What I’ve learned from a year without alcohol
I recently celebrated one year sober. I can’t believe how quickly it’s gone (250 days was my last milestone), but then again, this year has gone extraordinarily fast. As I reach this milestone I wanted to write and share my learnings.
Sometimes the thing you’re most proud of can’t be seen and I’ve probably kept quiet about it for fear of alienating my friends, in case they thought I was judging their drinking behaviour by highlighting my own sobriety. It’s been a tricky road to navigate at times.
Sobriety isn’t something that is traditionally recognised or celebrated in society. And this is a real shame because it’s awesome. So, I’ve decided that I’m no longer going to feel ashamed about celebrating this achievement. It’s worth celebrating to me so celebrate I shall.
Why did I decide to become sober?
Before I gave up drinking, I devoured sober blogs and ‘quit lit’, particularly from women my age, at the pace of a ravenous animal. I was so curious about living an alcohol-free life that all I wanted was to read the experiences of others who had gone before me. Their stories acted as an inspiration but also a warning, highlighting a path into alcohol dependency that I didn’t want to risk travelling down.
In sober and recovery circles they often use the analogy of a lift going down.
You get on the lift when alcohol is fun, you feel the buzz and thrill, there’s no blackouts and drinking is innocently pleasurable. Then, as the lift goes down, your experiences and interactions with alcohol get slightly darker and less pleasurable. Perhaps the hangovers get really bad, you develop post-drinking anxiety or you do things when drunk that you regret the next day and fill you with that slightly icky, shameful feeling.
Alcohol dependency gets deeper the longer you stay on the lift going down. However, you can choose to get off the lift whenever you choose. I didn’t want to wait and see what experiences I’d have with alcohol further down the line so I decided to get off early before anything else happened that I’d regret.
I already had regrets from my drinking behaviour and I didn’t want any more. I was done.
How did drinking affect my wellbeing?
Asking if I was an alcoholic is the million-dollar question and kind of a non-sensical one at that. Believe it or not people actually ask me this. The answer is no, but it’s not a simple question. Everyone is alcohol dependant on some level, there is a scale and each person has a completely different relationship with alcohol.
What I would say is that I spent more time romanticising about alcohol than was perhaps normal. No, I didn’t drink every day or even every week but I viewed alcohol with rosé-tinted glasses, I had an ‘anticipation’ around drinking that I don’t believe was healthy.
Alongside the anticipation of alcohol, I had a belief that I could consume it and become a better version of myself. Eventually I saw through this blatant lie. No, I was certainly not a better version of myself. Drinking made me sloppy, it made me sleepy and muddled, it frequently caused memory loss and a loss of inhibitions.
Sloppy is not sexy. Sleepy is not fun. Muddled is not eloquent. Loss of inhibitions is dangerous.
Someone once said ‘a drunk man’s words are a sober man’s thoughts’ but oh no, nothing could be further from the truth. Alcohol lowers your inhibitions so you say more than you mean to, no longer noticing the flashing warning lights designed to keep you safe.
This isn’t the authentic version of you, this is a drunk version that has no barriers, no warning lights and no holding back to keep you safe.
What does not drinking for one year do?
To be completely honest I don’t feel any different. Obviously, I don’t get hangovers and I can’t begin to tell you how freeing that is. Sometimes, if I’m feeling a bit blue, I’ll remind myself I’ll never wake up with a hangover again and I perk right up. It really is that joyful and liberating for me.
I think it’s hard to really remember how I physically felt when drinking as I wasn’t everyday, or even every week. I’ve enhanced my wellbeing in many other ways this year, alongside not drinking, so this also makes it difficult to highlight how avoiding alcohol has changed my physical health.
I know, on a deeper level, that my body will be subtly rejoicing the lack of alcohol in my system and will be rewarding me. There’s no doubt about it that all bodies thrive without alcohol in their systems.
I do know that nowadays if I don’t feel well, I don’t have a side dose of shame that I caused myself to feel unwell through drinking. Letting go of that guilt and shame is a real relief. Hangovers were so shame-filled for me.
Is it hard giving up alcohol?
At the beginning it really was. I had to deal with part of my mind that didn’t want to give up and was whispering in my ear saying “you’re not that bad, there’s no need to give it up completely, isn’t that too extreme?”. It was also telling me “life will be so hard without alcohol, you’ll be the odd one out, you won’t be able to handle it”.
My mind was latching onto the idea that I wasn’t ‘that bad’ and giving up was too extreme. I knew I wasn’t seriously alcohol dependant and, as a result, I felt like an imposter because I didn’t have a severe problem. Who was I to give up alcohol?
It can be hard to give up. You’re dealing with cravings and all the emotions that come with giving up as a start but you’re also living in a world that celebrates alcohol. Once you give up you realise it’s constantly in your face. You also notice how much people talk about alcohol and how present it is everywhere you look.
I also have this annoying habit of romanticising alcohol, even after a whole year of not drinking. Some of my greatest kicks were cold champagne at weddings, icy rosé at home in the garden and a chilled beer on holiday. These take a long time to die down.
I’ve spent this year feeling my way around this new sober skin, trying it on, getting the fit right so when the world gets back on its feet after the chaos of this year, I can go out there feeling strong and capable to do all those things without alcohol weakening me. And I have to say, I’m really, really looking forward to it.
What’s the best part about being sober?
The greatest challenges and changes for me have all been emotional and this is where I feel so many benefits and differences. I feel strong. Not just physically strong but mentally. Sobriety, like anything, is a muscle that needs time to strengthen and grow.
Not drinking can still feel hard and the temptations are still there. I still want something to take the edge off after a rough day, I still want to feel included and I still want to have a means of celebrating. Not drinking is still hard but the muscle is getting stronger.
I made a decision that was driven by my intuition and this is probably the most powerful part of it all. I intuitively knew I needed to give up and listening to that was hard but the consequences of finally listening to myself have been profound.
By taking alcohol out of my system I am making every decision with a clear head, I am no longer hiding myself behind a drink and I am fully stepping into my authenticity.
To anyone thinking life might be easier, simpler and calmer once you step off the alcohol lift, I encourage you to explore (here’s a good start). Read about what alcohol does to you on every level of your wellbeing because once you know this you can’t unsee it.
After reading how it worked on a chemical level in the body, I completely understood why it was such a huge part of my life for so long. For me this was a fundamental reason for giving up. Don’t feel like because you’re ‘not that bad’ you have no right to give up. This is madness and I wasted years thinking this way before I eventually gave up.
It’s been so worth it.
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