When I drank, I drank a lot. I always maintained that I was a beeraholic not an alcoholic because there was wine in the cupboard and half a bottle of vodka on the shelf and surely if I was an alcoholic I would drink those as well.Wouldn’t I?
I wouldn’t have a beer until I was sure that I didn’t have to drive any where. I never drank and drive. Not because of any respect for the law but because I was crap at drink driving. The one time I drove drunk, I crashed the car. You really need lots of practice to be a good drunk driver and I am not that dedicated.
My blog personality is how I am in real life. I am funny and sweet, I am generous to a fault and I really am quite a nice person. I am well read and I can discuss anything from the breeding habits of snails to the reasons behind the sub-prime mortgage fiasco.I am impatient and demanding. My way is the best way(naturally.) I am opinionated and very loud. I am a control freak who doesn’t know how to delegate. I say outrageous things just for fun. Politically I am so far to the left that it is a wonder I dont walk with a tilt. I dont suffer fools and I will tell you, if you give me the shits.
I used to gather up strangers(mostly tourists) and bring them home for a meal but Jeffrey made me stop doing that. I pick up interesting looking hitch-hikers and sometimes I drive further than I intended because I am enjoying the conversation.Children and animals love me and I am a natural born storyteller.I could sell ice to eskimoes.I like to talk and sometimes I forget to listen. I am an Aquarian fire horse and when I am angry I stamp my foot and my nostrils flare, I fire up and explode. Then I am done and my anger is forgotten and I expect every one else to forgive and forget as quickly as I do.
Alcohol magnified all those traits by 100 and you either loved me or hated me. There was no middle ground. As a result I have some very very good friends and lots of aquaintances that think I am an arsehole.
I stopped drinking in April 2008. Anzac day is always a very emotional day for me and I would generally get rotten. I had been drinking beer all day and had topped up with nips of neat whiskey. That night I was a belligerent drunk and I had a nasty fight with my son. David walked down to his Nan’s at 1 am with me screaming at him to get back home and dont you walk away from me etc etc.
I woke up the next morning knowing something BAD had happened and then I started to remember bits and pieces of what had happened. Oh Shit.
I put off ringing Mum for as long as I could because I knew she would be furious with me. When I finally was brave enough to pick up the phone she didn’t disappoint one little bit. Furious wasn’t the word. Mums anger was icy and terrible.
David came home later on that day and I apologised to him and we held each other close.
I didn’t make a conscious decision that day not to drink again, it just sort of happened. One day turned into two, turned into a week turned into a month. When people would ask me why I had stopped drinking, I would make some flippant reply because I was ashamed of the real reason I stopped. I had done something that I swore I would never do, I had become my father.I had hurt my son. Luckily the damage wasn’t irrepairable but his wounds were deep.
I avoided my Mother because I was ashamed. I reluctantly visited her on Mothers day and we didn’t speak about Anzac day but it was there, the elephant in the room.
Six weeks later Mum was diagnosed with cancer and there is nothing like a life threatening illness to make you sort out your priorities. The elephant vanished with a pop and we embarked upon the next stage of our relationship.
I dont know how many times I said to Veronica. “I am so pleased that I am not drinking” and her reply was always, “We are so pleased you are not drinking as well.”
to be continued…