  I tried to ignore you for days at a time, weeks and months even.  I loved being away from you… but you always came back, whispering, promising the world.  Trying to make me believe I could not be without you.

I loved you, I really did.  You made me feel funny and young and beautiful.  Carefree and invincible.  You took the edge off my distress, you heightened my senses, made me relaxed and chilled out. But you also robbed my potential. You took the best of me and left me with the emptiness.  You stole happiness from ‘’tomorrow’’ countless times over the years.  And though you made out that you were helping me to be funny, sexy, outgoing and so on, you were a liar.  The connections made while you were around could be totally fake.  There were friends I could only be with in your presence, and without you we had nothing to say.  You lied to us all.  We are not braver with you.  We are not funnier with you.  Perhaps you break the ice… but usually you end up breaking the links that forge us. Locking us in our own world.

I thought I would miss you over the year.  I was scared to be without you.  But I love your absence.  Your departure has opened up many things for me.  The future seems full of potential.  I choose to go to bed the way I want to.  I choose to wake up feeling amazing.  With you there was a gloss of shame, a loss of integrity, a nagging feeling of wasting time.  I won’t say there have not been times when I want you back.  I want you taking that edge off my irritation.  I want you so I can feel like I fit in with the crowd, but those moments are nothing compared to the way I can look myself in the eye every day and feel proud of me.

You never caused me any major trouble, but just a steady chip chip chip away at what was the best in me.  Goodbye for now.  Maybe forever, who knows?  But definitely for now.  You have your uses, but they are shallow and short lived.  You have nothing to give me that I cannot get without you.  Goodbye.


2 years and 3 days.


i got HERE.  i GOT here.  I got here.  The terrified me.  The panic-ing me.  The ”my life is over if I don’t drink” me… we are here.  Thanks to those who read my blog, who supported me with lovely messages…

I think for me the most important thing I have learned, the one thing that I want to take away more than any other… is that I now CHOOSE how my day turns out.  Before, I was at the mercy of circumstance.  Maybe it would turn into a big night… maybe not…. I now don’t have that worry hanging over me.  I am choosing how I go to bed, and subsequently HOW I wake up.  My life has an intentionality about it now that it is not left to random chance, roll of the dice of how rough I was going to feel the next day.

I choose life.

Contrary to thinking my life being over, my life is more productive, thought out, full, satisfying and connected than ever before.

TWO YEARS and counting.  I don’t think I’ll go back.

So grateful.



728. Two days till two years.



If two years is 730 days.  I have gone back – and if you can be bothered you should too – to two years ago on this blog!  I was gearing up, with much trepidation and fear, to plunge into my 100 day challenge….I wanted to

  • reset my balance
  • see if I could go one rotation round the sun without a drink
  • see if my life was significantly improved without booze
  • and drink like a normal person and never have a hangover

Those were my goals.

Now nearly two years down the line I can honestly say that yes, I have reset my balance – but not like I thought I would.  I thought I would reset and then drink moderately if I am honest.  I did go one rotation round the sun, and now almost two… My life has way way out of proportion improved without booze.  And well, I have no desire to drink at all because I just don’t drink like a normal person.  I never will.  It is 10 000 times easier not to drink at all than to juggle.

What I think.  Drinking is like a fun loving child, skipping along full of the joys… What you don’t know is that a mean scowling cruel person is holding their hand – a package deal.  The fun comes with a cost.  The fun is not unattached.  The fun is indelibly linked to nothing good.  Nothing.

An expensive, unhealthy, unproductive, bad decision making, violent (in some cases), sexually assaulting, (or maybe unwise sexual choosing), mentally draining, anxiety inducing entity is hanging onto the hand of the fun child… One does not come without the other.  Yes, maybe it is not always a bad thing, a few drinks, of course… I am not all doom and gloom, and killjoy, but rarely did I wake up and wish I had drank a little more the night before.

What I think.  I wake up every single day of my life with a zest for the day.  I don’t surface in a foggy, groggy, miserable heart sinking mood.  I don’t go, okay was out the last three nights, I am knackered….going out tonight…. I’ll take it easy.  Get there, the wine is cold, it is decent, the company is fun, and I’m ”fuck it” and I then don’t take it easy and end up drinking for days on end, burning myself out, being grumpy with my family, getting fat and bloated and feeling SHIT.  There is no planning, no worrying about how to get home, I can always pick up kids if needed every single day.  I am just a boss.


Happiest girl in the world.



709. Just popping in.


I think I am still amazed at how I, the lover extraordinaire of wine…. got to 709 days without it.  In fact, the lover of gin, the lover of aperol spritz, the odd beer, and on and on.  It really is possible for anyone.  I am grateful and delighted that I squeezed through that sober door, with massive reluctance and terror nearly two years ago.  Not in a million years would I dream this would be me.

To those of you out there who read this, and who are still teetering on the edge of giving up….The Door.  The door between the worlds is scary.  But the view from the other side is so different.  You need to give it 100 days.  For the proper benefits to sink in.  Why would I give up this life I have now for that old life of feeling shit.  Of just thinking about how little or much or when and what and who with I could drink …and so on and on.

I did struggle recently.  I was on holiday in Italy and  I was around power drinkers (only from my perspective you understand) glugging back what was my favourite wine… night after night after night after night.  I needed to go into that situation with more support.  And I will either not ever go into it again, or be certain I am in a position to escape if I need to.

I would not give up what I have now for one little night of blurring the edges.  No way José.  I am utterly free.  I love it.

Give it a go if you have not already.  And I will be happy to support you by email x

694. But I love drinking….


Don’t we all?  I loved drinking.  I loved the feeling of being awesome, young, beautiful, witty, and so on and so on…Drinking really is not the problem.

The aftermath is the problem.  Either one of the following scenarios could happen when I drank…. I could say, right, that’s it, I am off to bed.  Pour the rest of my wine down the sink and go to bed.  That did happen.  Or I could go (depending on mood) let’s open another …. and then carry on drinking.  Then perhaps sharp words and entrenched opinions would arise.  Or I would feel offended by a perceived slight by ones’ husband whilst doing the dishes… and go to bed muttering….Or I would go home mid afternoon and have a snooze (that is with a lunchtime rosé) and then feel groggy and flat the rest of the day.  Sometimes I would go to bed and take off the make up… that was a really good drinking night.  If I did not take off the make up… well that was not so good.

With the bad ones, the next morning would invariably be misery.  A slow burbling up to the surface of reality, and thick head, and crappy tasting mouth… the invisible audience in my head having a field day indicting me of war crimes…  The wondering if you’d upset so and so… or cringing at the memory of bumming ciggies off the kids friends…. eek. Or wishing you had not had the Deep Meaningful with so and so.  On and on it goes.  THIS IS THE TROUBLE WITH DRINKING.  Not the fun and imbibition at the start!  Nothing good ever comes after three glasses of wine.  Nothing.

Trouble is, as the third glass is draining down your throat your honestly think it is a great fun idea to carry on.  it is that stage in the evening…. where those ”what you think you look like vs reality” memes come alive!!



Heheheh…. ever been in the ladies and peered at your drunk self in the mirror and seen your hectic red wine lips and teeth??  Yeah?  Well that doesn’t happen to me any more…

So the upshot of this little post.

  1.  Never ever in a million years thought I would be nearly 700 days without a drink.
  2. Never in a million years thought it would be so nice to be 700 days without a drink.
  3. It was not the drinking that was the problem.  That was easy.
  4. It was what happened after…. and then after after

Love to you all xx


686. Learning leanings



Today a few of us non-boozers, and wannabe non-boozers met together just to see where were at after lockdown and so on.  We are a little group of woman (at the moment) and we have this lovely thing going.  There is no judgement, no shock, and just a sharing of ideas and experiences.  What strikes me is that wherever you are on the overdrinking spectrum – you a place in the not drinking group.  Some of us are over a year sober, some still about to try to get sober.  The goal is the same.  To go as many consecutive days as possible without drinking.

You can be hard at it or just unhappy with your little ”over-doing it” days, we are all equal.   It is so much easier knowing there are a few of us struggling with the same thing… and great to hear what helps each person.  It is an injection of encouragement to meet together.

Today I was reminded particularly about how hard the leap is to take.  The difference between the two sides of the ”fence”.  Drinking side, and non drinking side… it seems that there is such a massive gulf to cross.  And yet when you do… you realise that it is SO MUCH BETTER THIS SIDE than the drinking side.  And it does not turn out to be half as terrifying as one thinks.

It is immensely good to know there is a bunch of friends out there with the same goal.  Thanks to the handful of you.  I am so grateful.