The lies would start as soon as I woke up after drinking. I would first start thinking about how much I had drunk, usually having set a limit for myself which I would have broken. So I’d lie in bed trying to work out exactly what the amount was. This is a strange part of drinking for me as I would often lie to myself. Yes…to myself.
Say it was 10 cans of larger I would try and convince myself it was 8 (yeah babes because 8 is perfectly normal!!!!). And then when I’d got to the magic number I thought was better than the real number I would sort of congratulate myself. High five for one hun. Oh only 8 last night. What the actual fennel balls? It’s bloody madness.
Deep down I’d be knowing how many I drank and it would be making me cringe all day. I would also spend the day pretending not to be as hungover as I was. I’d be perky and happy and acting as if I’d only sipped a few tonic waters the previous night. When actually I’d been up till 3 with lager running down my chin(s). Again…not being truthful.
I also lied to myself that alcohol got rid of my colds. Oh yes, what a brilliant discovery I made there, for years they’ve been trying to cure the common cold and I thought I’d found the answer in a can of premium lager. I wrote to Doogie Howser to help him out but he never got back to me (I’m sure he mentioned me in his diary though).
What else? Oh yes, that when I was drinking I was good company. Okay well I still sort of stand by this one but I could also definitely be annoying too. I suppose I was entertaining to other people drinking, maybe not so much to others. But the lie here was I thought I needed it when I went out. Turns out I’m exactly the same.I just leave earlier.
And that brings me to the biggest lie. The one we’ve been sold and told all our lives. That alcohol makes everything better. This is the lie that kept me drinking. I genuinely believed that life was a whole bath of donkey shit without it.That life would be black and white with little bits of grey. If only I’d realised it is multicoloured sooner.
The lie that nothing will be as good as when you’re hammered is one I’m determined to call out. I know it’s a thin line and my god I was the worst for thinking sober people were about as interesting as waiting for twatting Brexit. BUT. I am very vocal to mates about my new life. I think it actually lands harder as they knew what a drinker I was.
So here’s to being honest and telling the truth. To ourselves and others. Of course some habits die hard and I’m still convinced that Princess Di is living in Barry Island, waiting for her big return, possibly on the Royal Variety Show. But I’m trying to get the truth out there in any way I can. And here has seemed a good start.