Time to Write.
I haven’t been consciously avoiding writing over the past couple of days, but the time has handily slipped away and I’ve not been overly active in pursuing it.
My party happened. And it was lovely and it was … was it what I expected? I’m not sure. When Past-Me visualised it, it had been more of an afternoon Sunny Garden affair, rather than a rained out evening in a marquee kind of thing. But thank goodness for said marquee, and the food was good and the company was good, and the extra twelve or so people that my mother had invited who I didn’t know could have marquee chats there with my parents and I got to go into other rooms with my family and have family partying.
And the “after”party, when the non-family had departed and my parents and uncle had departed with them for the pub up the road was pretty much all I was hoping for with some Codenames played and lots of songs singed, and my Mum returned and joined in (or maybe didn’t go? I’m not sure) with the singings, and it all went on gratifyingly late into the morning.
I headed to bed around 2:30 and slept by 3 and awoke cranky and exhausted, but capable enough for the day compared to the hungover fearful mess I might easily have been on an epsilon-distance parallel timeline.
The drinking/not-drinking thing wasn’t quite the non-issue I’d hoped for – on a couple of fronts. First of all, I was tempted. I had a bit of a brain conversation with myself during that span between getting dressed up and things getting started.
“Do I want a drink? I feel like I actually want a drink. Why am I not drinking again? Could I? What would be wrong with having a boozy night on my birthday? Do I actually want one?”
And then I pretty much told my brain to shut the fuck up, that I was going to have enough to deal with in sidestepping others’ questions about my lack of alcohol and I went and poured myself a Red Bull (or actually, the Lidl non-union equivalent) into a champagne glass.
“What’s that you’re drinking?” said my sister and my mother and several others.
“Red Bull. I’m feeling really tired and I want to last the night.” said me, not lying but not really telling the full truth either.
And that was it! Once I had a glass of something and something that didn’t feel like I would drink it all the time or significantly healthy either, my own brain-questions stopped, and no offers of other potential drinks were made to me. It seemed reasonable to be starting off with no alcohol, but once a first pass on drinks happens I find people tend not to question you any further.
There was one brief interaction later in the night when one of my (adult) nieces tried a bit of a “go on! have it! have it! let’s all do shots!” while nearly forcing some neat Captain Morgan’s rum into my mouth.
“No, I don’t want to.”
“No. I really don’t want any.”
“I. Said. No.”
Awkward, but … you know, I wasn’t actually the one who made it awkward, even though it momentarily felt that way.
I have a suspicion that one of my sisters may have noticed I wasn’t drinking at all over the past couple of days. She offered me several drinks the first night, then after seeing me drinking non-alcoholic beer in the pub and the red bull on the evening of the party itself, she didn’t offer any more.
We’ve had previous conversations about my cutting back on alcohol. I’ve spoken to her about using Selincro for the or so that I did (horrible, body crawling side effects, it’s not for me), and other times that I’ve abstained. I will tell her. I nearly had “the conversation” the following day with her, but … I dunno. Right now, I guess it’s still a thing that’s mainly “for me” and it’s been such a long journey and I’ve so many thoughts around the whole bloody thing that I don’t think it can fit in a short (<30 mins) conversation and really encompass what I want to say. And there wasn’t the window during “Preparations for Party Central” and I dunno, it feels like a bit of an imposition maybe to drop all those thoughts on people unprepared.
Like I’ve done to the readers of this blog! HaHa!
Well, I guess maybe I should just point her to this blog. But I’m not sure either if that’s a coherent enough way to describe it all.
I want to think some more, but yeah. At some point I’ll start telling more people. And not just the people who read this. I’m just not sure what form that’s going to take.