It was a combination of happy good things that made me feel so happy that I wanted to feel even happier and joined in with the others whom I was pouring champagne for.
One led to a few which led to a few nights of drinking and a few more months before I addressed it again.
On the day in question our house guests had left, we were having good friends to our home for an afternoon and dinner and I completed the purchase of my new car. I drove it home feeling on top of the world. The familiar rush, the excitement, the not knowing what to do with myself, the celebration with something fizzy- oh, that was missing. To hell with it I thought. I am going to celebrate too.
I bring this up now, as yesterday I felt all those feelings return, again for a happy, high reason.
We had been to visit a house we thought we might want to buy. Inside, it was as good as we had hoped. We definitely wanted to buy it. The more we thought about it, the better we decided it was. The next day we hot-footed it to a solicitor, put in a formal offer and received a formal acceptance. We had bought this perfect house in such a perfect location.
The thrill was a combination of success, buying something very nice, and spending lots of money. When we got home, OH gave me a big hug and said "Time for a celebration I think?". He opened a bottle of beer from the fridge and took a swig.
I paused. Flummoxed. What would I do? What could I do? How could I celebrate?
I would never, now, have a beer and I knew I wouldn't go out for wine. On a practical level I knew I wouldn't drink but on a psychological level, how I missed it. I had that same rush, the high feeling, the slight agitation of not knowing how to 'let go' almost. Very strange. I am definitely much more stable.
I spent a couple of hours drinking sparkling water, chatting with OH about our plans for the house and the things we had to do. It was exciting and I was pleased I had a clear head to think through the financial aspects and be able to plan the stages logically.
It was not lost on me that OH had his one beer then no more. That would have been worse than ever for me: finding out that we were not having a whole night of it. (Although OH's limited drinking has been a great help to me over the months as more often than not, he doesn't drink at all).
The time passed and soon it was time for supper and bed. My celebration was on-going and I was pleasantly exhausted from the excitement of it all. Today I woke up and my first thought was that THIS was my celebration: I had no hangover from a night of boozing, I felt as bright and excited today as I did yesterday not having dampened down my happiness with a depressant.
Another happy, clear headed day today. A true cause for celebration I think?