sorry, sorry, sorry….

lots of thinking going on here in the last few days. have been doing manual tasks which lend themselves to contemplation, and also to listening to sober podcasts – which are very very good for my sober head, as they allow me to ponder without descending to squirreldom, which is where I was in the early part of the week (thank you, lady hormones! can you very kindly fuck the fuck right off now and leave me alone?) where was I? oh dear, can tell this is going to be one of those rambling posts…

the title I first thought of for this post, incidentally, was ‘going big in recovery’. sorry for that, too 🙂

that’s a phrase of Patrick’s at spiritual river, by the way. there’s a great post from him here on it. he’s very emphatic so proceed with caution if you’re feeling wobbly – but great if you need a pep-talk/kick up the arse.

but anyway what first drew me to the image above was thinking about when I decided to stop drinking, and how drinking was presenting in my life.

alcohol was the dog turd in the middle of my sitting room floor.

you have seen my not-my-garage so you know Mr Spick and Mr Span are not just infrequent visitors to my house, they don’t have my postcode and can’t find it on the Tidy Bus satnav. but even I would clear up a dog turd in the middle of my sitting room floor as soon as I saw it.

but that is not what I was doing with alcohol. I was carefully moving it around but still giving it house room. would it be less visible behind the armchair? or maybe in a different room? or perhaps I should buy new sofa cushions (aka concentrate on losing ten pounds) and see if that distracts from it?

nope. curled turd still steaming, not-so-gently now. not magically becoming an acceptable ornament on the mantlepiece, the longer I left it. in fact getting worse, every day. until the only thing to do was to get the fucker out of my life completely. no excuses. no way back in. out.

and so I did/do. thank God. and it was/is difficult, but worth everything it took.

but what I want to talk about now is shovels.

when I began this I was really, really determined. but because I am an idiot I tried to do it with the tiniest feasible shovel. my shovel was Belle and the 100 day challenge. which is superb, highly recommended, owe her my life (not even exaggerating the teeniest bit). it was a shovel because it involved another person. not just sitting on my sofa thinking about it, or reading recovery literature – reaching out and contacting another person.

but I didn’t do any of her extra classes. why not? because I was saving them for later if it turned out I needed them *bangs forehead on kitchen table*

same with her podcasts. and the Bubble Hour podcasts. and Soberistas. and the Booze Free Brigade Facebook group. and Mumsnet. and AA. and seeing the doctor about my crazy hormones. and therapy. and actually DOING yoga, or meditation, as opposed to leaving the DVD or podcast carefully where it is in the cupboard/laptop. and some of this is not wanting to be drawn too much into the internet rabbit hole because (as you can probably tell by my frequent presence here!) I know that’s a thang for me.

but much of it is simply an aversion to seeking help. a wish to get by on the absolute minimum. which is just bonkers. how much easier would my first three months had been if I had got involved in all of those facilities at once? and yes I got through without them, but suppose I could have made it easier on myself? and how many people fall by the wayside by making it too difficult for themselves by doing that?

the thing that made me laugh yesterday was flicking back through some old Bubble Hour podcasts, and my decision not to listen to their podcast ‘Let’s Talk About Asking For Help” because….“I don’t need any help with that….” honestly. that was the thought voiced in my head. c’mon Primrose, what ARE YOU LIKE???!!!

and also wanted to emphasise something that I told a wise sober pen pal recently – so many times when I am making encouraging statements on this blog (nearly always, in fact) I am not preaching to the readers from on high as Moses on the mountain – I am trying to ding this vital information into mine own very little brain. both at the time of writing, and as a resource for myself in the future, when I re-read it. so thank you for reading my self-talk and if it has any benefit to you then that is a delightful bonus!

so, message to me and to you if applicable – ask for and accept help. we need all the help we can get, so use a big shovel. that’s one massive turd we are dealing with.

would you like to hear the newspaper headline behind the above photograph, by the way? I knew you would. The Guardian delighted in the following:

Giant dog turd wreaks havoc at Swiss Museum.

as described in this article. you couldn’t make this crap up 😉 the world is a crazy, wonderful place. let’s be sober in it, folks!

11 days to go to one year.