I wrote yesterday about how I am struggling with the sobriety. Although, it isn’t the sobriety I’m struggling with…that is amazing. The new energy, the better sleep, better skin, being fitter and stronger and less anxiety. No, not the sobriety I’m struggling with. Its the remaining sober. It’s the debating against that wicked voice in my head that’s trying to convince me this is a waste of time.
Me: I am so proud! I’ve got 50 days sober, what an achievement
Wine crone voice in my head: That’s great! There’s no point in going to 100, it’s basically the same as what you’ve already done. Did you know that the definition of insanity is doing the same thing over and over?
Me: But I set out to do 100, so that’s what I should do.
Wine crone: But your new found sobriety is all about going with the flow and being flexible, go on…just have one glass of wine. Think how crisp it will taste…
And so on. This perpetual debate in my head is incentive to keep going. Because I do not want a wine crone to live inside my skull. And if I can’t get rid of her completely, I’m going to at least starve her into silence.
And so at 7:32 on a Sunday morning, I am really focussing on this moment, as true evidence why I should not drink. If I had given in yesterday, as the crone tried to convince me, I would not be having this moment. I would either be asleep, trying to sleep, knocking back painkillers to quash the headaches, trying desperately the squash the self loathing rushing around my head, getting up to wee 10000000 times or, of course, all of the above. Instead, I am looking out at the stunning Sunday morning, drinking a warm oat latte, and looking forward to the 8am Pilates class I have booked, in the sure knowledge I wouldn’t be hungover to do it. These Sunday are the reason we do it. These Sundays make that wine crone shut up and crawl back into her crusty cave. Even she can’t deny how beautiful, and serene a sober Sunday morning is.
Soberfying 
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