Alcohol my old friend & foe

I have had some truly great nights in my life which I often credit alcohol for and, once upon a time, when I caught up with friends we regaled each other with wild stories of our chaotic, fun and wild big nights out or even one o those “we were planning a quiet night in but we ended up putting a holiday to South Africa – all thanks to whisky!” y’know, that kind of thing.

Now all we do is moan about hangovers and lets not get started on hang-anxiety, well, not just yet anyway.

These days a convo about drinking might start with: “OMG, I only had two glasses of wine last night and I woke up in the middle of the night, sweating like a pig, my mouth dry as a desert and I just couldn’t get back to sleep, I’m dying and I hate myself” Somewhere in our late 30’s into 40’s, many of us have had to make the painful decision between choosing a fun night or few hours verses functioning on a lost night’s sleep for at least the whole the day after – and that’s the bare minimum, especially if we factor in the hangiety, more of which later.

So alcohol, once a reliable decades-long time fun pal, has suddenly and without much warning, turned foe.

I always thought my breakup with alcohol would happen after I’d been arrested or said something really stupid to someone important or perhaps fallen down a flight of stairs, ending up in A&E……but the reality is more uninspiring. I just can’t seem to process alcohol in the way my body used to be able to. All this waking up at strange hours and feeling really ill and regretting my whole life because of it. I have hangovers that can last anything between one to three business working days. It’s like my body, after years of enjoying drinking, has just kinda stopped enjoying it as much.

Hangovers were always an occupational hazard of course, I think we can all relate to waking up a little groggy in our late teens and early twenties but my goodness, we could still plough through the day and go out like troopers the next night and do it all again!…

But somewhere in our 30’s s hangovers seem to become day-long events with perhaps a double test of endurance on a Saturday or Sunday, if say, we have or had babies, toddlers and children to look after, entertain and feed. I distinctly remember declaring that from now on I would only get drunk “if it was worth that bloody hang-over the next day” as I trudged through an outdoor children’s attraction, trying for the love of God to ware my children out so we could go home and watch a movie (and I could sleep!).

But of course, I never learned! Drinking became something to be perhaps done once a week as a negotiation with my partner so that the children could be looked after properly or it became more of a strategic thing, for example there was an era where I would only drink at big events, such as weddings and birthday parties – rather than all the time.

And that worked for a while but basically that progressed into binge drinking and that’s certainly when my own hangxiety crept in. Because sometime in our 30’s, social anxiety annoyingly starts creeps in and raises its ugly head far more keenly before or after any social event for many of us!

Perhaps its to do with the socialising in our youths, once it is done and dusted, we start to mature and begin to socialise with different groups of people than our original core teen-friendship circles where anything goes – and it never mattered if someone was a twat, well, not all that much! – we were in effect all in it together. Maturing into adulthood means more socialising out of our comfort zones with work colleagues, managers, potential collaboration work-contacts, new mums/school mum groups, and local community groups. Basically we become pillars of our communities.

Many of us can relate to times when order to even show up at a social event required a sneaky stiff drink beforehand in order to counteract nerves OR to reduce an evening of absolute boredom if you were unlucky enough to be lumbered with lets just say “people who don’t align with us” OR worse still: you turn up to a gathering where everyone else is absolutely off their heads and the only answer available in that moment to speed up time and get through the evening was alcohol – if you cant beat them, join them! I certainly managed to plaster over the cracks of many a waning social circle this way for a few more Godforsaken years before I found the inner strength to change things up for myself.

However, within the midst of this the occasional social binge drink was still huge fun in hindsight, something funny to talk about and share drunken anecdotes with pals and often as a way of bonding with new friends. But as I waded into my forties, I did began to wonder whether each person is somehow allocated a number of drinks to consume over a lifetime and that perhaps I had used up all my “rations” before I’d used up my years. However the reality was probably more along the lines of my own body stopping producing the enzymes used to break down alcohol in my gut and all the drinks just sat there like the poison it is – so after years of fun, booze has just stopped working for me. Which was a shame because on the whole it made life more fun and social occasions bearable.

As mentioned earlier, if my younger era of meeting up and swopping crazy night out stories, these days it really is a case of discussing the evil hangover and the moaning sometimes feels endless; a few weeks I met up with a late thirty something pal who was anxious and jittery, she was complaining that she had a persistent low-level headache and a feeling of malaise. She had tried to go running in the morning and struggled to keep pace and even a dip in the pond as was her usual post-run high provided no joy for her “I think I must be still hungover from Friday,” She mumbled. It was one of those hangovers with a long tail, whose effects were in equal parts physical and psychological. Just terrible.

But if hangovers are purely a getting older thing, then how come so many of the baby boomers are knocking it back still!? Many 70-year-olds I know, including my own mother and half of her retirement lodge she lives with can polish off a bottle of wine at lunch, some G&Ts in the late afternoon, more wine for dinner and get up early the following morning looking unfairly refreshed. HOW COME THEY ARE NOT DYING IN THE NIGHT? Are their organs that pickled and preserved? And why the hell are they not droning on about hangovers? Perhaps they didn’t use up all their drinking vouchers of their youth, whereas we partied so freaking hard in the 90’s and 00’s – remember ladette culture anyone?

At any rate, for those of us who had managed to curb the drinking of our youth, not developed a serious drink problem but still liked to indulge, albeit now occasionally in an drinking blow out, we found that after the immediate physical torture of the hangover, there was now a new mysterious but equally horrifying prospect of HANGXIETY!! Counselling experts at the Priory explain that: “hangxiety is anxiety plus a hang over: and it’s VERY REAL” – furthermore this feeling of feeling overwhelmed can trigger panic attacks and even help people develop a panic disorder all of its own as a result. Post drinking days and nights spent begging for forgiveness or being reassured by others that we haven’t done anything too terrible and vice versa becomes the norm. The self-loathing of ourselves, just awful for days after.

So it goes without saying that now I and my friends wonder if even two or three drinks are worth the pain, the anxiety and moodiness the following day(s) combined with the foggy half sleep and sweaty-awfulness. Of course increasingly the answer is NO — and to get even 7 hours of deep sleep has become like its own sort of drug experience – waking up to feel empowered, invincible, fresh! As if I can handle anything. There’s nothing like it – sleep (and naturally coffee) have become my new addiction.

Other friends I know have gone down the alternative route of “finding something else” – that nagging need to find something new to numb the day or aid/speed along anxiety and other dreary social situations. Smoking weed and of course micro-dosing has become the preferred and socially acceptable drug of choice amongst the middle class, middle aged woman but that’s a whole other blog post!

I have also found that as I approach my middle age that my lifestyle as changed and developed to such a degree now that I simply don’t have time for hangovers or hangxiety anymore. My joys these days come more from nature, people, hobbies and things I find interesting; I want to attend yoga retreats, go on hikes, wild swim, forage, create, talk, garden, learn stuff, have interesting days out etc – I now don’t drink on days that I know I am doing something good and interesting the next day as I don’t want to ruin it for myself and more often than not, my companions.

But I haven’t completely given up alcohol yet. Like an old dear friend that you have such fond memories of, I enjoy her company and I like to relax and let loose with her at times – but I am wayyyy better at knowing my limits now and the old pre-anxiety of a social situation is giving way to a bigger high of waking up the next morning with zero hangxiety, a clear head and genuine excitement about the day that lies ahead more.

Also, when I do maybe drink more than I can handle, I now have such reached that wonderful stage in life where no one in my circles judge – combined with being sensible about what can be achieved the next day if I do have a few tinnies!

I also just like talking more, I like genuinely finding out what my friends are upto, especially those I don’t see often which is often the case as we get older, – remembering what they have said and having meangingful interactions is a bonus! I can’t enjoy this if I’m two bottles of wine in and yakking up in the toilets.

More often than not though, it turns out I am just doing something way more interesting in the day these days which prevents me from going wild and I enjoy my drinks before calling it a night, coming home with my cup flowing over, giggling and grateful for my friends and a good night out.

Because it turns out that sleep, glorious sleep and waking up fresh and cleared headed brings many of us its own dose of heady happiness & contentment.

Basically: many of us have just matured… so roll on our 70’s when we get to have teatime G&Ts again!