Some of you may be wondering how my weekend was - after all the debate of the Hall Pass - did I use it?
Those of you who know me don't even need to ask that question.
Of COURSE I used it. I was sat in a room full of people dressed to the hilt, throwing back champagne with gay abandon, and I DRANK DAMMIT.
I didnt drink a lot, only a few glasses of Veuve (well, it was Veuve, dahling!) and partied for a few hours with a fun crowd. Home I went, feeling very good about the night.
Then, I felt it. The wobbling of the foundations. The slight slurring of the words. The maelstrom in my belly. Good lord, I was drunk.
My long suffering boyfriend found me in the shower, trying to wash the drunkeness away. Trying to understand why I was crying with disappointment. Trying to take back the night, and figure out where I went wrong. Trying to pinpoint how I went from mildly buzzed two minutes ago to a shivering, tearful wreck.
The monster said "Just throw up and you'll feel better. Here, have a glass of water and some panadol."
I gulped it down, greedy to begin recuperating. Happy to just forget the night, and welcome sobriety back with open arms. Then my stomach lurched again. "You'd better leave", I told the monster. Then proceeded to hurl up a weeks worth of past meals.
(After discussing this with Nathan earlier today, he suggested it was probably my stomach lining coming up, protesting any form of alcohol. This totally makes sense. The few drinks I drank on that night, stretched over 6 hours would normally not even be enough to make me tipsy, let alone weepy and sick.)
I crawled into bed, bedraggled and pathetic. With my mind racing, and my head still spinning, I slept a dreamless sleep.
The next morning I gingerly arose and ran straight back for the shower. I still felt dirty and ashamed at being hungover. More so, The Monster was going to have to handle my hangovers, which are legendary. He should hide all glass and delicate items, lest I storm the house looking for something to break and throw at his hapless, fast retreating figure.
It was not a good day for me. I was wretched with nausea, wracked with guilt. (I also pinpointed that I had eaten something off, so this explained the extreme abdominal upheaval.)
I'd lost control - after almost a month of restriction, discipline and will power, I'd gone and lost control.
In a way though, as all good lessons are forced to be learnt, I hope I did learn something from this.
*Always eat beforehand. Even if you do throw up, its better tp have something in there, than a convulsing empty stomach.
*Have a glass of water in between alcoholic drinks. So what if your friends jeer at you for having water - unless they want to come over the next day and hide me from sunlight, noises and any sort of movement (including breathing), they can shove it.
*Don't mix your drinks. Once you move to something else, stick with it.
*Pace yourself. The bar isnt going anywhere - and if it is, then you've probably had to much already.
Nathan and I are going out to dinner this Thursday, to quietly toast the fact that we stuck to our goal of one month booze free (some better than others, yes yes.....). We really have come a long way, even if we didnt last the entire month, we learnt so much about ourselves (some things we thought we had buried) and discovered that our inner strength doesnt have to have a foundation built of inebriation.
We still have a few more days to go, and then the big one is coming up - The 11th Annual ITS Xmas Party. Where we've been known to start drinking in the morning in preperation. Where we've snuck spirits onto the boat because we were worried we might not have enough. Where we give the platters of food a cursory glance on our way to the bar.
This year I think I'll make myself eat first before starting to drink. Limit myself to one or two drinks an hour, and have water every second or third drink. Common sense really.
Because you know what? Im not going to win any awards for being the fastest to get drunk. (Although I may win the Colossal Titty Award for being the most drunk, but thats neither here nor there.) Why risk writing myself off this time when at a slow and steady pace, I will be happy, somewhat in control.
It's a nice feeling, this control thing.
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