Hello January :-))

At risk of sounding like a right old misery guts, I’m writing today to say that I am very happy to be properly back at work and saying farewell to Christmas for another year. As I launched a half-eaten box of mince pies into the bin this morning, it did cross my mind that maybe nobody likes Christmas all that much after all…

To put this into some context, I should point out that the main event of exchanging gifts, which for me entails watching my lovely girls rip open their presents with glee, is very nice, and something that I am more than happy to do. I also love the enforced downtime that the festive season brings with it, as I generally don’t get much time to relax and it definitely does me good to do so.

But what I hate is the fact that so many people feel extreme emotional pain at this time of year, for a number of reasons ranging from bereavement to broken relationships to things just not being where they hoped they would be. And neither do I like the pressure to be all Nigella-like in the kitchen (which in reality means you miss out on all the fun as you slog it out over a hot stove and a sink full of dirty pots). As a non-drinker, neither do I like the intense commercial push stemming from the alcohol industry, which results in millions downing more booze than anyone should ever do for their mental and physical health.

When all around us we see signs advertising Prosecco and craft gins, money off multiple bottles of wine at the supermarkets, great big cases of beer at knockdown prices…when magazines are filled with images of glamorous people daintily holding glasses of fizz at elegant Christmas parties, and ideas for disguising hangovers with luxury beauty treatments…when mainstream newspapers are publishing light-hearted articles about the best foods to eat on New Year’s Day when you are nursing a crippling hangover…when we consider all of these things, on top of the various reasons why December can be a cruel and painful month for so many people, is it any wonder that Christmas brings vast numbers to their knees, desperate for it all to be over and for January to get underway with its routine and normality? The temptation to join in and drink excessively can be overwhelming, especially for anyone living with an alcohol dependency.

Personally, I used to hate Christmas, as a drinker and then as a new non-drinker, but as the sober years have passed by it has become a time that I can enjoy for a few small benefits (as mentioned above). But it still strikes me every year that for many, many people, it is unwelcome, difficult and downright awful, and virtually impossible to escape for those who may secretly wish to do so. It isn’t OK to ditch Christmas – in the eyes of many it’s akin to turning down a wedding invitation. You just have to partake – stick a smile on your face and get on with it. And make sure you have fun…or else!

Midway through cooking Christmas dinner (I’m not a bad cook but it didn’t turn out all that great and I would have preferred to just eat a salad!), I began to daydream about lying on a hot beach somewhere, with a couple of Christmas presents to open followed by a nice swim and a read of a good book in the sunshine. Following on from the theme of my last blog about being true to yourself, I’m starting to think that next December, I may very well pursue this daydream…

Happy January 🙂

Good Decisions. Consistently.

Stopping drinking does not make life all better. The same old shit will still bug you, and your personality will remain pretty much intact (albeit you’ll probably become less down on yourself and more optimistic about things in general). The curveballs will continue to get thrown your way, and the opportunities that seem so close and within reach will still, on occasion, slip away from your grasp leaving you feeling cheated. Some people will still annoy you; things will still, sometimes, not go the way you want them to.

All of this is true. And yet, I found myself thinking a few days ago, ‘everything goes how I want it to nowadays; my life has become so simple to navigate’. So I started to ponder this a bit, why I had arrived at the conclusion that life is easy now that I’m a non-drinker. And here’s what I came up with.

When I drank, I made a lot of ill thought out decisions. These often did not end with the one initial bad decision but seemed to flow, catastrophically, into a maelstrom of dark consequences. Which, in turn, affected a whole host of other areas of my life, with similarly terrible results. It was the lack of consistency and complete inability to sit back and ruminate on anything that got me into so much bother. (And being drunk a lot.)

Think it? Do it. Feel it? Act on it. Say it. Do it. Think it? Go on and DO IT.

But now, I am calm. I am consistently calm. I’m a thinker. I contemplate. I empathise. I sit quietly with my thoughts before I act upon them.

This brings positive outcomes because my life is no longer a kamikaze frenzy of drunken behaviour. It’s well thought out. And a word that I keep returning to – it’s consistent. I often say that the thing I love the most about being a non-drinker is the clarity it brings, but I’m also extremely happy about another great benefit of this lifestyle, and that’s the level, steady consistency; the predictability, the lack of surprises. The reliability.

This is a good way to live. You get to plan and live a life that is less Russian Roulette and more Chess. You can think about your next move, and make it when you’ve weighed everything up. Partners are chosen because they’re who you really need and want; friends are made because you have solid things in common instead of merely a love of getting pissed; you can concentrate and apply yourself at work, meaning you give your best and excel. You just make better choices – all the time. Good decisions, consistently.

It’s good, this non-drinking life.

Shouting ‘I’m A Soberista!’ from the Rooftops

Sobriety was once a dirty word to me. Boring do-gooders avoided alcohol. Cool people drank, and drank a lot.

This was probably the biggest challenge for me in terms of deciding to stop drinking. I could not conceive of losing my ‘edge’ and metamorphosing into a quiet dullard who couldn’t let her hair down. I know I’m not alone in thinking these thoughts, and I often read about other people’s experiences with friends and family who are sceptical at best, or scathing and down right rude at worst, with regards to that person’s new non-boozy status.

What is it about alcohol that prompts people to share their opinion on whether or not we should be partaking in this national pastime? If I sat down for dinner with people I wasn’t overly familiar with and announced that I was a vegetarian, I would more than likely receive a lesser inquisition than if I declared my AF lifestyle and opted for a mineral water amongst the truckload of wine being delivered by the attentive waiter. But why do other people care so much about our drinking habits? Could it be that they don’t wish to draw attention to their own alcohol consumption? Generally, I’ve found that the people who have the least to say about me being a non-drinker are the ones who barely drink themselves, the ones who most definitely have not got any issues with alcohol.

Anyway, the point of the above observations is that society frequently has a tendency to be more accepting of heavy drinkers than those of us who opt for an AF life, and this can be a major obstacle in quitting. Peer pressure and the desire to fit in can contribute massively to ‘wobbles’ and, ultimately, to caving in and having a drink. In order to stay true to the path of sobriety, therefore, it is vital that we believe in the alcohol-free way. And I mean, really believe in it – to find it an aspirational way of life, fall in love with it, want it more than anything, and be proud to tell anyone who listens, “No thanks, I do not drink”.

I did not feel this way about not drinking until at least eighteen months into my sobriety. I was ashamed of my problem, angry because I ‘wasn’t allowed to drink’, lonely and full of regret. But eventually, something clicked inside me and all the monumental benefits of being a non-drinker dawned on me. What the hell was I being so negative about? Where is the need to feel demeaned by a choice that will provide me (and my family and friends too) with a far happier and healthier life? Why be secretive about declining to consume an addictive substance that consistently made me fat and act foolishly, which caused me to hurt both myself and those I love, which damaged my mental and physical health and routinely put the brakes on all my hopes and dreams for future happiness?

When you think about it, becoming AF is a lifestyle choice that we should be shouting from the rooftops! These days I am supremely proud of being a non-drinker, to the point of being a bit smug. I like the fact that I am in good shape, that I am the best person I can be in all areas of my life (well, maybe there’s a little room for improvement here and there, but things are eminently better than in boozy days gone by!). I am not apologetic in the slightest about my choice to not drink alcohol, and when people ask me why I am on the mineral water I just tell them the truth: For me, one glass always led to another, and another, and the fall-out from drinking was too much. I’m so much happier being a Soberista.

That Was Then And This Is Now – Sober Reflections

I have experienced a multitude of emotions with regards to alcohol since I last drank the stuff in 2011. At first I missed it dreadfully, and the love and devotion that I initially harboured towards my old friend, wine, eventually led to the idea behind my first book, The Sober Revolution (co-written by Sarah Turner). The book depicts booze as the wayward lover – not to be trusted, although deeply enchanting and difficult to extrapolate one’s self from.

A few months down the sober road, I remember becoming increasingly bitter towards booze, and angry at the alcohol industry for misrepresenting their products. It seemed that everywhere I looked there were adverts featuring glamorous, happy people enjoying a drink and not suffering any of the associated horrors that had become so firmly entrenched in my own experience of alcohol use. Where were the images of people collapsing in the street? The facial features that had drooped with alcoholic drowsiness? Why was nobody being honest about the effects this addictive substance was having upon such a large percentage of the population?

Eventually, I started to feel more positive about living life as a non-drinker. I recognised that not everyone has the same destructive relationship as I did with booze, although a deep mistrust of alcohol and those who sell it has remained with me. This is something which I feel has helped me enormously in staying on the sober road; whilst bitterness and anger are not emotions that we should embrace forever, a certain degree of ‘fighting back’ after years of being manipulated and possessed by alcohol is crucial (in my humble opinion) in building up an emotional resistance to this so-commonly accepted drug.

Me now, a happy Soberista

In my third year of sobriety, everything settled down and became entirely normal. I no longer missed drinking at all, and had most definitely carved out a new identity for myself based on real things that matter, as opposed to the ghost-like fantasies that heavy alcohol consumption frequently initiates. I could say at that point that I knew myself, was aware of my foibles and strengths, had a healthy level of self-esteem, felt committed to the things in my life that I cared about, and had the confidence to believe in who I was and where I was heading. The self-loathing and regrets had long since fallen by the wayside and I had finally, at the age of thirty-eight, begun to enjoy living in the real world – with all of its challenges, ups and downs, and beauty. That was when I noticed a new sense of optimism in myself, a solid belief in things turning out OK. That in itself was a revelation, as previously I had always assumed everything would go wrong in my life.

And now, with hindsight, I often look back on my drinking years with an intense desire to gently put an arm around myself and whisper, ‘You don’t actually need alcohol to be OK. Your life would be much better without it.’ And then I feel an enormous sense of relief that I came to realise that my relationship with alcohol would never have changed – that off-switch would never have materialised, and my life would most definitely have continued to be characterised by shameful situations, wasted weekends and regrets so huge that they ate away at my soul.

Thank God I saw all of that. Thank God I became a Soberista.

Looking For A Challenge? It’s Soberistas31 Time Again!

By the time I hit my teens, alcohol and rebellion were inextricably linked in my mind. Without a shadow of a doubt, I held fast to the notion that there was no better way to express my desire to shirk convention and rebuff authority than to drink excessive amounts as frequently as possible. This mental link between booze and my rebellious nature was to stay with me right up until my mid-thirties when, despite being a mother and living in a nice, respectable part of town where I quaffed expensive bottles of wine, I still regarded myself as possessing an insubordinate streak.

And when I decided to stop drinking altogether, a major quandary that arose was how I would manage to cling onto my wayward, headstrong personality minus the very obvious method of evidencing it that was drinking too much. It occurred to me that much of the way I expressed myself had always come in the shape of a bottle or glass, and I stalled for a while in knowing how I should act without such props.

Gradually, I began to really take on board how many people drink alcohol to excess; what a massive element of almost everyone’s life booze is, to some degree or another. Maybe they weren’t all getting hammered to the point of blacking out as I once was, but most were certainly unable to conceive of experiencing birthdays, Christmases, weddings, Friday nights, Saturday nights and holidays without the booze flowing fairly freely. As a non-drinker, I saw this excessive consumption with a heightened awareness and developed a growing understanding of the manipulative strength of the alcohol industry – an industry that spends millions trying to coax us all to drink yet more booze each year.

As time has gone on, I have rediscovered my ‘inner rebel’ as I now recognise that by not drinking, I am acting in an unconventional manner with far greater magnitude than I did previously. As a drinker, I was merely yet another person who regularly numbed her senses with alcohol. Now I stand out, I am different.

In a few days, the onslaught of Christmas parties will begin. For a whole month, people all over the Western world will drink huge amounts of booze in the name of ‘fun’ and will embarrass themselves, spend more money than they had hoped to, and wake up on January 1^st a few pounds heavier and looking somewhat the worse for wear.

But there will be a small but significant minority who won’t engage in such behaviour.

Those who don’t drink will focus on things other than booze during the Christmas period; family, good food, enjoying a rest from work, a little extra time to indulge in some of the things they love doing. They won’t be struggling to cope with debilitating hangovers at 5 am on Christmas Day whilst trying to stay upbeat for the kids. They won’t be desperately trying to recall the horrors they may have been involved in at a party, one that they have no memory of due to a blackout striking mid-evening. And when January rolls around, they won’t be committing to a restrictive detox diet in a bid to shed the extra weight they have gained through drinking too much wine over the festive period.

I take a lot of comfort from the knowledge that I am, in my mind at least, a little unconventional. It helped me enormously during the earlier days of my not drinking, providing me with an extra dose of motivation whenever a craving hit. And now when I see people loading their excessive booze purchases onto the supermarket conveyer belts, I ponder over what better things they could be spending their hard-earned money on than lining the pockets of the fat cats of the alcohol industry – the corporate giants who are simply rubbing their hands with glee, especially at this time of year.

If you would like to challenge the norm this year, why not commit to Soberistas31 (see the details here) and opt to NOT drink alcohol for the month of December? Donate the money you would have spent on booze to the very deserving charity Rainbow Trust on January 1^st via our JustGiving page (details will be provided on Soberistas towards the end of December) and know that this year you will have spent your money wisely, looked after yourself, and given Christmas 2014 your all.

Need a Reminder? Here are 10 good reasons for going alcohol-free!

1. Cutting alcohol out of your life helps build your self-esteem; never doing or saying things that you will later regret is a brilliant way of feeling back in control of your life, thus boosting your self-confidence.

2. When you drink every night, you lose vast swathes of time – if you have your first glass at 7 pm and continue to sip away all night until 11 pm, then over a week you’ll have waved goodbye to almost 30 hours of spare time which could have been put to good use.

3. Alcohol is no friend to your looks – within days of quitting drinking you’ll have brighter eyes, healthier looking skin and will notice a reduction in facial puffiness.

4. One bottle of wine contains between 600 and 700 calories; that’s equivalent to three Cornetto ice creams, or an extra evening meal on top of the dinner you’ve already scoffed! Maintaining weight is much easier for those who don’t drink alcohol.

5. I stopped drinking three and a half years ago, and in that time I estimate that I’ve saved approximately £15,000 (the sum total of money I would have wasted on wine, fags, and taxis – the price of a car). Instead, I have been able to buy lots of lovely stuff that I can actually remember and appreciate for days, months or years after making the purchase!

6. Since I was a child I always wanted to be a writer but never managed to get more than a couple of chapters down in my drinking days. Just a couple of years after becoming teetotal I had three books published (The Sober Revolution and Your 6 Week Plan, co-written with Sarah Turner, and Glass Half Full), and my fourth is due out this autumn. I can now demonstrate dedication and commitment – qualities that perennially escaped me as a boozer.

7. Categorically I am a MUCH better parent as a non-drinker – end of story.

8. Depression, anxiety and panic attacks are all a (horrible) distant memory – since eradicating booze from my life I generally feel optimistic and happy, and the mood swings have disappeared for good.

9. Drinking regularly and heavily prevented me from seeing how big the world is, and how much there is to explore within it – as a non-drinker I get to feel the magic of life untainted by booze, and my horizons have stretched massively.

10. Embarking on an alcohol-free life has opened up the door to self-discovery; I have found out more about the person I am in the three and a half years since I quit drinking than I did in any of the previous thirty five years of my life.

The Elusive Off Switch

Why Don’t I Have an Off Switch?

I used to ask myself this question a lot as a drinker. I couldn’t wrap my head around the idea that other people could manage to enjoy a few drinks, even becoming quite obviously drunk, but then always and reliably be able to count on themselves to call it a night at the appropriate time.

Not me. At two, three, even four o’clock in the morning and with all manner of challenges facing me the following day from the everyday demands of being a mother, to postgraduate level degree examinations, to job interviews, to packing and setting off on holidays, I would regularly be scouring the cupboards in the hope of discovering a long-forgotten bottle. I once happened upon a beer delivery service when a flier dropped through my letterbox; the answer to my prayers, here was a bloke who drove about during the night dropping off an array of alcoholic beverages and packets of cigarettes to all those (like me) who were after ‘just one more’ in exchange for a slightly inflated charge and a drunken display of gratitude.

For many years I struggled with the knowledge that, on occasion, I went way too far with regards to my alcohol consumption. Regrettable ‘romantic’ encounters, throwing up and destroying yet another carpet, dramatic tumbles ensuing in large, unsightly bruises oddly located around my body – whenever these things happened, I knew I had no off switch. And yet, because such terrible instances did not arise out of every single drinking episode, I was able to reassure myself that when they did, they were one-offs, oddities, freak incidents that could happen to anyone who enjoyed alcohol.

My booze-related accidents were something I accepted as part and parcel of a drinking lifestyle. And in between times, when I did display something akin to an off switch and managed to get myself to bed prior to anything horrific taking place, I comforted myself with the belief that I was, after all, the same as everyone else; I was able to act responsibly, at least some of the time.

For me, drinking was, essentially, a game of Russian roulette. Whenever I picked up the first drink of the evening, I was entirely unaware of how things would pan out. I did not know whether this would be a night when I’d have a few drinks but would then remember that I needed to down some water and go to sleep, because otherwise tomorrow would be hell on earth. I did not know if I would throw caution to the wind and find myself ringing the beer delivery man at two in the morning, holed up in some stranger’s house, smoking and drinking until dawn broke.

I desperately wanted to know why I didn’t have a reliable off switch, but for twenty years I could not simply accept the fact that I didn’t. On my final night of drinking, my off switch finally gave up the ghost. This facility that many people have and which enables them to ‘drink responsibly’ fizzed and popped and eventually blew up altogether. I was like a dog with no concept of having its appetite satisfied – the more booze I could lay my hands on, the more I poured down my neck. And on and on I went, until finally, with the expiration of that little switch, I fell unconscious and wound up in hospital.

I am glad that my little faulty off switch ultimately died for ever. It made everything so straightforward, so black and white. After I quit drinking, I stopped asking myself why I did not have the ability to stop drinking at the optimum point in the night, and instead, threw myself into being a person who just doesn’t drink alcohol. I no longer have to worry whether my off switch will be functioning when I go out socially, and there are no more awful ripples of disaster to have to cope with because it failed to work properly. It’s existence, broken or not, is simply of no concern to me anymore. And that’s the way I like it.

Soberistas Survey Results, Webinars and Meet-Ups!

We had hundreds of responses to the recent survey we carried out on Soberistas, so a big thanks to all those who took a few minutes to complete our questionnaire. There were several key areas that we wanted to discover your views on, including webinars and physical meet ups. Taking into consideration everything you told us (and we were thrilled to find out that, according to many of those who answered the survey questions, we do appear to be getting most things right!), we are now in the early planning stages of the official Soberistas meet-ups. Watch this space for more information (we are looking at the end of November for our first one) about these.

Tonight, all our paying members (who took out a subscription prior to the evening of Monday 28^th July) will be able to access the first of our webinar series – hosted by Dr Julia Sinclair, Soberistas’ resident addictions specialist doctor. Those who have taken out a membership since that time will be able to access the next of our webinars, which will be taking place on August 31 (and subsequent ones thereafter).

In the recent Soberistas survey you told us that you were equally interested in the subjects of health, fitness, alcohol-related medical issues, personal experiences of alcohol dependency and life coaching, with regards to future webinar content. Bearing this in mind we have lined up some fantastic experts over the coming months who will all be delivering a presentation followed by a short Q&A session. And if you can’t make the allotted time slot for the live presentations, you’ll be able to watch at your own convenience any time after the events have taken place.

So, a bit of information about our next webinar; Fitness, health & lifestyle coach, presenter, writer & motivator and a regular presenter on BBC Radio Oxford, George Anderson will be delivering a webinar about ‘clean eating’ and how the elimination of toxins from our diet (including, obviously, alcohol!) can result in weight loss, a more even mood, and increased energy. George has signed up to run ten marathons in ten days in September, so he definitely knows how to get a body in shape! We’ve timed this webinar to fit in with the post-summer assessments we often make of our lifestyles following the indulgences of the summer break.  

Tonight’s webinar will kick off at 8 pm, introduced by me (Lucy) and then moving straight on to Dr Julia’s key discussion points, including;

What is alcohol dependence?
Can I just stop?
How can I cut down safely?
How do I work out how much I am actually drinking?
What is a detox?
What is rehab?
Isn’t it all just about will power?
Why am I so tired despite stopping drinking?
What about my mood?
Will my panic attacks go away?

We hope you can join us tonight, and that you’ll really enjoy the Soberistas webinar series. Don’t forget that if you become a paying member before 6 pm on Monday August 25^th 2014, you’ll be able to access our future webinars, including the next one by George Anderson.

It’s a Nice Day for a White Wedding – How to Face Weddings Sober

Weddings often make you think of booze, and can cause some people to worry about attending as a healthy non-drinker. This acrostic poem is designed to help in a fear-of-weddings-when-sober type situation. Read on for some positive thinking, to embrace the night before the nuptials.

Eat whatever the hell you like and when everyone else is harping on about the number of calories in the decadent trio of puddings and mammoth cheese board, smile smugly and remind yourself you’ve banked at least a thousand spare calories by not drinking all day.

Dancing when hammered ain’t a good look. Drunken twerking, overly-sexy hip sashaying, arms locked around some slobbering bloke’s (who is on the verge of collapse) neck – the photos or, far worse, the video of any of the above behaviour at the evening’s disco would make you howl with shame.

Don’t forget that by not drinking YOU will remember all the good times – when everyone else is attempting to piece together the night’s events through an agonising hangover, you will be able to fully recall the Best Man’s (ahem, hilarious) speech, relive the bride and groom’s romantic first dance, and remember all the conversations you enjoyed with family and friends.

Instead of thinking you’ll be missing out, give yourself a sharp pinch and get back into reality – if you have always struggled to moderate your alcohol consumption, then going to a wedding and drinking alcohol amounts to social suicide! You’ll get hammered, and you won’t be able to sip daintily (as you may hope) from a glass of Champagne once every couple of hours until you feel the slightest fuzz of inebriation. Be honest, you’ll drink like a fish and be sozzled by dinner. The evening will then disintegrate into your worst nightmare (at least if you are anything like me, this WILL happen).

No, no, no. Weddings are NOT about alcohol; they are about love, commitment and family. Rethink what you have been told since childhood and repeat after me. Weddings are about LOVE.

Go to the wedding looking gorgeous. Spend a bit of cash on a fabulous outfit, a damn fine blow dry and a lovely pair of shoes. Plough your energy into looking your best and you’ll be smiling all day.

Sobriety takes a lot of getting used to. There will be ‘firsts’ to get through for a long while to come – first Christmas, first birthday, first wedding ceremony, first pop concert. But each time you tackle the challenge of a ‘first’ you will be making your next such event that bit easier. By the time you’ve done your third wedding sober it will feel entirely natural. And remember, the anticipation of any type of social occasion because you no longer drink will almost always feel worse than the event itself. There are of course the exceptions when you’ll find yourself at the wedding from hell, but hey, if you were drinking then it would still be the wedding from hell – only you’d have an almighty hangover and a truck load of embarrassing incidents to deal with too.

Don’t white knuckle it this weekend!

It’s Friday, the beginning of the weekend and the start of (for many) the really difficult and persistent cravings. Monday to Thursday you’re flying high, with work commitments, appointments and a desire to be productive all adding weight to your alcohol-free intentions. And then somewhere, sometime, perhaps on Thursday evening as you slowly acknowledge the fact that the next day marks the start of the weekend, the idea that one or two alcoholic drinks could be a good thing creeps into your conscience.

By Friday morning it’s almost a done deal; the cravings kick in with super strength and the will to remain on an even keel, to be ‘good’, begins to wither away like a wilting bloom.

So, is it possible to maintain the desire to remain alcohol-free, right through the weekend? Yes, it most definitely is, and here are a few pointers for getting you safely to Sunday evening where you will feel very proud of yourself for resisting all temptation;

a) Don’t just THINK positive but VISUALISE positive – imagine yourself spending Friday night enjoying whatever you want to do, only without alcohol poisoning your body and your mind. When we picture ourselves doing something it becomes easier to do it in real life. Map out how you want to spend the entire weekend, and cover the most mundane elements too – observe in your mind this imaginary you going about your weekend MINUS any alcohol, and being content and HAPPY.
b) Plan something to do on Saturday and Sunday mornings that would be seriously impaired if you had a hangover. Ideally, make these activities stuff to do with a friend or family member; that way you’ll have an extra incentive to stay alcohol-free so as not to let that person down by calling it off due to the physical effects of excessive drinking.
c) Accept that life will be different as a non-drinker, but think this through carefully. Apply yourself – what are you scared of? Why would spending time without alcohol be so awful? What’s the worst that can happen? If you think logically you’ll recognise that the bad things happen when we get drunk. Take away the booze and life is calmer, more manageable and easier.
d) You know that you want to quit drinking otherwise you would never have joined Soberistas. But now you are fighting with yourself internally because you desire the very thing (i.e. booze) that you, up until now, so desperately wanted out of your life. These inner tantrums are easy to put an end to – tell yourself ‘Yes, I can have a drink. If I choose to, there’s nobody who can make me not drink alcohol tonight’. Because there IS nobody but YOU who can make that decision – take away the notion of ‘can’t’ and accept that you can CHOOSE to drink if you want. But DO you want everything that is ALWAYS AND INEXTRICABLY linked with drinking? That’s the real question – which brings us onto point e)…
e) Make a list of the reasons why you want to quit drinking. Now add all the reasons why you think you want to drink this weekend. Which list is longer? Which sounds more like the real you? Which list do you think makes the most sense?
f) Finally go back to point a). Picture yourself waking up on Saturday morning after a great night’s sleep, no hangover and with complete freedom to do exactly what you want without the inconvenience and debilitating effects of a hangover. Acknowledge how much more time you will have when half the weekend isn’t spent lying in a darkened room hating yourself. Visualise the money you will save by choosing to stay alcohol-free. Picture yourself happy and well on Sunday night, enjoying all the positive consequences of CHOOSING NOT TO DRINK.
And now remind yourself that you are capable of all of this, and much, much more.