Looking in the wrong place for 20 years
What alcohol promised, I finally found elsewhere...
"I need a drink"
"I've earned this glass of wine"
"It helps me sleep"
"I know they're drinking together tonight, so if I drink as well, it will be like I'm with them"
I'm sure I probably said or thought these a thousand times during my drinking days. As well as countless other stories that told me why it was not only ok, but actually necessary for me to drink a bottle of wine, or a number of cans of cider.
There weren't many situations in which I couldn't justify drinking. If not during, then I'd find a reason to make it ok to drink afterwards.
In 2005, I discovered to my surprise that I actually preferred going to see live bands sober, and started offering to be the designated driver often. I needed the restriction of NOT being able to drink to keep me sober, even though I knew I preferred it. It opened up my world and gave me clear memories of the music I loved so much.
But my dirty little secret was that every time I got home, there would be a few cans of cider, or a bottle of wine, waiting in the kitchen for me. I told myself I 'needed' them to help me wind down after the buzz of the gig, that there was no way I could go to sleep unless I did. But at no point until I stopped drinking did I ever explore whether or not that was true. It wasn't a reason. It was an excuse I made to justify my actions.
As I look back at my 20 years of drinking, and the past 9 years of sobriety, one thing always strikes me as being so very clear. All the things I ever thought I needed alcohol for, all the stories I told myself about why it was helping me, I now have in sobriety.
Things like.....
Sleep
I'd struggled with sleep since childhood, when I would lie in bed each and every night, waiting in terror for the murderer I just knew was waiting for my parents to go to bed so they could come in and do away with us all.
As I grew up I discovered a far more sinister evil that lay in wait for me at bedtime. My own thoughts. I could torment myself into madness on a nightly basis, dissecting every mistake I'd ever made, imagining perfect and terrible futures, and scripting conversations with people that would never happen. So discovering that if I drank enough, I could pass out without any of that noise in my head made it very easy to convince myself that drinking was helping me to sleep.
And yet.....
Every morning I would wake up in need of another full night's sleep. I was always tired, and would fuel my days with sugar and caffeine.
Which did nothing to reduce the anxiety I felt, did nothing to make for an easy night's sleep.
So I lived in a cycle of insomnia, and behaviour that drained my energy and fuelled the insomnia.
Discovering ways to relax at bedtime, so I could fall asleep more easily was a game changer. Being able to wake up when I wanted to, and feel ready for the day was a completely new experience. Not to mention the delightful feeling of not having to piece together the previous evening, and beating myself up for so many things I wished I hadn't done.
I'm in the midst of menopausal hormone chaos, and I have ADHD, so sleep is something I still struggle with quite a lot. But I know that the sleep I do get actually nourishes my body and mind, even when it's not enough.
Relaxation
Having a drink always seemed to be a way to relax. The way it seems to smoothe out tension and brush the stresses of the day away was always very compelling.
But I was always anxious, always stressed. The amount I drank, I should have been REALLY relaxed. So why wasn't I?
Well, it turns out that alcohol doesn't really relax your body and mind at all. It makes you think it does, while behind the scenes, it's actually increasing the stress hormones in your body, literally making you more stressed! How's that for a con?
Learning ways to really relax my mind and body was the first step to my sobriety. Once I was able to relax without alcohol there was less need for it. And the relaxation I get now is, like my sleep, real, not fake tricks being played on my nervous system.
Confidence
I was never very confident. Not even a little bit. I found it really hard to talk to people I didn't know, and almost impossible to talk to men I fancied. I was besieged by self doubt, and often masqueraded my insecurity with angry arrogance.
Alcohol helped me with all that. Or so it seemed.
Lubricated with a few pints in me, I could talk to people. I could strike up conversations with strangers, and I could approach men quite easily.
But much of the time, the men I talked to drunk weren't men I wanted to talk to when I was sober. And the conversations I had with strangers. Well, if I could remember the things I said, I'd often be shaking my head the next day, wondering 'What the fuck was I telling them that for?'
Now, after 9 sober years, I have real confidence. I know my strengths. I like myself. I know my worth. I can strike up conversations with strangers, and I can talk to men I am attracted to. I still sometime find myself wondering 'What the fuck was I telling them that for?', but my ADHD friends have helped me to see that this is totally normal, and I can just laugh at myself.
Spending time with friends
I remember one night, suggesting to one of my close friends that we opted not to drink together, that we just enjoyed chatting to each other instead.
That 45 minutes before we realised we didn't actually know how to do that felt like the longest 15 hours of my life. It was so hard to know how to be with a good friend.
That should have worried me. It did worry me, the suggestion had been born out of a glimpse into a problem in my life. But it didn't stop me drinking. It simply reinforced the idea that I needed to drink to be able to enjoy time with my friends.
So when I stopped drinking, I worried that I wouldn't be able to do it anymore.
And while it's true that some friendships did fall by the wayside, the ones that really matter have evolved. Former drinking buddies are now walking partners, gig buddies, cinema pals, coffee, lunch and tea dates, and so much more.
And I have made many new friends, people who have never known what it is like to get drunk with me. People whose company I adore, and have never felt any discomfort at being with over a cup of tea rather than a bottle of wine.
Having fun
This is one of the biggest hurdles that we have to get over in our alcohol obsessed society. Alcohol is the preferred partner to almost all our social occasions. It's how we celebrate life's key moments, our achievements, and enjoy the things we love. I used to think that drinking and live music went hand in hand, and couldn't imagine a gig without it. Until I experienced it, and realised how much better it was.
All the things I used to enjoy doing with a drink, I still enjoy now. I love going to festivals, and enjoy them so much more now I get to experience them with a clear head. I dance better, remember it all so much clearly, and can really, truly experience the moment as it is, rather than through the blurry haze of drunkenness.
I don't need alcohol to shake off my inhibitions, I've got ADHD for that. But I am aware of what I am doing, and in sobriety, I have never made a decision in the night that I regret in the morning. I look back at all the things I did when I was drinking that I thought were fun, and know how much I regretted the next day. That's not fun in my eyes. That was self destruction.
I will admit that when I was early in sobriety, I used to miss the blurry, hazy reckless feelings of being drunk. But the more I looked back at the life I was living then, the more I see how none of it was truly fun. It was a costume I wore that was slowly suffocating me.
Sobriety has given me everything that alcohol pretended it would, and I will never stop being grateful that I was able to learn that!