6 April 2012
I picked a hell of a day to quit drinking. Almost exactly two months ago, on February 5, was Superbowl Sunday. I’m not a football fan, but it’s always been an excuse to gather friends together and drink and socialize. This year I happened to have a couple of old friends in town visiting, friends I only get to see a couple of times a year. We were at a fourth friend’s house, someone who we all grew up together with. He had his family over as well. We barbequed, we ate, we drank. Well, I didn’t drink. I was the only one not drinking.
I thought it was going to be a challenge, to be around so many people drinking, to be around three very close friends with whom I grew up drinking (it would have been a rare occasion when we were all together in our 20s without alcohol being involved). But it wasn’t hard at all. Even after everyone left and it was just us four, and they continued drinking, and I drank iced tea.
The decision to stop came the night before. The four of us were out together at a local bar, playing some pool. I’d only had a few drinks, but I realized that I didn’t care for the feeling it gave me. It wasn’t the first time I noticed it. My drinking had already tapered off in a pretty big way up to that point, due in part to me getting older, but mostly due to my non-drinking girlfriend. It’s not that I slowed down or stopped for her (and she certainly didn’t ask me to), but when you spend a lot of time with someone who doesn’t drink, and a lot of time being active, it’s natural to not.
I had an internal conversation with myself that night. I asked myself why I was drinking. I asked myself how it was serving me at this point in my life. The truth was that it wasn’t serving me in any way. In fact, I realized that it’s been a hinderance to me. It’s kept me from learning more about myself; it’s kept me further away from being my true self.
I would never consider myself an alcoholic by any means. Yes, I binge drank for most of my 20s, getting wasted on the weekends and partying with my friends, a pretty “normal” upbringing in our culture. It was always a barometer of “coolness.” It seemed the more one drank, the more hungover one was, the more “crazy” the drunk story was, the cooler one was. Alcohol pretty much defined — was the basis of — my social interactions for the majority of my adult life. It was the binding ingredient for pretty much all of my young adulthood friendships.
I couldn’t fathom being in most social situations (mostly at night, but many during the day, too) without drinking. And going out and dancing without alcohol? Forget it. I usually wouldn’t step foot on the dancefloor without at least four beers in me. While I wouldn’t consider myself an alcoholic because I always had control over my drinking — I knew when to stop and for the most part I had control over myself when drunk — it was definitely a crutch for me. I just wasn’t very comfortable in social situations without at least a slight buzz. I don’t know. Maybe that is a form of alcoholism.
Since the end of my marriage and since I’ve lived in Nelson, I’ve done a lot of “soul searching.” I’ve done a lot of “work” on myself; I’ve even begun to learn how to love myself. I’m growing comfortable in my own skin and relishing human connection, conversations with real eye contact, without the lubrication of a beer. I can go out now to a show and dance like a maniac without a sip of alcohol.
And it feels good. It feels good to come home at midnight actually feeling energized and hydrated (swap beers for water and that will happen) and clear-headed. And wake up the next morning without any ill-effects; in fact, wake up feeling better because I can remember everything in vivid detail from the night before.
I am enjoying this path that I’m on, becoming more comfortable with myself, caring less what others think of me; being sober is an important part of the process for me.
It also raises a lot of questions for me.
Like why I felt defensive whenever I’d hear someone say they didn’t drink. I don’t know why, but being around people who didn’t drink at all used to make me uncomfortable. Like I was being judged, even though there was no evidence whatsoever of that being true. I can see the same reaction now in some people when I say I don’t drink. Their demeanor changes; they become quiet. Sometimes they’ll justify their drinking. Keep in mind I never question anyone’s decision to drink. It’s just those words, “I don’t drink,” that seem to cause some sort of defensive mechanism to kick in.
When I would hear those words from others, it would initiate me asking myself why I drank. Then I would justify it, maybe even become a little self-righteous about it. Maybe I’d accuse them of being a prude or “not fun.” Being sensitive to this phenomenon, I usually just say something like, “no thanks, I’m not drinking tonight” when offered a drink nowadays. If that’s what it takes to keep everyone on a comfortable level, that’s fine for me.
It also makes me question why drinking has become the norm, for the most part celebrated. Non-drinkers are the outcasts in our culture. Or at least the culture in which I grew up, which I think I can safely say is / was the same for most people in many countries around the world (where alcohol is legal, that is).
Since I stopped drinking I’ve become more sensitive to the conversations around me about alcohol. Just how many stories include — or are dominated by — alcohol. “I’m so hungover.” “I was so wasted.” “I can’t believe how many drinks I had.” How for many (including me in my younger days), it’s something to brag about. Something to connect to other people about.
I’m not judging anyone who drinks. How can I? I’ve only been sober for two months. I’m not even saying I will never have another drink in my life. But it’s certainly interesting to view life on this side of the coin. 
[Photo credit: aftab.]
{ 11 comments… read them below or add one }
Great post. You raise some very insightful questions and answers. I don’t think I will come to a similar point in my life until maybe I begin to have children of my own. As of now my wife and I enjoying going out, having a few drinks and socializing. I will admit that my style of drinking has changed from drinking just to drink to a more exploratory flavor examination process. I even write a weekly post where I examine different drinks trying to understand the various complexities, foood pairings, cooking, mixing, etc. Which is what I believe many other cultures outside of the US do, because drinking isn’t this taboo that you must abstain from until you are 21. This has been said to be the cause of an American binge drinking culture.
Everyone has their own path along the social influences and norms of drinking, but most find themself crossing that path. Those of you who deviate force those of us who don’t to examine ourselves and our reasoning of why we choose to drink, which is often not a typical question we ask ourself especially after one becomes the legal age.
Great post and thanks for sharing.
I didn’t have a drink until my 21st birthday, and couldn’t really justify my decision to anyone. I just felt left out, socially.
Having quit drinking at different points to give my body a break, do a cleanse, or when my liver enzymes were elevated because of an infection, I can relate to almost everything you say. It’s kinda crazy how normal it is to drink, from the college freshman just out from under their parent’s roof to the church-crowd that includes drinks with their after-mass lunch. As long as it is “controlled”, alcohol is accepted in almost every circle accept for those in AA (and it’s such a thin line between “controlled” and “uncontrolled”, and the good or bad label placed on people because of it. It’s all drinking alcohol, no?). Sometimes I’ve thought about how hard it must be to be a recovering alcoholic in our society (and really, many others) because it’s so deeply embedded and celebrated in our every day existence.
When you say, “I just wasn’t very comfortable in social situations without at least a slight buzz. I don’t know. Maybe that is a form of alcoholism”, I think that is actually overwhelmingly true for many people. A LOT of us have social anxiety, particularly those who lean toward introvert. Alcohol is the most socially accepted way to deal with social anxiety. And I do think it hinders us from looking at why being social makes us anxious and other ways to deal with it.
I’m about to go on a cleansing sabbatical for a couple of weeks, and as usual, it makes me nervous. I totally admit I don’t like to go out at night if I’m not drinking – I’m actually not a night person so I’m tired, don’t have a lot to say, and generally feel uncomfortable being in a situation where everyone is drinking and I’m not. I’m totally fine with not drinking if I stay at home, or go to a movie, etc., but I often feel like I isolate to some extent when I’m on a “break”. And that’s hard too, because I start to feel disconnected from others.
I’m proud of this balance you are finding with it. Do you think it is easier to not drink since your girlfriend doesn’t? I actually have found it’s easier when at least one person who is close to me isn’t drinking when I’m not. Somehow it eases the situation. Not sure if that’s the case for you, but just a thought.
Would love to read a follow-up on this in a few months!
Christine, I know what you mean by this: “I often feel like I isolate to some extent when I’m on a “break”. And that’s hard too, because I start to feel disconnected from others.”
As my drinking slowed and finally stopped, I definitely noticed a change in my social activities…but that has been fine for me, because those situations just aren’t serving me right now. At this point in my life I’m not enjoying things like house parties…but would prefer to have more intimate gatherings, connect more with less people, instead of superficial connections with many. I find in these situations, even if there are a few having a couple drinks, alcohol isn’t the focus, so the non-drinking thing isn’t an issue.
And yes, of course, my girlfriend not drinking has a big impact on my habits as I mentioned. I didn’t decrease or stop because of her, but it seems to have just been a natural thing…and then I realized how much more I prefer being sober and how much it’s teaching me about myself.
Dude, good on you. I’m really glad to hear from a person of conviction, which is surprisingly rare in terms of travel blogging—I feel that there’s a saturation of the market in terms of writing about wild parties in Thailand and hooking up in a bathroom in Spain (ahem), when it’s such a shallow understanding of what travel is. This post not only goes against the grain (which I like), but it’s a perfect reinforcement of what you stated to do through this blog: to (1) not limit your options and (2) emphasize the “inner voyage.”
Love it, dude. Keep up the good work. If you and I are ever in the same vicinity, I’ll raise my drink to you…with tea, of course!
Thanks Zak. I definitely don’t consider myself a travel blogger these days since my range of topics has widened so much. I like to just write about navigating life. Certainly don’t want to pigeonhole myself! And yeah, I hear you on the hooking up in a bathroom in Spain. I actually edited that one and changed it a lot…I wasn’t a big fan of it and found parts offensive (which I cut)…but I think it turned out ok
That was a pretty good post. I agree personally with pretty much all your thoughts here. I do drink occasionally..but rarely get drunk. Mostly because i feel super sick at night..i think my kidney or liver or something is damaged.. But I do enjoy having 1 or 2 drinks every now and then – be it at home during a movie or at a restaraunt. Its great that you feel so much better physically and emotionally due to this decision. I just question why you had to quit entirely. Why not limit yourself to a couple of drinks per week. For example..you go out to a restaurant and the salmon or the steak certainly does taste better with a nice wine. Or at home while watching a late movie on a friday night..that mojito or rum & coke is a really nice way to relax. Is it because you can’t stop at 1 or 2 and you figure that if you’re completely sober that’s the only way?
Good question Paul. Since I’ve written this I’ve allowed myself to have a drink if/when I want…that said, it’s been super rare that that’s happened (less than a handful in the last 8 months). The reason I cut if off entirely isn’t that I couldn’t control my drinking, but more as a test to myself. Even one or two beers could be enough to “loosen” me up in a social situation. I just didn’t want that crutch at all, to teach me how to be comfortable without it at all. I agree…perhaps a glass of wine would be nice with a steak, or a cold beer on a patio with a friend on a hot summer day. I will allow myself that, but I first want to make sure that I’m not using alcohol as that crutch. It’s been a process (and of course continues to be one) but it’s been very interesting a) learning more about myself and b) realizing how much prevalent and accepted (and expected) alcohol is in our culture. When you cut yourself off from it you become very sensitive to it and realize, holy shit, alcohol is (or becomes) the center of conversation in so many things.
Fair enough, Carlo! You’re in control, and that’s great. And its good that you will allow yourself a drink every now and then. Otherwise it might be too much mentally for you to handle. So cheers to you
Yep. It doesn’t seem constructive to deny myself if I really want one. Alcohol isn’t “bad” in itself…it’s the way it’s used and viewed within our culture that I see as being the issue. Thanks for chiming in.
It’ll be three years for me this Thanksgiving, Carlo. As Zak said, Good on ya, and good on me too; if drinking “works” for you, go for it; if there’s a question in your head, look into it; it’s pretty much about consciousness for me.
I just got off of five days on the Rogue River in Oregon, with forty-plus-year friends. All of them drank, as we always had. I often feel, and did on this trip, that (at various times, those times not clockwork, nor do they happen every time) I just didn’t “belong” . . . that feeling comes and goes (and it’s fine with me, part of my own Path). I don’t have cravings, for me (and it – as alcoholism is – different for each of us.) it’s about being “straight” and in that Place, while others are “somewhere else.”
It was ten years for me since I first acknowledged myself as an alcoholic and the day I did something about it. I don’t whip myself for waiting, or ever question my own decision . . . but behind that door of alcohol is whole ‘nother world . . . that’s where I live now.
Peace to you on your journey, Carlo
Scott (aka Darmabum)