Self-care: Refuelling the tank.

Today, my Sunday is going to be a day of self-care; one of refuelling the tank so I am prepared for the week ahead (a very busy week indeed with three GCSES’s taking place!) and revitalised to be the best version of my personal, and professional, self. One can not drive comfortably and well without any fuel in one’s tank.

My self care today looks like wearing pyjamas all day, achieving less than 1000 steps (which is ruined as I have already done two thousand, how?!), lounging on the sofa watching multiple films, snuggling cats (who are currently ignoring me), prepping my lunches and dinners for the week (in between films and snack runs), not putting any make up on, maybe having a bath this evening, drinking copious amounts of tea from my absurdly growing tea collection and not drinking alcohol.

My current favourite coffee, roasted locally.

Last night, I attended a hen party, my first big social event since I stopped drinking. There was prosecco on the table and the usual gasps of horror as I explained that I am not drinking, followed rapidly by the statement that I am not pregnant as family faces started lighting up like adorable little Christmas trees. One person even suggested I have just one small glass of prosecco because that wouldn’t hurt would it?! Well, yes actually. It would hurt me. Because one drink is never enough.

Whilst I only did a minimal amount of talking to strangers, it was a lovely opportunity to catch up with my family (both sisters-in-law and Mother-in-law) surrounded by delicious food and Appletiser. And although on arrival my anxiety level was sky high from a combination of knowing very few people there and being sober, once seated I had a wonderful time.

I was sat close to someone else who always offers to be the designated driver as they had identified that they are unable to just have one drink and always end up being carried home before the night has even got started, a story I recognised all too well. Unfortunately, with my shocking hearing (I’m hard of hearing in one ear) and the general level of shrieky hen noise, I couldn’t hear well enough to engage in all of the conversation.

I stayed at the party for four hours (having given myself a goal of at least two hours prior to attending) and really enjoyed myself, though the penis straws were a step too far. One of my sisters even acknowledged how brave it was of me to attend an event where I knew few people and to do so sober. It’s always comforting when people recognise what you are going through, especially when it comes from a family member that you love, and respect, so much.

I got home at 10pm, watched a film, went to bed, was woken up at 5am by a rather pawsy cat lovingly scratching my face, rose early to pick my husband up from work (medical driving ban, long story), prepped some veggies for next week, made some coffee, had a bacon and mushroom sandwich (prior to the diet starting tomorrow) and settled in for my first film at 8.30am. It’s now 11.21am and I am part way through my second film today and fourth this weekend (Fifty Shades Darker, Fifty Shades Freed, Victoria and Abdul and now Murder on the Orient Express).

Coffee in the garden in the early morning sunlight.

One of the few positives of my husband working night shifts over the weekend is that I have the entire weekend, both days and nights, to myself. And much to contrary belief, I’m not embarking on multiple affairs with poets during that time! Although I did watch two Christian Grey films, but I don’t think that counts as cheating… Unless I watch all three in order again today. Which I might.

This cherished time alone is instead a time for me to refuel, relax and potter around my safe haven home trying to avoid cats deliberately tripping me down the stairs, getting dressed or opening the curtains! Me that is, not the cats. They prefer to pull curtains down rather than opening them, although it could be argued that the curtains are then open, but getting those kitties dressed… We tried that once at Christmas and Macho Meow Mandy Savage is now known as Kingsley Shanklebolt, aka Shanky.

Macho Meow Mandy Savage snuggling me this morning.

As I have such a busy work week next week, I’m going to spend some time today prepping all of my meals for next week (including breakfasts, lunches, snacks and bits for dinner) so I don’t have to worry about any of that next week when I am working twelve hour days! Once that is done, and after I have finished watching Murder on the Orient Express (which, for those of you wondering, is absolutely terrible. So bad. So very bad.) I will write a little, read a little, watch a little and enjoy a day dedicated to relaxation. I might even embark on some meditation.

Tomorrow, the health and fitness kick starts in earnest. By the end of June, I want to have lost at least a stone, and by that point I will be six weeks sober, so this is not an unrealistic goal. I will be starting to run and exercise again this week, which always positively impacts my emotional and psychological health (and physical health!) alongside walking to work and downloading some self-development audio books or podcasts that I can listen to whilst walking.

I’m sixteen days sober, into day seventeen, and I couldn’t be more excited to focus on improving my physical, emotional and psychological health. Today, as with the start of all new days, is a fresh start and one of the many first steps to a better life and being able to be the best version of myself. Focusing on myself enables me to focus on my family and their health and happiness is all that matters to me.

Here’s a non-alcoholic toast to the future. Santé!


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