5 Years Alcohol Free and I Realize It Was Day One That Mattered Most.
I took my last sip of alcohol five years ago. At the time, I didn’t know it was my last sip. I didn’t even know my name because I was blacked out drunk. It was pumpkin beer, my first of the season, and something that I longed for all year long. A favorite thing of mine. But by the time I got around to drinking it-there was no savoring, no taking it all in with the fall atmosphere, no clicking my bottle with special cheers as I felt grateful for my life. Instead, I was just swaying around, slurring gibberish, and making no sense. Man, I really wasted my last sip.
Days went by and I didn’t know that it was my last sip. I was still feeling the effects of my hangover and I hadn’t even come close to thinking about what was next. I just felt this deep pit that I would later learn (thanks to Liz Gilbert) meant . I can only describe it now as an aching exhaustion, maybe even despair. I knew I did not want to feel that way anymore. I couldn’t face the anxiety, the body aches, the shame, and the regret. I couldn’t keep up with the “Look at me, I have it all together” lie for another second.
I didn’t want to be “sober” though. I was like a child who throws herself on the floor because she wants a popsicle but only if its purple. Blue won’t do. I tried so many other ways to wrangle my way out of having hangovers, getting too drunk, and experiencing blackouts while still drinking. So when I had the last sip, I was not convinced.
A few days of not drinking went by and I wanted to go to sleep and wake up 5 years sober. I hated the thought of being new at something. I didn’t want to fumble, mess up, or fail. I didn’t want to have to struggle at social gatherings, or tell people that I wasn’t drinking, or face one bit of the hard work. I just wanted to be there. That place where alcohol was no longer the main subject of every single thought. The place where it wasn’t the only topic. The place where I would be able to for sure, 100%, positively know and feel confident that I was going to do this not drinking thing. A place where I could live a life alcohol-free.
Today, I am at that place. I have lived five whole years without another sip of alcohol. I’ve faced social gatherings. I’ve had the talks. I’ve come out (really freaking out) about the fact that I don’t drink and why. It was a lot of hard work. Exhausting at times. But a different kind of exhausting. Not the kind that I felt five years ago when I was aching for something different. The kind that you get after a long day’s work. Hard but finished. Being tired from work is easier than being tired from a spinning shame cycle.
As I reflect, I realize that I didn’t need to be “good” at being alcohol free. I didn’t need to be better at it, secure in it, or “crush” it in order to live this way. The thing that was most important in solidifying my success was starting. It wasn’t the five years that was going to count the most. It was day one. It was the willingness to start something, to go for something terrifying. I read a quote once that said something about how you build confidence by practice and failure. In other words, you don’t build confidence in doing something new by laying awake all night and thinking about it. If I had waited until I felt confident that I was never going to drink again I would still be blacking out on Tuesdays while parenting my kids.
Five years was never the most important time. It was always day one.
When I was newly sober and I read posts from people who had quit drinking five whole years ago I thought there was no way they could understand where I was coming from. They were already so good at it, they were beyond it, above it. They were done. While, some of that was true, I am way over alcohol now after 5 years, a lot of it was not. I still have to do the work. I still, five years later, have to explain to someone new in my life that I don’t drink. I still have to remind myself that checking out with a buzz would not be better than deep breathing-even though I really f’ing hate deep breathing. I still wonder “would this be more fun if I were drinking?” but then quickly remind myself that if it’s not fun without alcohol then it’s just not fun. Alcohol made it tolerable. There’s still a lot of work and alcohol plays a huge role in our society and therefore a role in my life whether I want it to or not.
Most importantly though, after five years it never gets old. Waking up without a hangover is still just as good as it was back then. Going to a party and leaving with the ability to use my legs, drive a car, and remember what I said the next day is still remarkably satisfying. Being of sound mind at all times, while not always easy, is such a gift that I can’t get enough of. I’ve never once taken for granted how much better my mental health is. I still cry in gratitude that I have peace in my life. The fact that I don’t drink alcohol is still one of my favorite things about myself. It’s not something I’m ashamed of or that I wish I had a better handle on. I’m glad things weren’t going so well for me or otherwise I would have never known this life existed.
I guess as I celebrate today with my bubbly AF concoction and my tears of joy I won’t be patting myself on the back for how far I’ve come. Instead, I’ll hug myself tightly for starting to begin with. It was always day one that mattered the most.
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Originally published at https://www.spaliveaf.com on September 14, 2022.
