Breaking up with Booze
The first time I wrote “Don’t drink this weekend” in my Hustle & Play™ was back in 2018. I had been thinking about cutting back on drinking for a year or two prior and that was the first time I put it in writing. This was 21 years into my relationship with Booze, starting with Bud Lights on my BFF’s back porch at age 14.
It’s funny, I instinctively capitalized “Booze” because it really has taken on this persona in my life. Booze is what I turned to over the years to hype me up when I felt tired, kept me company when I felt lonely and assured me that I fit in when I felt like I didn’t. Booze made me feel funny, interesting and like I had great dance moves. I would talk to people for hours but for some reason the next day I couldn’t remember all that we talked about. I never considered that all these positive aspects booze seemed to offer may have all been a lie.
So what happened? Why, in 2018, did I start considering that this match made in heaven was headed for its demise? And… like many complicated relationships, it wasn’t a swift end. It took 4+ years to finally call it quits with this duplicitous partner.
I want to say that it was more dramatic than it actually was. That we had a knock down, drag out battle. And, in some ways, it was a battle but it was more of a slow burn. There was no DUI, no waking up on some nameless street, broke and dirty. I didn’t leave my kids for weekend long benders or hide bottles of wine around the house. I was what I’d call a “social” drinker. Sometimes I just liked to be social with myself too. My drinking was pretty average for an American female: about 6 drinks a week give or take. Some weeks would be more, some less depending on what was happening. Sure, a bottle of wine turned into two occasionally and I had a few too many every once in a while but I wasn’t like… an “alcoholic.” Right? Because that word “alcoholic” conjures a picture in our collective mind. It’s a label and it means that I’ve lost all control of my alcohol intake. But that’s not me. I can moderate when I want to. I can just have A beer, A glass of wine. I’m not out of control. I could quit whenever I wanted and it wouldn’t be too hard. So, then why didn’t I stop after that first time I wrote it down in 2018?
Turns out, just because you say you’re taking a break, life keeps going on and there seems to always be a reason to drink, especially in our alcohol drenched society. Booze is everywhere and it is SO sexy! Look at how much fun everyone is having in the commercials and advertisements! Those ads don’t show the pictures of me after a big night out: on the couch in a dark room, bloated, with a killer headache, eating boxed mac n cheese and slurping diet coke. They show young people with hydrated skin outside, enjoying themselves: laughing, talking, living carefree! Not to mention that I had been conditioning myself to participate in drinking culture for over 20 years. I had a TON of practice.
Look how much fun she is having drinking! Big alcohol makes drinking look sexy without any of the effects.
From 2018 to 2021 I was solidly “sober curious.” I tried repeatedly to cut back on my alcohol intake. I’d take a weekend here, a few weeks there. Despite all my good intentions not to drink, eventually a reason to drink would present itself. There was always a party, a company dinner, a BBQ with friends, a random Wednesday night. There was always a reason to drink. Booze was right there, by my side encouraging me with it’s false promises of confidence. The lover I couldn’t escape from. It wouldn’t leave me alone. Plus, everyone around me was drinking. I already felt awkward and was using alcohol to suppress that feeling, how could I possibly be at a party without it? But why did I feel more anxious and depressed after a big night out? Why was it taking more to feel that buzz? I know now that there is actual science behind what was happening.
Another big part of this time was moderation. I made up all these rules and agreements with myself: I will only drink on the weekends. I will only drink at special events. I will only have 3 beers all month on the weekends and 0 during the week, except if there is a birthday party or wedding then I can have 4 beers and 1 glass of wine. If the moon is full and there is a light Northwesternly breeze as the sun sets then I can have 2 beers as long as they were brewed at a micro brewery in New Mexico during the last lunar eclipse. Know what moderation is? Exhausting. The mental gymnastics it took to determine how many drinks I’d allow myself and when was so tiring! So moderation wasn’t really an option.
In January, 2021 my Dad passed away. If I did have a “rock bottom” I’d say this was it. From the time I was 1-4 years old, my dad was a single father. He was my anchor and the person I relied on. As it often happens in families when someone passes, the other cracks in our family became more exposed and in the span of a month I lost not only my dad but became estranged from 2 of my 3 brothers and my step mother as well. As someone who has always considered family above all (in good times and bad) this was excruciating. I receded pretty far into myself and for the first time in my life I thought, “I just want to drink and make it go away.” I was a shell of a person, drinking nearly every day, waking up with sweats, shaking and an elevated heart rate. I also had this weird hair that started growing from my chin. This was a signal of shifting hormones. That scared me. My social anxiety was at an all time high. I had truly lost any sense of who I was anymore.
My dad and I the year before he passed away. We always connected over both being beer drinkers.
I used to hate the word “recovery.” It signaled weakness to me. I think my definition of that word was something to do with victimization. In my mind, people in recovery were victims of something that had hurt them and they need to recover from this offense. Somewhere along the way, though, “recovery” became redefined for me. When you “recover” something, you find what was lost; you “recover” who you really are. Suddenly this word was helpful, as someone who felt hopelessly lost.
Slowly but surely, instead of focusing on not drinking, like I wrote in my book, I started asking myself more helpful questions:
“Who do I want to be?”
“Is alcohol contributing to who I want to be or hurting it?”
“When do I feel my best?”
“How was my sleep on nights that I didn’t drink versus those that I did?”
“When do I notice that it’s harder or easier to ‘person?’” (yes, I often use that word “person” as a verb.)
“When does the best version of me show up?”
“When do I feel most and least connected with other people?”
It became evident pretty quickly that my relationship with Booze was interfering with my relationship with myself. Something had to give.
This is when I started counting days using the I am sober app. It was both helpful and discouraging. I’d get to 5 days, 7 days 10 days (double digits! Wahoo!) and then BAM! it’s a beautiful day and our friends are hosting a BBQ. Hello Sierra Nevada, good bye 10 days of sobriety! Then it was back to day one. So discouraging.
As time went on, though, I used the information from my Hustle & Play Book and my sobriety app as data points. For example, instead of being surprised by the Block Party happening that weekend, it fell into my “push” category. I knew that I’d feel particularly anxious having to interact with people I don’t know that well so I stocked up on Athletic Brewing Co. Non Alcoholic Beer and gave myself permission to leave early if I wanted. I recorded my gratitude each day and noticed that things like “sun” and “running” and “quality time with my kids and husband” showed up far more during the times that I wasn’t drinking. I wanted more of this. These data points signified LIVING and I wanted to be fully ALIVE. So I continued to drink less and fill my time with the activities and people that made me feel alive. I was doing great! I was on a roll! I had 80+ days sober! Then I went on a snowboarding trip in March 2022 to Utah with some friends from college that I hadn’t seen in years.
I went on the trip intending to maintain my sobriety. I told them beforehand that I had over 80 days sober and I wasn’t planning to drink. Even though these were my drinking buddies back at Tufts, they were super supportive of my choice. I went to the airport and sipped on coffee while waiting on my flight. This was a win. Usually I would make a bee line to the bar and grab a huge IPA followed by a cocktail or two on the flight. When we got to the beautiful apartment in downtown Park City, overlooking the ski resort, there was three bottles of wine waiting for us. I hadn’t anticipated this. Cue the mental gymnastics, the excruciating questions of “Should I drink?” “Should I not drink?” “How much could it hurt to just have a glass of wine with old friends?” I deliberated over this both privately and with them for hours. They sympathized with me and expressed not wanting to be the reason that I gave up nearly 90 days of sobriety. I assured them that this would be a personal choice and they would not be held responsible for my actions. Good thing I didn’t hold them responsible because once I decided that I would go for it, it was a quick descent from not drinking to buying everyone multiple tequila shots at the bar later that night. 86 days of sobriety down the drain. Back to day one…..
I had learned from previous data points that once I broke a sober streak, there would be many micro streaks after that. After I returned from Utah I had streaks of 10, 8 and 6 days. Finally, I remembered one of the learnings from “Quit Like a Woman." by Holly Whitaker which I read back in October of 2021. This book changed my life. Part of why I drank in Utah was because I still identified as a drinker. I still gave myself that option. If I wanted to really give this up, I was going to have to identify as a non-drinker because alcohol is always going to be present. Was I ready for this?
“The harsh reality is that life always keeps going. Whether it’s sobriety, weight loss, love, pregnancy, health, your work, or something else, it’s a cruel fact: no matter what you have to face, life doesn’t stop and wait for you to get comfortable first. It just goes
The sun comes up. People throw parties and get promoted. Holidays show up just like they did the year before. Babies are born, and meals are made and the dishes pile up in the sink, again and again. And you? Either you change, or you don’t.
I can’t tell you what you should do, and I can’t give you a list of neatly ordered advice and promise it will help. What I can do is the only thing I know how to do, which is tell you what I did and promise you it did help me. Things did eventually feel better. My life today is nothing like my life back then”
On April 6, 2022 we had some friends over for dinner and there I was, on that rollercoaster again: in the backyard with my BFF just like when I was 14. I’d now been doing this for 25 years. I was ready to get off the ride. On April 7th, 2022 I woke up, marked “Day 1” in my sobriety app and quietly declared myself a non-drinker. It was a pact I made with myself. 365 days later, today, April 7th, 2023 I woke up again, hangover free and celebrating year one of sobriety. In the year since I’ve stopped drinking, I’ve coached my kids’ soccer team, threw a surprise 50th bday party for my husband, presented at an international conference, ran a marathon and started a business. I’m still working on becoming the person I want to be but I’m a hell of a lot closer than I was a year ago. This is only the beginning.
