This last week I have been presented with a number of challenges that I normally would have dealt with by downing multiple glasses of wine. I had to take a moment to myself today to realize how far I’ve come - to be proud of the fact that my mind does not automatically wander to alcohol when dealing with conflict. I even sat back and considered what might have happened if I had drank to drown out the noise that I didn’t want to hear: a disagreement with a friend could have turned into an irreparable blowout; my lethargy from my second dose of the Moderna vaccine could have been made catastrophically worse from a hangover; feelings of isolation and loneliness could have been amplified tenfold. It used to be so easy to pick up a bottle of wine in order to face my issues and anxieties. It was my go-to solution. But now I only see alcohol as the devil on my shoulder.
A friend recently asked me how I survived the first few days and weeks of sobriety. So whether you are trying to catch a quick break from alcohol’s pitfalls or you are seriously considering taking a step back, these are a few things I found incredibly helpful in staying sober during that first big stretch.
1. Find a fellow non-drinker
I have been sober for seven months. That’s a statement I never dreamt I’d make. It’s a statement I wouldn’t be able to make if the only people around me were those who drink heavily or make drinking a hobby. Let’s face it, drinking was my number one hobby. I was really good at it. When I stopped, I found that a large number of my friends were actually pushed to drink more because of me. My roommate, who I had previously forced bottles of wine on in the beginning of quarantine, now has unopened bottles accumulating on our bar cart. There are bottles of wine that have been there for months. That would not have been possible with a drunk me in the house. When I first decided to properly stop drinking seven months ago, I had a few friends who were doing a “dry month” alongside me, so I was able to eat meals and spend time with people I usually drank excessively with. Together, we were able to push through perceived awkward silences that I normally would have filled with sips of booze. Slowly but surely the itch to drink faded and I let go of the “fun version” of myself being the drunk version of myself. People that were drunk or not still seemed to think I was amazing.
2. Move your body
I run. I walk. When I’m feeling particularly happy, I do an interpretive dance in my kitchen. My body was unhappy when I was pumping gallons of fermented grape juice down my gullet. I needed to make up for lost time. The first few weeks of sobriety, I ran like a madwoman.
Running has saved me. The first few months that I stopped drinking, I was running twenty miles a week. I woke up at 7AM and ran five miles. My body would be so exhausted that I would wind up in bed by 9PM. This kept me from even considering having one drink - I knew it would mess with this new high I was getting from pounding pavement. Waking up early became my greatest joy. I went to sleep looking forward to that first cup of coffee. I never knew I would be the type of person to have a morning ritual, but here I am. Wake up - Listen to the news - Run - Stretch with a smoothie - Shower and get ready for the day. I would be finished with all of that by 9:30AM.
I have relaxed a little, but I still try to run at least 15 miles a week. Not everyone likes running, and I don’t blame you. But walk or dance. Enjoy time with yourself and in your body. Appreciate it more.
3. Be kind to yourself
I fucked up a lot when I drank. I did a lot of damage. I hurt so many people but I was mostly hurting myself. I had to stop drinking because I had this intense sinking feeling that I was slowly killing myself. I was constantly anxious, tired, and irritable. I only worked out when I wasn’t hungover, which wasn’t often. I planned my days around drinking, not leaving much room for actual living. My body felt sick and battered. I felt that it was begging me to stop poisoning myself. When I finally listened and sobered up, I wrote down every wrong-doing and shame I could think of in my journal. In Refuge Recovery (Alcoholics Anonymous without God), they label this as the Truth Inventory. I felt incredibly calm and relieved after I detailed every hidden suffering that I had caused myself and others due to my drinking. Was it simply relief in telling the truth or was it because I was writing all of that while looking out at the Pacific Ocean while the sun was setting? No way to be sure, but it felt like a giant weight had been lifted. There it all was on one page (or three). Every wrongdoing. I don’t use this Truth Inventory as proof of me being a total shithead. I use it as a reminder that I am not a sum of my mistakes. That I can learn from them. That I can recognize the suffering I have caused and move forward in a generous and hopeful way towards others and myself.