What I Was Really Drinking When I Was Three Wines In.

I want to tell you about a very sophisticated measurement system I used to use for my own stress levels. It was scientific. It was reliable. It had a long history of use by women I admired. It was the wine glass.

Half a glass meant the day had been manageable. A whole glass meant the day had been rough. Two glasses meant the day had absolutely had it in for me. And three glasses, my friend, three glasses meant we had moved into a different postcode entirely. Welcome to overwhelm city, population: me.

I would like to tell you I am writing this from a place of having completely outgrown all of that. I am not. I still love a Shiraz. I still very much enjoy a Sav Blanc on a Friday. The wine is not the villain of this story. I'm the villain of this story. And so, probably, are you.

The night that made me write a book about it

There was one particular night I was three glasses in, sitting outside a winery in the Hunter Valley. We were supposedly having a break. Trying to rest. There were actual kangaroos jumping around in the paddock in front of me.

I had a problem.

The overwhelm hadn't gone anywhere. It was sitting right there on the deck next to me. Same to-do list, same forty-seven tabs open in my brain, same gnawing sense that everything was on fire and I was the only fire warden. All I had actually achieved was being slightly less capable of putting any of it out, in a more scenic location.

That moment is the reason my book is called Three Wines In. (No, I didn't drink three bottles of wine while I wrote it. Although there were some chapters where the temptation was significant.) The title is that night. The night I figured out the bottle wasn't the problem and the bottle wasn't the answer. The bottle was just a delay.

Wine. Chocolate. Netflix. Instagram. Online shopping at 11pm. They are all delays. They feel like rest because they take the edge off, but they are the snooze button. The alarm is still going to go off, and now you've slept in.

What I was getting wrong about overwhelm

Here is the thing I had to learn, and I want to save you the three-glass route to learning it:

It is not weakness. It is not laziness. It is not because you are bad at life. Overwhelm is your brain putting up a flare and saying too much incoming, I am at capacity, something needs to change.

Your brain was designed to look out for lions on a savanna and remember where the good berries were. It was not designed to manage your inbox, three group chats, the school calendar, twenty-four-hour news, four side hustles, an algorithm that is trying very hard to keep you scrolling, and the small voice that keeps reminding you that you haven't called your mum.

Your brain is not failing. Your brain is doing its best in a city that's three sizes too loud for it.

What actually works (and isn't a Shiraz)

Here is what I do now instead. And I do it imperfectly. Some days I still flop on the couch and let the algorithm have its way with me. The point is not to be a monk. The point is to have one or two things in the toolbox that are stronger than the snooze button.

1. Three breaths. The double inhale at the top.
Not a yoga retreat. Not a sound bath. Three deep breaths, with a second sharp inhale on the last one before you let it out long. This isn't woo-woo. It tells your nervous system to stand down. Free, takes thirty seconds, hard to argue with.

2. Find the one thing.
Not the ten things. Not the list. One thing. If you did one thing right now, what would clear the most space in your head? Do that. Don't tidy the kitchen, don't reply to seven emails, don't reorganise the bookshelf. The thing. You know the one. You've been avoiding it.

3. The three D's. Delete. Delegate. Defer.
Look at the rest of the list. What can you delete entirely? (You'd be amazed.) What can you delegate? (Asking for help is not failing.) What can you defer to a different week, a different month, a different season of life? Most overwhelm is not because you are doing too much. It is because you are carrying too much.

4. Be kind to yourself like she's your friend.
When you catch yourself saying things in your own head that you would never say to a friend, stop. Speak to yourself the way you would speak to her. The inner critic is not telling you the truth. The inner critic is just tired and loud.

Your turn

If you are reading this and quietly clocking that you have a scoring system of your own, be it wine glasses or Cadbury blocks or season three of something on Netflix that you don't even really like, I am not throwing stones. I am waving from the same boat.

But notice it. Don't ignore it. The thing you are reaching for at the end of the day is the alarm bell. The bell isn't the enemy. The bell is information.

And if you want to read the long version of all of this, the book is right there. Three Wines In. Named after the night I figured out the bottle wasn't the answer. Read it with a cup of tea. Or, you know, three wines in. You do you.

Hilary x