It was the dull headache that would remind me. The subtle pulsating in my frontal lobe as I got myself ready for work and started on the kid’s school lunches. The regret that I hadn’t stopped drinking before that one last wine.
You’d be forgiven for thinking that I’d been out somewhere, at a function maybe, or drinks with the girls. That this was the reason I’d drunk nearly an entire bottle of wine over the span of only a few hours.
But no, this was a fairly average way for me to feel on a Wednesday morning, or any morning really, after I’d spent an equally average night, simply decompressing after a day at work.
A recent study in the United Kingdom has revealed that 46 per cent of 10 – 14-year-olds have seen one or both of their parents drunk. I suspect the figures here in Australia wouldn’t be too different. In fact, they’re probably worse…
Generally I’d walk in the door at around 7pm from an unremarkable day.
Do I have a stressful job? Some days yes, some days no. Was it a particularly challenging day? Probably not, nothing out of the ordinary anyway. Like with any job where you are monetarily rewarded for your efforts, there is always some kind of pressure to perform.
On any given evening, I would usually walk on in the door, and after giving my husband and children a kiss, head directly to the fridge. There would be the usual questioning from all and sundry, often all at once.