Can't believe Solstice is here already. It seems like the summer has only just started, yet here we are again, stood on the peak of the hill, peering down into the abyss of the gloomy, depressing, long wintery nights that await us. Maybe it’s for the best. I realised last night that I had been drinking for ten consecutive evenings; which may be some explanation as to why this blog has been so neglected of late. To be fair, this boozing has been as much to do with circumstance as opposed to genuine thirst. I went away for a few days and – well - you have to relax and have a drink while you’re on holiday, don’t you? Then the night I got back, there was a staff party, and the beer was at a heavily discounted price (£1 a drink) so, well, you have to take advantage those prices don’t you (and let’s not forget you need vast quantities of alcohol just to get through spending your own leisure time with work colleagues). Then it was Thursday, which is my regular weekly pub night. And before I knew it, the weekend had arrived – and well, you have to drink at the weekend don’t you, if only to escape the unbearable responsibility of unstructured time.
Oh dear. Reading that paragraph back, with all its tenuous excuses for glutinous glugging, I can see how this entry looks like a very public admission of an alcohol problem. That’s just brilliant - so now I can add ‘drinking problem’ to my ever-increasing list of failings. I don’t know why I do this stupid blog. When I started I thought it would be fun to keep a nice little light-hearted diary, but the whole thing has become more like the slow compilation of a monumentally grim CV of damning traits.
Having said this, we must also remember that the fundamental characteristic of a troubled drinker is to deny they have any sort of problem. So by freely confessing I have a problem must paradoxically mean I don’t actually have a problem at all. Q.E.D.
Or maybe my brain cleverer than I anticipated it to be; convincing me to admit I have a problem, so I can use this confession to form the basis of an even deeper denial.
Either way, I’m not taking any chances. I hereby use this entry to make a stark declaration of alcohol abstinence. Yes that’s right. For the next 21 days I intend to live in the harrowing world of complete sobriety. I think 21 days is just about long enough to boost my own confidence that I am not dependent, without going too over the top and setting myself an unnecessarily sanctimonious target. Because once I’ve pushed the “Publish” button on this blog entry, that’s it. It becomes real – a contract made in print, that can literally be accessed and referenced by anyone in the world. So since I really will have to jolly well stick to it, it's best to set myself easier goals. To contemplate sobriety for any more that 21 days would inevitably turn me into a desperate and gibbering wreck.
And let’s be honest, isn’t this blog neurotic enough already?
Oh dear. Reading that paragraph back, with all its tenuous excuses for glutinous glugging, I can see how this entry looks like a very public admission of an alcohol problem. That’s just brilliant - so now I can add ‘drinking problem’ to my ever-increasing list of failings. I don’t know why I do this stupid blog. When I started I thought it would be fun to keep a nice little light-hearted diary, but the whole thing has become more like the slow compilation of a monumentally grim CV of damning traits.
Having said this, we must also remember that the fundamental characteristic of a troubled drinker is to deny they have any sort of problem. So by freely confessing I have a problem must paradoxically mean I don’t actually have a problem at all. Q.E.D.
Or maybe my brain cleverer than I anticipated it to be; convincing me to admit I have a problem, so I can use this confession to form the basis of an even deeper denial.
Either way, I’m not taking any chances. I hereby use this entry to make a stark declaration of alcohol abstinence. Yes that’s right. For the next 21 days I intend to live in the harrowing world of complete sobriety. I think 21 days is just about long enough to boost my own confidence that I am not dependent, without going too over the top and setting myself an unnecessarily sanctimonious target. Because once I’ve pushed the “Publish” button on this blog entry, that’s it. It becomes real – a contract made in print, that can literally be accessed and referenced by anyone in the world. So since I really will have to jolly well stick to it, it's best to set myself easier goals. To contemplate sobriety for any more that 21 days would inevitably turn me into a desperate and gibbering wreck.
And let’s be honest, isn’t this blog neurotic enough already?
1 comment:
I gave up for three years once. Nothing to it. Just avoid all your friends.
You aren't a problem drinker until you keep pace with Mark.
Post a Comment