Dry Jan

I haven't tried this before, as usually I feel like I need alcohol to get me through the first month of the year but this year, my husband begged me to join him for 'Dry Jan' and said that I would thank him for it afterwards. 'Yeah, right,' I thought.

The first week was hell. I craved that glass of. red so much. Our neighbours were in on the act too and we planned to burn our Christmas trees together out the back, after all decorations were down. We have a rought iron shelter in our garden which we have strung up some fairy lights and call the Rum Bar. It felt sad that this wasn't in action that evening. A fter the fire was quickly over, I asked 'Would you like to come in for a herbal tea"? "Not really," they replied but followed us inside anyway. We shared a jug of tap water after the tea and devoured all our crackers and cheese, whilst we talked about alcohol. That was the hardest part of the month.

I must admit that I fell off the wagon a few times over the month, but I climbed back on. Last Friday, our neighbours from where we used to live came over for dinner. They were doing 'Dry Jan' too and our friend managed to get through three business trips on no alcohol, which we were all deeply impressed with. As my husband had cooked lamb, I couldn't resist pouring a sherry glass worth of red wine to wash it down with. I tried to tempt the others but they were having none of it. Well, my husband said he'd have a thimble. I ended up having five thimbles but I felt totally squiffy on. it. It amounted to one glass of red wine in all but, psychologically, it felt like five full glasses of wine. I was asked by my old neighbours how come I had a half full bottle of red wine in the house...

The Friday before, my mum came over holding a weeny bottle of wine for one. She said it was for her because she knew we were doing 'Dry Jan'. My heart sank, as I wanted her to twist my arm. In the end, I had to grab a bottle of red that had been giving me the eye on the kitchen counter, which we all decided to down with our meal. The next eve, our old neighboures were over after a year travelling around Australia, so it felt rude not to have a glass or two of fizz with them to celebrate their return.

The following Saturday night, that small bottle of white in the fridge was calling my name. It felt nice at the time and the gentle numbing of tight muscles but on Sunday morning, there were tears and paranoia. I think white wine basically turns me into a psycho. I vowed no more.

On the whole, apart from the few blips above, I have been sober and how amazing that has felt, I've woken up with a smile on my face and got out of bed with spring in my step. I argued with my family less. I was nicer to be around and nicer to be - for myself. The world looks more beautiful. I 've got more done but at a slower and more enjoyable pace. I'm less irritable and angyry. My skin has never looked so radiant. The only thing is, I haven't lost any weight - in fact I've put it on from all the extra morsels I've been eating instead. It was a good experient which I'm not sure I want to end.