I CONFESS..........

I confess...........

Right, I've put off this outpouring for long enough! I've stalled and sidetracked for too long!

As I proceed it is 1:06am on the morning of 6th September 2008. (EDIT:It's now 4am,was called to my PC -am scribing this to my laptop- about 2:30am to do a little first aid, it was chugging along at a snail's pace-God! I wish I knew what I was doing...grr! I've spent all this time reinstalling spybot and running all sorts of scans, and 'she' seems a little better, but hey ho, it's a couple of hours until the Chidlings are up and fighting over who goes onto 'miniclips' first..damned spyware!!!!) And so the procrastination continues.....

Today I finished the yearly, free-for-all shop for the back to school uniforms and stationery and smart new shoes.

The faces of the other parents, watching their teenage daughter try on that sixteenth pair of shoes, and veering dangerously into the realms of 'inappropriate footwear for school' because their patience is wearing tissue paper thin, and they've just about had a-bloody-nough, and spent far more than their means. Drifting into thoughts of....'Mmm? Did she really need that Jane Norman pencil case or the latest Nikes for cross-country? I must remember to remind her that the trainers are for school and not for kicking the toes out of whilst trying to impress that boy teaching her how to skateboard' and 'How has it come to this? My Mum went shopping for all I needed without me, I never got to choose, and had to make do with what she came home with...Mmmm? Note to self-Next year, shop in my lunch break without this little witch...Christ, how am I going to pay the credit cards next month?'

But, they all seem to wear this wry smile, have this glow of certainty, safe in the knowledge that sometime soon, this little angel will be someone elses problem...at least for about seven hours every weekday, and their days can once again be theirs, whether they work or not. No more huffing and puffing and filthy looks because they do not have the time, the funds or the imagination to keep their unforgiving offspring entertained. No more fortunes spent in the supermarket. No more coming home to a house full of their child's friends, with all that does ensue in the kingdom of the unsupervised, a stack of housework to 'redo' and the need to replenish the kitchen cupboards, or rushing to their childcare facility after work, to pick up their stroppy little so and so, who tonight and every night will be intent on making them feel guilty for 'abandoning' them with strangers, while they go off to work and have fun...yes, they may not say the words, but that's what they're thinking, and how guilty they're hoping you feel. Which of course you do, but, what can you do?

I don't have this feeling, and neither does my Husband. You see, we run a school kitchen. We work 37 weeks of the year and get full pay for the further 15 weeks as a 'retainer'.....it's bloody brilliant!!

But alas, this feeling of dread, which manifests itself, without fail, approximately 1 week before we are due to return to school after the Holidays, after six blissful weeks of laziness; of never having to worry about the alarm; Of putting off today what can be done tomorrow...or the next day...or the next; Of getting round to those jobs you just never have the time or the inclination to do during your working week; Of watching that late-night film, instead of turning in because of the impending 6am alarm; Of laying in 'til 8am..9am..10am..because you can; Of having a leisurely lunch at 3pm, because if you don't get round to making dinner until 8pm...it just doesn't matter...Because you have all the time in the world......Don't you?

During the lost days of Summer, your body clock and the tick-tock clock have no meaning, nothing is rushed, you have time to do everything you want to do, need to do....Don't you? Think about it...six whole weeks away from the daily slog; Six whole weeks in which you can decorate that room that's been niggling you for just too long now; To visit people you just do not have time to see when you are burdened by your contracted hours; Time to paint that picture, that has sat in your sketch book as a half thought, an unfinished imagining; That story or article you have been itching to complete...at last time to put some semblence of order into those jumbled notes, and midi-sentences jotted in haste between this importance or that; Time to watch a sunset and sunrise all in one day, because if you have a snooze mid-afternoon, who's going to care?

Of having time to really share quality moments with your nearest and dearest; To sit and really listen to what they have to say, because later on will happen, whatever, and your sitting awhile, just cannot be compared to the neglectful you, the you that you inadvertantly become during your working days, which consume your thoughts, your time and your energy, stealing you from those who just want to share that silly something, or be comforted at a time of sorrow or pain, or just want to see your face brighten with pride at something they did for you, and for those 'abandoned', during your time you give yourself over to the paymaster, instead of watching that DVD with them, the time spent at home, but not really there as you're lost in the worries and wherefores of the tomorrows that you just cannot spare a concerted minute for those that just want a little piece of you. Children just will not truly understand the reasons as to why you leave them, day in and day out, to go to work, instead of giving yourself wholly to them, until they have to go out to work to fend for them and theirs. I didn't, I resented the very core of my Mother for a very long time because I felt so neglected and hard done by because I had to care for my bratty younger brother AND do chores around the house, none of my friends had to do any of this as their Mother's stayed at home. I see now that she had to do what she had to do, that we were not in the same 'class' as my friends, my Father simply did not earn the income my peer's Fathers did, and she just HAD to work...but at the time there was just no telling me.

This is why-until my children have left school- I need to stay, doing what I'm doing, because they'll remember.......

Time...Time to do whatever, whenever.....

So, why is it that list we wrote at the end of July has not been ticked off past;

"*Sorting the Boy's bedroom within an inch of its life" (Done and dusted and vaccuumed!)

"*keeping the garden at bay" (That said, after the rain we've had I need to be quite vicious again with my secateurs, and the bloody Bindweed still doth try and strangle anything within an inch of number 18.......we are definitely going to fall out sometime soon!!)

*"Decluttering as much as poss" (We have come to the conclusion today, after seeing the chaos in the loft - that "*Sort loft for 1.Ebaying 2.Charity Shopping 3.Chucking/Recycling"-yep another job that didn't get jobbed!!-that we will 1.Never get round to setting up an Ebay account 2.Probably just take it all to the Charity Shop 3.And chuck/recycle whatever the aforementioned shop will not take.

We have, however, pretty much shredded every bank statement and bill since 1999 that has been lying around in drawers and varying sized boxes, "just in case we needed to reference them". And have about 5 bin bags full of shredded paper that..mmmm?... I'm tempted to keep because it could come in handy for 'artplay' with the kids...I'm a nightmare, I really am! But, have to say that knowing I can access a drawer or cupboard without it sticking because of it's surplus contents, or tripping over that box that I don't even know what's in it for tenth time today, is making for a more chilled house. They say in Feng Shui that a good decluttering lets the Chi flow freely...they ain't wrong!!

There are another 'several' jobs that haven't even been hinted at during this time. One being to finish off decorating our bathroom, we have most of the accoutrements needed to finish said job, so there really is no need for it not be done.

What in God's name did we do in the past six weeks?

We did manage to take the Children away for a week. My Aunt owns a 6-berth, static caravan down on Rye Harbour, on the edge of a bird sanctuary, which is edged on two sides by the sea....Bliss...or so you'd think!

The caravan is sited within a holiday camp, a bit like Butlins, but with a raggedy-eared, giant rabbit called 'Loopy', and an even raggedy-eared bunch of family members flouncing about, acting as 'the entertainment'....... the life guards.......'chalet maids'....etc,etc,etc!!

Who were we to complain, it was free holiday, huh?

We did some site seeing and used the pool, but the kids really wanted to go to the 'Loopy Show' in the evening...our hearts dropped...I'd been on a few Butlin weekenders as an adult, usually 'Old Skool' and 'Motown' themed, adults only weekends, which I really enjoyed. I even attempted a 'fun-packed week' with my eldest, whilst pregnant with my middle child and vowed that I would never again believe their lies of 'non-stop family fun'

These holiday camps are soul-destroying places, losing the will to live kind of places. Where the people that frequent this place of all things tasteless and tawdry are always called 'Les' or 'Marlene' and say shit like 'I'm really wacky,me' and 'Come and dance to the Birdie Song you party pooper' and boast that "..this is our seventh year running.." with a pride which only befalls the bored and deluded........I hate them, I wish they would contract the Ebola Virus there and then and bleed and ooze from every orrifice until they died, right there in front of me, in a pile of pus and hair and teeth!! Seriously, I loathe these people...does that make me a snob? To be honest I don't give a flying fuck! You know these people's offspring will be the new generation that regale tales of that one and only annual holiday to anyone that will listen, where they'll sleep with at least two of the 'coats', When they're at least 13 1/2!!, it's best to save yourself for someone special huh? Or spend all year practicing their talentless 'talent' for the Friday night 'Tard Fest, and aspire to be just like their own personal 'Welcoming Redcoat', although slightly gutted that this particular one doesn't remember them from last year!

But, I digress...The 'Loopy Show'...The children, or rather the Boy's, made promises of best behaviour, and not to get grumpy and moody the moment we say that it's time to go...C, my rather beautiful, 12 going on18 year old daughter, wanted to go but wasn't "..joining in.." They had been good enough all day to deserve it, and there was no real excuse we could use to get out of it.
So, at 7.40pm (The show started at 7.30 and we were hoping it would be nearly over by the time we got there if truth be told!) we ventured forth into the "Showbar"...We sat down, and gradually lost all yearning to live past this night, nay this next half hour......The Boys got up and danced the dance of children and village idiots, following the 'moves' moved and the 'shapes' thrown by this moth-eaten rabbit suit, they sang a song "Big Fish, Little Fish, Cardboard Box", which I still cannot think about without humming for the rest of the day...oh, the torture!! And a host of other 'family favourites' which entertained the children for the next...no, it wasn't a lifetime, it just F***ing felt like it. We sat, nursing our lemonades, wishing ill on the toothless and rose gold bedecked, wishing death to anyone over the age of 10 that got up and joined in the party. Then it was over, was it really only half past eight?

This was when the children realised there was an arcade in the next room, after about the 3rd or 4th time returning to ask for money, I had to make a deal with them, the Boys could earn their 50ps by entertaining us by dancing through an entire song, and C could earn hers by sitting at the table to watch our drinks/bags etc, whilst we escaped outside for a cigarette. Which was not the most pleasant of experiences.

Outside the clubhouse was the play park, which had spotty youths (God! I sound old!)draped across it, seeing who can shout the loudest curse, or take the hardest punch to the face '...coz I'm hard...' to impress the 14-year-old, creole clad, slappers, all proclaiming they were 'JUICY' or 'GANGSTA' or so it said in lurid colours across their asses, casually pretending not to notice. And old women, with far too much make-up and far too little clothing on, squawking about "...him..." or "...her..." or "...c'mere now or you'll get an hiding..." to one of, one can only assume, their rag-tag children, or making obscene comments to the chavvy boys leaping about on their BMXs. Needless to say we didn't have many cig breaks, and how could we leave the children out of eye-shot in this God-awful place?

This was truly Hell on Earth...and I was bloody sober!!

We didn't stop much later, and went back to the safety of our 'van, on the residential side of the site. It was a little more subdued here, until the neighbouring 'van's inhabitants returned, no doubt from another jubilant evening of 'Loopy' entertainment, and partying hard with the 'faithful'. My children were asleep within 20minutes of our return, and we were just settling down a while later when we heard what could only be described as at least 30 full-grown men, with boots on their feet and drums in their hands, parading through the neighbouring caravan.....FFS! I was livid, it wasn't disturbing our three but I just couldn't rest with all that noise. I peeped out of bedroom curtains, straight into their lounge area, all lights a blazing and five tired, young children stomping and bickering and begging to be fed, whilst their inebriated parents slouched on the couches, ignoring the children's fussing as they were too embroiled in their own conflict. This went on for the next hour or so, until the children took themselves off to bed. It may be 2am but....Peace at last!

The next day we awoke about 8am, and I did not hush the children as they excitedly rushed about our hollow-floored abode, as they thundered the length of the adjoining deck, taking aim at the seagulls with imaginary guns, for fear of disturbing our neighbours (F**K 'EM!).

Once breakfasted and dressed, we ventured out into the Bird Sanctuary, a bleak landscape, wild winds blowing in from the sea, whilst dried grasses hissed and whipped at our legs. I gathered seed pods as the children ran ahead, snippets of delighted screams reached our ears before being snatched away by the blustering gales. Now this was the bliss we needed, everybody happy. We pretty much bimbled through this day, ambling down to the sea to skim stones and find treasure, to watch the grey waves crash against an unyielding coastline, to nod and smile at our fellow ramblers, all sharing that scene, that smell of the sea, that sound of the elements at war.

We later swam in the on-site pool, the floor of which was gritty with what had fallen from the sandy bodys and heads of unwashed children. We didn't even contemplate the use of the other facilities on offer..ooh the germs..eek! I'm not pernickety in any shape or form, but it was bad enough sharing chlorinated water with these harbingers of filth, let alone the pummelling waters of the Jacuzzi, or the sweat-stained pine of the sauna.

Whatever happened to that Tam of yore, who's own red tresses matted to dreads one fateful summer of festivals?

After dinner the subject of what we were going to do that evening arose, SHIT! Of course they wanted to go out, go back to that place of painted on smiles and grimaces of endurance. (Ours, not anyone else that I had noticed and shared a knowing look of 'when will it ever end' with?!) And I knew I could not do it without the aid of a stiff drink.....Herein lies the confession, hinted at, all that time ago.....and you're still here?

I sat the children down and said that, as we were on holiday, would it be ok with them if I had a couple of drinks tonight, if I promised I wouldn't get drunk, and I wouldn't go back to '...how it was before...' but, it was cool if they didn't want me to. They all agreed..Phew! I could not have endured another evening unaided!!

Please do not negate my battle since May, my long, arduous journey into sobriety, my nightmarish headaches of withdrawal, and times of being all-consumed by my absolute need to drink, nor my strength at overcoming the cravings.

As I have stated in previous recountings of my troubled times. I AM an alcoholic, even if I never take another drink in my life, I shall always be an alcoholic. My last battle was not in vain. I will not lie, the slowly subsiding cravings came back with a force, but I had been completely sober for a long enough period, that I am not getting the physical withdrawal that I once did, not so long ago.
As my last endeavour to give up my demon, was not as bad as the time before, nor the time before that...... I caught this bout of prolonged drunkeness before it got to the stage I had to drink before I even got out of bed in the morning; Before I would steadily drink throughout each long, tiresome day; Of resenting my lapses into parenting, of having to keep my wards safe and fed and clean, whilst having great difficulty even doing this for myself; Before returning to my own dishevelled bed as the last of my children retired to bed, sipping that last sip, and drifting into the half-sleep of the addicted, the slumber of the unfullfilled, the sleep of those lost in their own selfish existence. I didn't allow alcohol to completely blind my senses to what is important, to what I could lose, to what I need to be strong for....this time!

The cravings slip faster from my grasp as each day passes, and any intent of drinking one or two just for today, have all but left me...but, I know that Devil lurks in the shadows, waiting for a time when my resolve is diminished through stress or lack of self-worth, ready to lend that comforting shoulder of oblivion.

I have been to numerous AA meetings in the past, and found them to be of great support, and comfort, as I knew the people I stood before would not... could not judge me, as they too knew what it is to struggle with this monkey on your back, this albatross around your neck, and how easy it is to succumb to the temptation to be numbed again, against the dark places within yourself, the black voids of your past hurts or fears. I know what it is to stand up and say that you have fallen by the way-side, given in to temptation. But this time it is different, because of solemn vows of sobriety to my children and Husband, to stand before them and admit defeat, is not the same as a room full of strangers, who know how hard it is sometimes, they would be crushed by my lack of respect for them by not keeping my word, and not thinking highly enough of them to put their need for a calmer, sober me, before my own neglectful needs for sedation.

This has been my first relapse since May 12th 2008, 117 days ago.

I would love to promise myself and those that fear the return of my damaged and spiteful alter-ego, that I will never drink again. A promise pledged in all sincerity, to my family, to the only people in my life that I can find the strength to stay sober for, for the somebodys who are so much more important than me............. I promise to try my damndest not to fail them or myself by becoming that person, none of us enjoyed being around.

I'm doing it, I'm living a sober life.

Yeah, so, I've had a little relapse, a couple of drinks-and it was just a couple- a little light-headedness without the hangover, nor with the betrayed looks on the faces of my children because of my broken promises, because I did get drunk, and it has gone back to '...how it was...'

I have to be honest, when I asked them if it would be ok, I made that promise, but did not REALLY know if I had the resolve to keep it. It was with those tentative steps, I could have leapt headlong back into those 'darker times' and I could have lost everything, and they would have lost me. I really just did not know. I knew the crippling headaches of withdrawal had subsided some time ago, so, the physical side of things was sorted. It was just whether I could be strong enough to fight the inevitable yearnings to keep drinking, that night and next.

But, I know that if that urge overwhelms me once more, there is little I, or anyone else can do to stop the need to feed the demon.

But, I did not shown my weak will, nor have my insecurities dictate my destructive path. I allayed my cravings-that manifested themselves at regular intervals over the next week or so, and, if I'm honest are with me as I write this-with the knowledge that my children, and my beautiful Husband TRUSTED me and believed in me enough for them to give me permission to-potentially-leave them for this cruellest and most selfish of pastimes.

I shall sign off now by sending good energies to those that are not blessed with the support I have, that are lonely in their struggle to find their true path in life unaided by whatever it is that makes it all feel that much better for just a short while, but know that by eradicating this insincere crutch, it will make their horizons seem that much clearer, and that much closer.

Do not ever feel you are alone in your battle, there is always someone willing to listen if you have something to say.