“I needed to lose you to love me…”
213 days ago I woke up with one of those soul crushing hangovers. My girlfriend and I had gone out to celebrate my birthday in Palm Springs, and we spent the night beebopping around having fun drinks and dancing our hearts out at the gay bars (PSA gay bars are the BEST place to have creep free dancing!)
Nothing “bad” happened, no huge dramatic scene, horrific event or trouble with the law… but man oh man, I woke up with a horrible hang over, and most of all, overwhelming feelings anxiety and shame.
These feelings are not new to me, and as someone who deals with and takes medication for anxiety, I have done quite a bit of work to mitigate these feelings.
But then I would drink and all that work would go out the window… Even if it was two glasses of wine, I would wake at 2 in the morning and let my mind wander to every dark road I could possibly find.
Now, this was far from the first time that I over did it and woke up with a fuzzy or NO recollection of the night before. And although I could moderate and even abstain for long stretches of time, eventually I’d have a night where I’d over do it, and then the self loathing would sink in.
Although most people think there is a rock bottom moment for most people who decide to quit drinking, for me, my decision to stop was more due to “a death by a thousand cuts situation.”
No I wasn’t drinking everyday, or in the morning, nor had I had any run-ins with the law due to my overdrinking. My marriage wasn’t falling apart and I wasn’t unfit to be a mother.
But had I strained relationships, embarrassed myself and experienced extreme self loathing due to my drinking? ABSOLUTELY.
Had there been times where I found it hard to stop after two drinks? ABSOLUTELY.
Did I use alcohol to deal with stress or decrease my social anxiety? ABSOLUTELY.
But that day in March, I decided I’d had enough. Drinking Allie was so far from the woman I wanted to be for my family, friends and for myself.
There is a lot of shame, stigma and assumption associated with sobriety. We see struggling with alcohol as a character flaw instead of a sadly incredibly common consequence of drinking an addictive substance in a society obsessed with alcohol (I’m looking at you toxic mommy wine culture!)
I don’t label myself as an alcoholic, nor do I have an everyday struggle with a desire to drink. And for that I know I am fortunate.
I don’t attend meetings, and so rarely do I miss alcohol. I am in early days of my sobriety, and know that as an ever evolving person (and someone who is been humbled enough to know never to say never) I don’t see myself prescribing to the the traditional construct of “Hi I am Allie and I’m and alcoholic” , and #oodat (lone day at a time), especially since I’ve NEVER felt more free from the pull of alcohol. I don’t question the decision.
I consider myself lucky that I stopped drinking before I hit a rock bottom.
My overwhelming gratitude towards my family, my mental and physical health, and my lot in life is my guiding light in my alcohol free journey.
In the past 6 months, I have listened to dozens of books and podcasts by women who are on an alcohol free journey. I have been painfully awkward at events where I didn’t yet have the words or confidence to share why I wasn’t drinking. Although my partner isn’t 100% AF, I have the support of my partner and I can clearly see how our relationship (and our finances) have benefitted from this life change.
I have learned SO much about myself, and I have enjoyed some great mocktails.
And although I thought that going alcohol free meant that I was going to lose friendships, invitations to celebrations, and my ability to dance with abandon…turns out when I quit alcohol I had a lot more to gain than to lose.
I actually gained:
⁃ Self respect
⁃ Peace
⁃ Trust in myself
⁃ Clear skin
⁃ Better sleep
⁃ Deep connections with other women on a AF journey
⁃ Patience with my children
⁃ Energy
⁃ Creativity
⁃ Compassion for myself and others
⁃ Continued support from my rockstar friends
I struggled a lot with whether I should share my story publicly, because the fear or shame and judgment weigh heavy on me.
I worried about whether it was too early in my journey to share, what people would (and will) think, but I’ve decided to share this because I hope that my story might land with someone out there who feels alone.
If you ever want to talk, I’m here for you. 🫶🏼