Achieving 6 months of sobriety is a weird old time. On the one hand, it’s an ENORMOUS accomplishment; on the other, it’s a no-mans-land of ‘what the actual fuck am I doing?’

I remember 6 months well. One minute, I was ecstatic, jumping for joy and celebratory, and the next, I was miserable, moody and morose. There was no middle ground.

At 6 months, my beautiful temple rewarded me with the biggest mood of my sobriety. Ironically, it happened whilst watching Glastonbury festival on TV. Now this is strange because a. I’ve never been to Glastonbury, b. I’ve never wanted to go to Glastonbury and c. I’ve never watched Glastonbury on TV. In fact, I’d never even given two shiny shites about Glastonbury before. But suddenly, I wanted to go to Glastonbury and get off my miserable face.

I remember sitting on my sofa, Elderflower cordial in one hand and a wodge of Curly Wurlies in the other, balling. If I’d been a child, I would’ve been stamping my feet and wailing ‘but I WANNA’. I was jealous & envious and the FOMO (Fear Of Missing Out) was of epic proportions.

Thoughts were whirring through my brain; ‘is THIS it?’, ‘will I ever drink again?’, ‘is my life resigned to staying in on a Friday night, cartoon crying and binge eating Curly Wurlies ALONE?’, ‘was everyone else is the world having fun apart from ME?’, ‘was this IT?’.

The more the thoughts whirred, the more I cried. I was actually making noises like a 2 year old. I was proper wailing like a 42 year old banshee.

And then I stopped. To breathe mainly. But I stopped. I was exhausted by emotion. And actually it felt quite good to have got it all out. Then, Rational Dawn then came out to play.

Did I really want to go to Glastonbury? No. Did I want to camp? No. Did I want to ever see a festival toilet pit again? No. Did I want to go to a festival sober? No. Did I really give a shit about Glastonbury? No.

What I’ve realised about Sober Massive Moods is that often it’s the old (inner) me having a paddy. The old (inner) me is sad that a choice has been taken away and challenging me to do something about it. Sure, the option to festival sober is there. The reality is I’d bloody hate it.

The Massive Mood made me question what was REALLY going on. Actually, it had fuck all to do with festival antics and more to do with me accepting my relationship with alcohol was finally over.

6 months is a long time and 6 months is not. It’s a limbo between your old life and your new. Your body is free from toxins and you have recalibrated. It’s common to think ‘perhaps I could just have the one’.

Personally, I didn’t think this because moderation is not, and has never been, an option. My belief is that if I could moderate, I would’ve moderated and not got myself into the pickle that led me to 6 months of sobriety. Similarly, if Curly Wurlies were supposed to be eaten one at a time, why sell 5 for a £1? Just my opinion.

Despite the doom & gloom of The Massive Mood, some lovely stuff happened at 6 months. I changed the blog name from ‘Sober for 2017’ to ‘The Sober Fish Story’, cementing my intention of sobriety for life. I started walking everyday, discovered Audio books and booked my ticket to Thailand which was one of the highlights of my sober journey so far.

Life, sober or hanging, will always have it’s ups and downs. It’s how you deal with it that matters. If you need to cry, cry. Why are we so conditioned not to cry for Pete’s sake??! If you need to binge eat Curly Wurlies, bloody binge eat Curly Wurlies. Do WHATEVER it takes because I promise you this, if you get through 6 months sober, you’re on the verge of being invincible.

Never, ever, give up ❤️

Written by Sober Fish 2018

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