A Slight Wobble

Alright, if I’m honest it was more of a stumble than a wobble…

At 103 days we had international visitors descend on us and proudly present us with a bottle that “we brought all this way just to share with you.  We went specifically to the cellar door to pick it up!”.

Oh crapsicles was my first thought, I didn’t warn them that I wasn’t drinking.  My second thought was, what can it hurt? I did my 100 days, I’m not breaking that commitment.

What can it hurt?… well, even though not my worse enemy could have accused me of being drunk or even a bit tipsy, the following day after 4 people sharing a bottle of bubbles and then another over dinner, I felt like CRAP!  I was slightly “off” all day, even a bit irritable.  Crazy Cat Boy said he was the same.

I did the rest of the four day weekend as the designated driver out here in wine country, having a polite glass with dinner.  We merrily waved our guests goodbye,  hid all the wine they’d generously bought us over the extended cellar door tour we’d been on in the wine fridge out in the garage, and put ourselves firmly back on the wagon.

Lesson learnt, don’t let others sway your thinking.  Honestly if I’d known them better I’d have told them straight out that I wasn’t drinking, but I don’t, so I didn’t want to make them uncomfortable – they are quite big drinkers who we met on a winery tour.

(If I’m being honest, I let almost complete strangers influence my thinking here, something that 20 years ago I would never have let happen… something I need to have a closer look at I think.)

I can truly say that life is way better without booze, a bit of me is very sad about that, but most of me hasn’t even realised that I’ve been going without, it’s become a new kind of normal here, and I’m ok with that.

Cranky, Possibly Crazy…

The last week or so I’ve been in a mood,  cranky, irrational, snarky, no patience at all with anyone, a true joy to be around… Not!  Mind you, no one has been brave enough to complain but I know it in myself.

I’m mainlining chocolate, drinking Coke like it’s going out of fashion and kicking things that piss me off, like the garage door…. How dare he lock it when I knew I’d probably use it at some point this week???!  It’s like he’s deliberately provoking me!

(Poor Crazy Cat Boy has NO idea that I’m so pissed at the fact he secured our house against chance marauders, mind you if he’d been home he’d have worked it out! LOL)

I don’t know what’s wrong with me, I even Googled “how to practice gratitude” and got narky because the articles were too long and it looked like a bit of work.    So I’m sitting here scowling at the screen, coz you know, I’m good like that, wondering if this post is adding value or just me killing time before my next interminable teleconference, where I’m going to get more pissed off because my service provider keeps changing exactly what it is their service actually provides.

So, what’s the thoughts good internet peeps, is it lack of sun, time of year (winter here), really late withdrawal or am I just an ungrateful crazy cow who’s allowing a couple of dodgy weeks to crank up the poor me’s?  Love your opinions, I’d just be careful how you phrase them!  LOL

 

PS: I think it’s day 43 with no booze, I’m starting to lose count.

 

I’ve given up!

Worry that is. You might remember when I gave up guilt?  Man, what a relief that was!  Now I’m going cold turkey on worry.

I made this decision yesterday and I feel a million times lighter.

It’s not that I don’t care, I do, I always will, but the emotion of worry? That I’ll pass on thanks very much.

Given than I’m an Olympic standard worrier, what’s brought this on? I hear you ask.  Well, it’s a couple of things…

First, a few weeks ago (keep it quiet, I’ve only told you fab internet peeps) I had my first anxiety attack in nearly twenty years.  It came out of nowhere and I think might have been linked to a very bad drinking session I’d had the week prior (yep, booze, the gift that keeps on giving).  It’d been so long that it took me a bit to work out what was happening and get myself under control – I was out in public with someone I don’t know that well. Given that I tend to pass out that could have been somewhat, um, er, “dramatic” and I much prefer a lower key presence!

Secondly, I’m in the middle of major projects with missed deadlines zooming past me and work piling up, so after a sleepless night I got up early, opened my email and my chest immediately tightened up.  Hmm, I was pretty sure at that point that something had to give, and I’d prefer it wasn’t me!

I’ve taken my body’s cues and listened; not only did I decide to give up worrying but I impulsively sent my resume off to several recruitment agencies.

I feel so much lighter and happier and amazingly I’ve been so much more productive.  I think I’ve achieved more in the last two days than I have in weeks.

I’ve told Crazy Cat Boy that I’d given up worrying, and he laughed and then looked startled when he realised I was serious.  It’ll be an uphill battle, but I think I can win this one, time will tell, but I don’t plan on worrying about it … well, not a lot, baby steps!  LOL

 

In case you are wondering, I’ve pretty much not been drinking since that day.  I’ll have one or two with friends over dinner, but that’s it from now on.

Crossed Wires

 

I’ve offended someone, didn’t mean to, but I have and I’ve decided that I don’t care!  That’s a bit of a breakthrough for me, normally I would.  Here’s how it all unfolded…

Friday night I headed off to dinner with Super Sammie and a friend of hers that I’ve never met, let’s call her Jane.  Jane seemed nice enough and it turns out she spent a lot of her younger life in the same area as me.  We didn’t know each other, but we know the same people.

Normally around new people I’m pretty quiet, I let others do the talking and rarely share. Yes, I have trust issues, especially around people that have a connection to the place that I deliberately left behind and distanced myself from.   However with just the three of us there was nowhere to hide.  So after a while I shared that I’ve been reading some blogs, Mummy was a Secret Drinker in particular (if you haven’t read Sober Mummy’s blog, please do, she’s funny and engaging).  I know I’ve shared this with you dear readers, but I’ve never actually admitted it IRL before.

I’ve been concerned for a while that I have the capacity to develop a problem with alcohol and even mentioning out aloud that I’m interested in this space is pretty big for me.  That probably says more about me right?

Anyway, a nice dinner ended (Lickerish, check it out Adelaide people) and farewells were exchanged.

Monday morning I boot up the PC to find a brand new shiny blog from Sober Mummy, which was nice, she doesn’t post as often as she used to (yeah, yeah, I know, people with semi abandoned blogs shouldn’t throw verbs or nouns or whatever – I can never work out which is which).

So without thinking too much about it I shot of a quick Facebook message to Super Sammie and Jane saying “Hey ladies, this is the blog I was talking about”.    Almost immediately I get a message back from Jane, curtly asking why I’d felt the need to send this to her.    Clearly I’d offended her, so I clarified that it was just that we’d been talking about it and I thought it was good blog and that it had been nice to meet her on Friday.  I’d hoped this would calm the situation.  Instead, Jane accused me of not being truthful!

(I can only imagine her reaction if I’d sent her my other fav blog Mr Money Moustache! )

Great, just what I need to start my day.  My first instinct was to defend myself, but that sixth sense that tells you more information will only make it worse kicked in.  So I acknowledged her feelings (they are hers, she has every right to have them) and let her know I didn’t mean to offend and I’ve left it at that.

I wish Jane nothing but good things in her life but I’m not sure I want to see her again.  I hope that Super Sammie isn’t being dragged into a drama that isn’t of her making. That is the last thing I want.

Initially I was really upset by this.  I open myself up and am immediately rejected.  However as you can tell from my opening line, I’ve moved on from that to pissy.  I’m sure I’ll calm down and get to acceptance at some point, but at the moment it’s a bit raw.

What I’ll do about the rest of what I’ve mentioned above I’m still not sure.  I think I’m ok.  Speaking of ok, I do have some other blogs half written and I promise to be here more often.

Be kind to yourselves good internet peeps.

I Have A Dirty Little Secret

 

 

 

 

 

My name is Crazy Cat Lady and I’m an addict.  That’s the first step right, admitting you have a problem?  I was the last person I thought this would happen to.  I’m opening up so that others don’t feel they are alone…

First, I feel I have to defend myself; I’m an intelligent, articulate woman.  I hold myself to high standards and get quite angry by the low brow entertainment offerings that are so prevalent today.

Hell, one of my favourite rants is how “reality news shows” and morning TV are the reason we are becoming so dumb.  I’m passionate about education and using my time to achieve worthwhile goals.  So I’m deeply ashamed to admit my degrading addiction.

(I also believe that not returning shopping trollies to their bay in the car park is contributing to the breakdown of civilisation, but that’s a rant for another day.)

It started innocently enough; I was tired on a flight back from a client conference and wasn’t paying too much attention to my actions.  It was only one, what could it hurt? Right?

Wrong! That one hit was all it took, I was hooked.

I binged all the flight home, I couldn’t get enough.  I didn’t want to get off the flight and lose my “connection”.  I knew I couldn’t get the product at home; I’d never be able to hide the lost time and money from Crazy Cat Boy.

For the past few years I’ve hidden this dirty secret from the world, indulging while on work trips alone in my hotel room. Making excuses to leave client dinners early or showing up late for pre dinner drinks. Yes, I had sunk that low.

Only recently did I admit my problem to Super Sammie.  I expected her to recoil in horror and suggest I seek treatment immediately, but to my dismay she just smiled knowingly and shared her stash with me.  It appears that this addiction has almost reached epidemic proportions among seemingly responsible, middle class, white women.

Why admit my addiction now you ask?  Well after years of managing to keep a lid on it mostly due to the lack of opportunity to indulge it seems that I’m about to be found out.  I’ll shortly be able to feed my shame at home and I’m not sure I’m strong enough to resist.

So if you don’t hear from me for a while, please stage an intervention, I’ll be in my lounge room wearing PJ’s, an addict’s vacant glassy stare, slack jawed and binge watching Real Housewives….

Bah Hum Bug

I’m totally not a Christmas person

We’ve just gone through his family’s seasonal “Crazy Cat Lady, you got random cousin Jay in the family draw” saga.  This means I now have to work out which one Jay is again, then spend $50 on a person that I don’t really know, only see every third Christmas, who won’t acknowledge this gift so I’ll never know if the specialised gift that they requested and I paid extra shipping for even arrived!

This process is starting to wear thin. Plus,immediate family are an exception; you are still expected to spend a fortune on them and get random crap* back in return.

I’ve never really been a Christmas person, even when small.  It usually meant being up early and having to be on my best behaviour if Grandma was coming.   The only upside as a kid was that I usually got to see Cousin Wendy and check out her new earrings (she wore make up and made her own funky earrings, she was and is way cool). Cousin Wendy and I would also whip everyone’s arses at pool at Nan and Pa’s which was always fun – It stood us in good stead drinks wise when we started hitting the bars.

Crazy Cat Boy however LOVES Christmas.  He’s an extravagant shopper by nature and loves to be a part of his extended family.  But (why is there always a “but”?)  Christmas is a stark reminder that his family don’t really know him.  It makes me sad to watch the puzzled look creep over his face as he opens yet another well meaning but rarely thought out gift.  Just email me people; I’ll give you some tips, it’s really not that hard!!  I mean, at least I know they don’t care what I get, but he takes it personally.

This year we are on the verge of a Christmas miracle, we are just one missing dog sitter away from it being the two of us in our own home, far away from the inevitable stress that will occur over slightly dry pork and copious amounts of champagne as my BIL & SIL host lunch at their place.

The magic of Christmas might just be restored!

*It’s not their fault; they don’t know me any better than I know them.

I always get a giggle at gifts from SIL.  One year out of every ten she knocks it out of the ball park with an amazing, thoughtful gift that must have taken months to pull together.  The other nine years however, it looks like she ran blindfolded through a service station and just wrapped whatever random stuff she picked up!  LOL

I’ve Quit Guilt & So Should You

I gave it up about 18 months ago. If you haven’t already done this, give it a try it is liberating.

I was a 3 pack a day guilter so it wasn’t easy.

I always had that feeling that whatever was wrong was my fault somehow. It comes high school where I was bullied everyday then moving straight into a job where the company culture was to sit the staff down and tell us that we should do anything they told us to because no one else would hire us. I already knew from school; comply and conform is the only option for acceptance. Doh, talk about negative reinforcement!

Closed doors, must be talking about me. Something goes wrong on a project that I’m only slightly connected with, must have been something I’ve done. CCB in bad mood, yup, must have been something I said or did. It got to the point where guilt was starting to control my life.

My light bulb moment came after a particularly trying day at work where it was announced that “not everyone will be going” to a long awaited event that I was a critical part of the planning for. I immediately thought; Well, I should take one for the team, I’ll talk to the boss tomorrow and tell him to leave me out. Then I went home and got ready for my walk and CCB got cranky because he wanted me to go and do something with him, he didn’t need me to do it, it was just that what I wanted to do wasn’t about him*

So I went for my walk feeling guilty and then it hit me… why am I feeling this way? I deserve to get fit; I have the right to want what I want.

Then I thought about the work situation. I didn’t notice any of the boys volunteering to step back, so why should I? I’m a key part of this team and I should be at this event. I’m proud of the work I’ve done to get this up and running. Bugger it, I’m not having that chat with the boss tomorrow and I refuse to feel guilty about it.

So that is the day I gave up guilt.

I feel lighter and strangely more confident when I reply “That’s a shame, what is being done to resolve the issue?” instead of immediately trying to find a way that I messed up and jumping in to help “fix” it.

Guilt is a highly addictive, nasty, destructive habit that is bad for your mental health. Giving up is hard, but not giving up is worse. Take a hint from Tay Tay** and Shake It Off, Shake It Off.

* He’s working on that

** I wonder how different my high school years might have been if Ms Swift rather than Mr Farnham was the soundtrack!