I quit alcohol in September last year. Here's what I'm learning

If you’re attempting ‘Dry January’, perhaps you’re counting down the days until you can grab a beer again. I remember one year a group of friends held a midnight party on 31st Jan to break their abstinence, complete with a decorated cake and other celebrations.

In contrast, I’m planning to maintain my agreement with myself — which I made back in September — and steer clear of alcohol way past the end of January. I aim to keep this up indefinitely.?

Why write about it?

Well, some of the ways I like to motivate myself when making habit changes include:

• Writing about my experiences as a way of reflection and self-learning?
• Sharing my goals and plans for accountabiilty
• Charting my progress as I go along?

Which is why I’m sat in bed this Sunday morning with a decaf coffee, my laptop and (slightly smugly) no hangover. I have Cerys Matthews’ 6 music show on and I’m feeling good.?

Before I get more deeply into my experience, I want to be clear and say I don’t consider myself to have an addiction to substances. This is simply my own experience, not my attempt to naively step into the territory of talking about substance addiction or to imply that I understand what addiction might feel like, I don’t. That said, I won’t pretend alcohol wasn’t (or isn’t) a problem in my life. It was and has the potential to still be.

So, I’m sharing and writing this partly for myself and also for anyone similar to me who’s sober-curious and may find it helpful. I’m also writing this because a lot of people have asked me ‘why?’, when I’ve declined a drink recently. Asking someone why they’ve quit drinking is something I’d strongly discourage in general, but for me, it’s a question I’m open to answering nevertheless.?

The ‘why?’ for me has a few diffferent answers. Initially I convinced myself that I was doing this in solidarity with a close friend who was giving up. And because we’d often go to the pub together this was the reason I told myself for a while, that I was simply giving up in support of them. But I think this was just an excuse. In reality I have a whole host of reasons that are personal to me:

• Wanting to consistently ‘meet myself sober’, including at parties and gatherings, finding out who I am without that false confidence which drinking might bring?
• Health and wellbeing: as a woman in my mid-forties I’m aware that peri-menopause is probably around the corner (or here maybe) and I’m trying to take even better care of my body
• To help me make better decisions in life. I’m sure I’m not alone in having made some really poor choices while influenced by alcohol.

Although, as mentioned, I don’t consider myself addicted, I have noticed that once I start drinking I don’t appear to have an ‘off’ switch. And that is problematic. For me and others around me. This summer I went to the Lake District with friends and was looking forward to enjoying how beautiful it is and getting in the water. Unfortunately on night one I had everyone (including strangers) drinking shots in the local village pub at closing time, which turned into a lock-in, which turned into me feeling too unwell to paddle-board the next day and sitting on the shore while everyone else enjoyed themselves. This might have seemed cute and funny twenty years ago, perhaps, but doesn’t sit well with me as I am now.

There was the time I stayed out drinking and missed my flight

The problem of not having an ‘off’ switch when I start drinking has followed me around and caused me a lot of emotional pain and also cost me money too. There was the time I missed a flight home from New York because I’d stayed out drinking the night before and slept through my alarm. The worst part (in my opinion) of this was that my friends there had gone home around 7 or 8pm and I’d stayed out, inexplicably, on my own talking with random strangers, sitting at the bar. Thinking back on it now, I suppose I was also putting myself in potential danger too, drinking solo in Brooklyn late into the night. So there was that. Another lost day and ￡500 to book a fresh flight. That was a sad day at the airport.?

So that’s the background. What has my experience of quitting been like so far?

At first I felt like I was distanced, even excluded, from ‘fun’. I went to an album launch shortly after quitting and felt like I was the only one not drinking (which probably wasn’t true) and it seemed to me like I was watching everyone having fun through the window. At the end of the night a friend suggested continuing the party at theirs and I sulkily declined, not feeling the attraction of spending more time together when I felt so isolated and detached. So there was a sense of being different, the uncool kid, which I think is societal and deep-rooted, and something I’m intrigued by. This ‘peer pressure’ was something I was actually putting on myself, because nobody was trying to make me drink. Peer pressure from me to me. And because, over the years, I’d benefitted from the lower inhibitions alcohol can offer, I felt awkward in myself, almost as if I didn’t know what to say or do or how to act.

It had felt like part of my identity

So there was that social awkwardness, which I expected to experience. And then there was a deeper piece around identity. I worked for a year in a Welsh brewery and prior to that I used to spend my Sunday afternoons looking after a friend’s craft beer shop and bar which was up at the castle in Hay-on-Wye. I loved the world of brewing and beer. I found it fascinating and I enjoyed the sense of community as I immersed myself in getting to know more about the process of brewing, and the culture of the craft beer industry, with curiosity and enthusiasm. Prior to that I’d had a big wine client in my PR business. Beverages were work as well as play — I still have friends in that world and it feels like part of who I am. By turning my back on alcohol, am I turning my back on part of myself and a network of great people? Once again the fear seems to be exclusion. In reality there’s no door that’s being padlocked to me because I’ve chosen not to drink, but I guess the reality is I’m unlikely to work in a bar or brewery again, despite adoring those chapters of my life. So there’s a bit of mourning for me about parts of my life that I feel I’m saying farewell to. But I still feel that the benefits of quitting outweigh the downsides for me. And of course there are some tasty alcohol-free beers such as Lervig ‘No Worries’ for example. Had a couple of those on Christmas Eve. And on Christmas Day a dear friend kindly bought some really great rose kombucha as a substitute for prosecco. It was delicious. Friends have been and are being incredibly supportive and thoughtful.

I feel currently like I’m in a bit of a transition in my journey of sobriety. I feel like I haven’t quite mentally ‘left’ that world of beer and wine. I love to think about food pairings or tasting flights of thirds, enjoying the smell of ingredients, learning about flavours and fresh ideas. To me it all goes hand-in-hand with my love of food and food festivals. I sometimes want to argue back to myself that I can’t quit drinking because I have a desire to someday head up a food and beer festival and how can a teetotaller be the right person for that task? Yet at the same time I don’t quite yet identify myself as part of a crowd of non-drinkers — I’m aware that there is community to be found, and I’m not sure I’m ready to admit to myself that it’s for ever, hence I’m still reluctant to identify myself in that way. Which feels interesting.?

Does it mean I’m no fun any more?

Like many people, I’ve in the past equated not drinking with being ‘no fun’. And one of my fears is that I’ll become boring, in my own eyes and the eyes of others. I mean, that’s a fear I have all the time in general, not just around this topic!

In truth the things that I consider to be ‘fun’ don’t generally involve alcohol anyway. These include: ecstatic dance, cooking outdoors, growing veg, climbing a mountain, swimming in rivers and waterfalls, wild camping, creative writing and trying activities like trapeze or sailing (both of which I enjoyed this year). As for those events that do generally involve drinking… well they feel slightly harder as I say but I’m still doing them — whether that’s parties, gigs, quizzes, festivals or Sunday roasts with pals. I’ve found non-alcoholic beverages a nice comfort to hold in my hands and feel included (yep, that still feels very important to me). And this month it feels waaaay easier as other mates are doing dry Jan, so the temptation feels reduced. And as for dating sober, well I think it might actually be better, not worse. More conscious and connected.

So, am I quitting for ever?

A lot of friends have asked me how long I intend to quit for. And I’ve been replying that I think it’s for ever, with increasing conviction as the weeks and months go on. I’m not being so strict as to refuse a cream sauce that has a splash of wine in, as that's not a trigger for me personally, but outside of that then I'm abstaining from booze, with no end date.

I’ve noticed an increase in my desire for sweet things, and have been known to order a pot of tea and a sticky toffee pudding at the weekly pub quiz, instead of a pint. But I think this is a short-term craving for a treat which will settle in time. My reward I suppose, for getting as far as I have.

Writing this today is feeling like an interesting dialogue with myself and I’m grateful to you for reading. As stated at the start, I don’t claim to have any knowledge or expertise around quitting alcohol or any substance, but I’m glad to share my current lived experience with you and, if you find it interesting, do comment/share. Be kind to yourself (and to me please!) I’m aware this theme can feel very sensitive to people and I’m sharing all of this with lots of love.