“There’s no one so pious as a reformed whore” the old saying goes.

When I quit drinking, the last thing I wanted to be was a pious sober bore.

I didn’t want to be that person who tutted when someone topped up their wine glass, or frowned at the second beer.

But, I also didn’t want to spend my time as the lone sober person at the drunkfest.

There has to be a happy medium.

Thankfully, I have managed to walk the line fairly successfully, due in no small part to the fact that my husband and most of our friends never drink in the same dysfunctional way that I used to.

So my sobriety is almost never commented on. I am normal. I fit in.

Until……summertime.

Regular readers of my blog, may recall a couple of posts from way back in the summer of 2015, when I was newly sober (see here and here and here)

I survived that summer by simply removing myself from the situation.

As I have learned more about being sober in a boozy world, I have found myself getting far less judgemental.

Don’t judge someone until you’ve walked a mile in their shoes? I watch some people struggling with their drinking, or rationalizing it…and I know that I have hiked several long pathways in that particular footwear.

I remember when I thought that sober people were uptight funbusters – and I am aware now, that merely not having a drink in my hand, will relegate me to “killjoy” status before you can say “boring’ in some people’s eyes. Until they finally get it. (If they ever do)

But lately, I have been considering giving up this battle against pious reform –dom , and embracing it with both arms.

I have often written about the need for strong boundaries for healthy self-care. And most of the time, this has been pretty easy for me – just a couple of people that I no longer spend time with – they barely miss me now I’m not boozing anyway – and the occasional refusal of an invitation and voila! Boundaries in place.

Until….summertime.

What do you do when your husband’s BF#2 is full on shitfaced and stoned? Again and again?

Well, I’ll tell you what I did.

I freakin’ lost it.

Gone was my calm non –judgemental aura. Gone was any patient understanding that all paths are unique. Gone was my resolve not to be that pious, non- drinking sober funbuster…

“You know what your problem is? (I shrieked, very loudly) ‘Adding booze turns you into an instant fucking asshole” (and other such commentary).

It’s going to be a long summertime.

We’ll talk more later.

Love, Jackie.

The Sober Summer Survival Guide

Summer’s here….and the living is easy..
Er, No. It’s not easy. If you are newly sober, or want to be sober, then the words of the song should go..”Summertime…..What Fresh Hell is this?” (except it doesn’t rhyme). Summer brings all it’s own special brand of torture – Boozy BBQ’s, visits from the Mother-in-law, All Inclusive ‘retreats” to Cabo…..not to forget that little Jimmy and Janey are home for an entire six weeks…..

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