I’m sure we all have a vivid memory from the pandemic. Mine is sitting at my desk in front of a full screen of 20 world-class researchers in a Zoom meeting I was hosting. Meanwhile, my eight-year-old son was lying across my feet screaming, “I AM NOT DOING IT” over and over while ripping up his spelling work. All I could think about, as I plastered a frozen smile on my face, was of the bottle of Sauvignon Blanc sitting in my fridge. It was 10 am, and I wondered if it was too early to pour a glass and make myself feel better.
It was my 'Mummy wine'. I deserved it, right? The funny Facebook memes told me I did, my colleagues and mates laughingly told me I did. Social media told me I deserved a drink to cope with the stress of working motherhood. Each day I poured myself an ever-bigger glass of wine and felt my stress melt away. Then it became two, then two BIG ones. Then I was thinking about it earlier and earlier in the day, and before long the stress came back more quickly each day. I tried feebly to cut back and each day the stress of the pandemic and work and kids got worse and I “deserved” it again.
I was 42 and, suddenly, my funny 'Mummy wine time' had become grey area drinking. Lots of people I know are grey area drinkers, and they mostly would define themselves as “social drinkers”. Did I meet the criteria for alcohol dependence? No. Did I drink more than was good for me and struggle to control it? Yes indeed. My health started to take a hit in ways that I didn’t associate with my 'Mummy Wine'. Nights spent wide awake with insomnia, weight gain, bad skin, days of incurable brain fog... maybe it was perimenopause? It wasn’t until a check-up with my doctor showed how badly my overall health had declined in the pandemic that reality hit, the 'Mummy Wine' had to go.