Yesterday’s score was mainly one of pain. The fasting for the GTT and the two hours after triggered a migrainey headache that lasted (on and off) for the entire day. My plans to run and /or yoga fell by the wayside as the pain was sending electric jolts through my teeth when I walked, let alone bending to stretch, or running.

Sometimes when things like this are going on, I just push through them anyway, and sometimes that’s even the right thing to do. I had lots of non-moving tasks that needed attending to though, so I focused on those.

I’m feeling really optimistic about life. I’m noticing that I’m getting more done. I’m still tired a lot of the time – especially that after dinner time – but I’m finding that rests and naps are actually refreshing me enough to be able to get back up and get on with things, rather than triggering collapse and signalling the end of the day to me.

What’s made the difference? The number one thing is probably the medication change. Because I stopped alcohol for the first 6 weeks of the year and I would still only manage to do one “major” thing on any given day before collapsing in a useless, sleepless lump on the couch or in front of my computer for the rest of the day.

So, I no longer feel like I’m dragging a dead carcass around from 4pm ’til 8pm, and I even have something of life left in me after 8pm! I can’t believe it. I think ceasing alcohol has been that extra “bit” though – without that my new found coping would have been poured into a glass and then peed away within the hour.

Yesterday I made a roast chicken dinner – not a super taxing dinner task, and yet the me of even a month ago would have found it hard to contemplate cooking without cracking a bottle of wine for accompaniment. I would have been snappish and irritable at kids coming into the kitchen for even a minute, as I would have seen them as interrupting my time. There were lots of small differences yesterday: while the roast finished off, I found I had energy to clean off and set the table, rather than grumpily berating my husband for not reading my mind and having done it already (when he was busy fixing something else in the house); I sat down with the family to eat and enjoyed it, rather than sneaking off to sit with extra “whine”, or guzzling my dinner so fast to enable said sneak-off; I actually tasted my food! I still don’t like peas! I’d gotten to the point where I thought “I quite like peas now”, but on really tasting them, I am still really not gone on them at all; I still ate too much and asked to have a bit of digesting lie-down time, and took a small nap as my headache had returned full-force – but then I got back up, dressed children for bed, did teeth, read stories and got down to a couple of hours of my own correcting work … as opposed to? As opposed to black, sotted oblivion, followed by a morning grumpy hangover and the possibility of doing it all again because “I’m on holidays”.

Why am I writing about all of this? Alcohol is firmly in my past now, so shouldn’t I just leave it there, rather than ruminating on it and poking the past and turning it over and over in my mind? Am I protesting “too much”? Is this all just symptomatic of a desire to return to drinking and I’m working “way too hard” to tell myself I don’t want it?

Well, that’s not what it feels like to me inside this mind of mine. It feels a bit like when you get out of a bad relationship, and you suddenly see things clearly for the first time. All the actions – both from yourself and the other person – that you excused for so long, or even convinced yourself were “good things”, all the lies you tell yourself about how it will be “better in the long run” and how you are “being strong” and “sticking it out” – all of that suddenly becomes clear when you get true closure. And just like when a relationship like that ends, it feels purifying and cleansing to talk the poison out. Truth is my cleansing agent of choice, when I write about it – truthfully, embarrassingly, it somehow starts to drain some of the poison that nested deep inside me for so long.