My name is Lynne and I’m a skincare addict. Seriously. At the last count, I have over £3000 worth of products. An accumulation of nearly two years. I hope my husband isn’t reading this. I tell him it’s all from Poundland. It’s not.
And it’s no coincidence that I’m nearly two years sober. I quickly replaced one addiction for another. Its my addictive personality. So shoot me.
Two whole years alcohol free. Which obviously makes me a super hero. Especially in the middle of a global pandemic. I like to big myself up. And I will, because it’s probably my most important achievement in life.
Why did I give up alcohol…? Well, the middle class insta answer would be “it just wasn’t serving me anymore, it was stopping me from living my best life and being my best self…”
All credible answers. I’ve trotted out those lines myself in certain situations. I’m going to be real for a minute though. I HAD a rock bottom. I came off the rails. I thought about alcohol all the time. I used it to self medicate. I drank when I was happy, sad, anxious, depressed, stressed. Literally, any emotion at all and I was reaching for the wine to either heighten it or suppress it.
You can’t heighten happiness with a depressant though. And Alcohol IS a depressant. It’s rocket fuel in fancy packaging. It’s gasoline for anxiety and depression.
Temporarily you can feel better, because it releases endorphins. And that’s why it’s addictive.
But not in the cool way exercise does. That shit is permanent and long lasting. Alcohol is a sneaky fucker. It gives you the little boost you’re craving. The serotonin and dopamine. But then it whips them away quicker than you can say “blackout” (and I suffered from those frequently too) and leaves you so deficient in those, that what actually sticks around longer than that dodgy guy at the bar, is the crashing low. If you’re drinking too much, it’s more than just a fleeting hangover. It’s panic. Anxiety. Low mood. Depression. And guess what I did to combat that for years….? Yep, drink more. It’s a shitty cycle and one I just didnt want to stick around for anymore.
My relationship with alcohol is over.
It was like what I imagine dating a fuck boy is like. Constantly promising things they don’t deliver. (I’m happily married but you KNOW, I have t’internet, I know what a fuck boy is. I’m down with the millennials….)
For example, it gives you a temporary high but completely screws you over afterwards but you keep going back for more. Like a fuck boy.
I wouldn’t let a man treat me like that if I was single so why was I letting alcohol do that to me repeatedly…?
Toxic AF. (That’s As Fuck not Alcohol Free…??)
So just no. It went.
It was paradoxically the hardest yet easiest thing I’ve ever done. Better relationships with everyone in my life. Especially my kids. I have two girls. I want them to look up to me. Not pity me. And I was a pitiful mess.
Not anymore. I glow. Through sobriety and skincare addiction.
I’m kidding. I don’t. I’m lying in my bed with a massive teenage like spot on the side of my nose wondering what I’ve done to deserve such cruelty considering I SPEND SO MUCH ON SHIT FOR SKIN…???
But, here’s the thing. I’m not an idiot. I know all the creams in the world won’t fix things. Like all the gins in the world didn’t either.
But a £50 Clarins cream won’t make me blackout.
It won’t make me repeat myself.
It won’t make me shout at the kids to get to bed so I can pour another glass of wine.
It won’t make me cry. (The price tag might make the husband cry a bit)
It won’t paralyze me with fear unable to move unless I have another drink.
It won’t make me forget sex. (Sober sex is fucking glorious btw…could write a whole article on that particular loveliness…)
In short, expensive face creams is an addiction I can handle. One that won’t ruin my life. It gives long lasting happiness. Unlike alcohol or the bizarre imaginary fuck boy.
*If you enjoyed this post; you can follow Lynne on Instagram @restingmumface.