Soberternity?

Sober October, or Sobertober, or Stoptober - though I think that last one refers more to smoking than drinking and I'm here to discuss drinking (as ever) .  Like Movember wherein all men decide to look like paedophiles for a month in the name of charity, Sobertober pops up every year to turn us all into temporary tee-totals, and your valiant friends proudly proclaim that they're really going to do it this year, and they get 2-3 weeks in and they give up but as they raise their ill-gotten pints to the ceiling they shrug and sigh and say "Well at least I tried, which is more than most."  And they're right not to feel too disappointed as they take that sip; giving up alcohol is difficult in this miserable country, which pulses sickly under a societal blanket upon which is printed "Drink to forget" on every patch.  And those who give it a go should be commended, however far they get.  For every person attempting Sobertober there's a thousand who scoff at the idea of not drinking alcohol.  We British aren't a herd that like to fathom a life without the booze, let alone a month.  That's why we come up with good-will challenges to get people to even entertain the notion. 

It'll be the third year in a row for me, (and the last two were successful, before you ask).  I know my reputation as a pisshead is firm among my well-wishers (even mummy thinks so), but despite this I actually possess something in the way of will power.  At the start of this year I went vegan and am showing no signs of looking back.  I've never been a smoker, my drug use is intermittent and only when someone else suggests it, and I don't really eat junk food (unless Doctor Who is on).  Yo, I've even more or less quelled my Trichotillomania this year (although none of you even know what the fuck that is).  So while alcohol is my primary vice, and one which I flock back to more often than I probably should, I can let it go from time to time (but, at any rate, fuck Movember).

Booze is a mainstay of my life's philosophy.  It forms a thematic basis for the majority of my lyrics and is relevant in some form or other in my fiction too.  I am known to, as one reviewer of my work put it, explore and explain the drunken mind because my own mind is often in that very state.  And at a cost.  I am an introvert and a depressive and neither of those traits fare well under the influence.  With this year being slightly unkind to me I've hit it harder than usual and the psychological effects are starting to mount.  I spout misery, misanthropy and self-destruction far too often, but only with the drink in my periphery.  The drink does this to me.  As I tearfully said to my brother after an unexpectedly emotional trip to Munich this month, I've had a decent life and I don't know why I want out of it.  Drink.  Drink!  That's why!  I'm giving up the drink NOW, not in a few days' time.  NOW!  And why should I stop at the midnight chime of All Hallows' Eve just because the challenger smiles and says "Have one on me, you've earned it"?  I'll just be back to misery and self-destruction again.  Square one after a four week breather.  What's worthwhile about that?  The only other lasting effect of my alcohol consumption, after the hangover is cleared and the money replenished, is that I push people out of my life.  Nobody likes a misery guts, especially a drunk one.  I've lost people I'd rather have liked to hang onto and I don't think that next swig of cold Heineken is worth the loss, to be honest.

Sure, without the drink I never would have written The Life and Loves of Jet Tea but did the world need it?  It was a personal achievement, but so is leaving an attractive corpse.

I'm going to plough successfully through October like I always do and at the end of it I'm going to try and keep going.  If you're ever with me PLEASE don't make light of my endeavour - PLEASE don't cheekily wiggle a Jagermeister under my nose and ask "Are you sure?" and PLEASE don't assume I'm missing something from my life.  I want to keep you and I want to enjoy my time with you and I want to believe that I can do that without the strong stuff filling my addled brain and draining my poor wallet.  I want to keep you all, I will lose no more.  Sure I'll probably slip up on special occasions, and I don't doubt I'll find myself rocking back and forth on dull evenings with a comic-strip thought bubble encasing a luscious bottle of Scotch protruding from my brain.  But maybe - hopefully - next year won't be a year of loss and destitution.  I want memories, not regrets.  Please support me and know that whenever and wherever possible, I'll support anything you choose to do to enrich your life.  Sober Joe does like you!