Christmas that is. It’s been coming at us like a runaway freight train … and now it’s here. Airports are bursting at the seams … the highways are chocka with cars … familiar faces are arriving at the door step … spare beds are being filled … and our delicate sober bubbles are being poked, prodded and pricked.
There’s no doubt this is a really tricky time of year. Not only because every bloody event seems to revolve around booze, but because we’re being put back into contact with relations we don’t see all the time.
And sometimes they say and do things that irk a bit, or hurt a bit, or annoy a bit. They don’t mean to.. they might genuinely be asking questions not knowing that it’s difficult to answer, or they might be remembering you incorrectly, or just not thinking about you that hard because they’re pre-occupied with their own shit.
There’s a lot of just basically having to let things slide. Let it wash off. Let it blow out into the wind, down the road and around the corner.
If I’m away from home I always try to think back to my lovely environment and know that I will be back there soon, in my personal space with my routines, my comforts, and my coping mechanisms.
Or if I’m at home and hosting I try to think that before I know it everyone will be gone and I’ll be back in my personal rhythm .
But lets be brutally honest – because there is no denying it – it’s bloody hard to be around people who are drinking habitually and steadily when you are sober. It is just hard to have to be around that for a prolonged number of days.
I have put together my Sober First Aid Kit. Inside a cute pencil-case-shaped purse (floral and orange) I have placed a lovely smooth stone my sister gave me (it has a meaning, I can’t remember it now but it’s from her which makes it special to me, and it’s a nice cold sphere to hold in my hand), my sobriety necklace with my sober date on it (September 6, 2011), a locket with photos of my grandparents in it, a shell I found on the beach the day I decided I was an alcoholic, some chocolates, a sprig of rosemary, and a handkerchief that belonged to my grandmother-in-law. Putting it together felt bloody amazing, I highly recommend it. And it’s great to have in my handbag right now.
Go well, people. We can do this. We’ve all got each others backs. Sober is the way to go.
Love, Mrs D xxx