Effects of alchohol on your appearance

True Activist published a new article today about the effect that alcohol has on your appearance, to read it click here

It begins with: “Drinking alcohol might seem like the normal or ‘hip’ thing to do, but consuming it in excess over time can take a toll on one’s health.”

I am so impressed that they used the words “might seem normal”.

Ok, I know this is ‘True Activist’  an anti media news site that “exposes  the truth one lie at a time” so it’s not exactly mainstream, but the message is getting out there that consuming alcohol at least in excess is not normal.

The before and after photos are very inspirational. Most of them are of young-ish I would say 20-30 somethings that obviously partied too much. The main difference in the before and after photos is their weight and also their skin tone.

This is all very encouraging but that got me thinking about weight. One of the biggest and most coveted benefits of stopping drinking is usually listed as losing weight.

The trouble is that if you have an unhealty relationship with food on top of an alcohol addiction the chances are you won’t lose any weight when you first stop drinking. In fact since I stopped drinking 3 months ago I’ve put on 5 kilograms. The 5kg might have a little something to do with the truckloads of Magnum ice cream I devoured whilst re-watching the desperate housewives boxset (you do what you gotta do during those first months to stay away from booze.)

My many previous attempts to stop drinking had not necessarily hinged on the weight thing but it was a massive motivating factor to stop. If I didn’t lose a stone in the first 3 months my resolve was significantly weakened.

I would tell myself things like: “I’m being so good by not drinking, at least I should have the benefits of looking like on of those bikini clad yoga bunnies on Instagram to make up for the sacrifice, damn it!”
This time I know its different for me. I can pick up another stone in weight and I will still stay stopped.

This time It’s not the weight, or the clear skin or the extra money or even the liver health. This time it’s about self-compassion, self-love and self-respect.

I’ve just realised as i’m typing this that I have been lost in a cycle of self-hatred, self harm and self loathing for the best part of 24 years.

No more. Enough now.

Wine glasses

When I went to a Halloween party last weekend I poured my coke zero into a wine glass. I did the same thing in Venice  when my husband and I went out for a fancy dinner.

Big deal, right?

I think it might be a big deal because it’s been troubling me quite a lot. I saw a photo of me holding a wine glass with coke zero in and it just felt wrong!

In Venice I just thought it looked more glamorous to drink out of a wine glass.

At the Halloween party I did it to make everyone else comfortable, or maybe to make myself less conspicuous. I didn’t want everyone asking me if I wanted a drink.

The reason this is bugging me is that by putting my soft drink in a wine glass I am subliminally telling myself I am making a sacrifice. I am reinforcing the idea that I am missing out on something marvelous by choosing not to drink.

I’ve quit drinking, and wine glasses in my world are not JUST glasses.

They are a reminder of my old life. A reminder of an addiction that was destroying me and my family. A reminder of ethanol, an addictive poisonous substance that very nearly cost me my life.

So no more wine glasses, Im chucking them into the bin today!

Need to keep an eye on the brainwashing that booze is cool, fun an glamorous. It creeps in when you’re not looking.

 

 

 

Bridget Jones

I went to see Bridget Jones’s baby last night and it was side splitting hilarious, mostly. It got me thinking about a couple of things. Why aren’t women allowing themselves to age? Have we lost touch with reality to such an extent that youthful good looks IS the  ultimate achievement, the holy grail.  Surely there is more to life than looking good!

In the book Mark Darcy dies and the story starts when she’s done grieving and ready to start dating again. Why didn’t they put that in the movie? Are we ‘poor’ females so sensitive, so inept at watching something with real depth that we have to be protected from anything remotely realistic? I know its a rom com and the producers probably wanted to keep it ‘light’ but can’t we handle anything other than a Disney Princess story for fuck sake?

Dont get me wrong, I loved the movie and laughed untill i cried. The scene with Mark Darcy carrying an enormously pregnant Bridget over the bridge to the beat of disco music is etched in my memory forever.
I just wonder if we aren’t selling ourselves short. This ‘culture’ or ‘milieu’ we find ourselves in, indeed the milieu we are co-creating is adding to the constant consumption of booze to soften the world that has become too much for us to handle.

Are we not stronger than that?

Things I won’t miss about drinking

The self loathing that started at the 4am wake up call, the dry mouth.

Piecing the last nights events together. What did I do/say? How did I get to bed? How much did I drink? Blackouts are the pits!

The all-absorbing thought stream about how much you will drink today, where how and who with.

The pre-loading of drinks when you go to a party where the crowd drinks too slow for your liking.

The amazed look on the check out persons face when you do your weekly shop. “Having a party are we?” No actually that’s just my weekly alcohol consumption sans social interaction or occasion thank you.

The chaos surrounding an alcohol fuelled life, the confusion and disruption.

The lack of rest and sleep.

The black shadow following you around telling you that you are killing yourself and damaging everyone around you.

The denial, justification, lies you tell yourself to make the next drink ok.

Trying to moderate and failing! There is nothing more soul-destroying than trying to climb that fucking moderation mountain and feeling like a complete and utter failure every time you drink too much which invariably happened most days.

The dry skin and red eyes, the puffy marshmallow face.

The red blotchy cheecks and veins around my nose.

The drunken arguments with my husband that turned really dark and nasty.

The sinking black feeling like you are closing up like a telescope.

The eternal jingle jangle of my recycling bin.