Since the legal age of 21, alcohol has been a part of my life. In fact, many of my friendships in college and thereafter were formed solely around our common thread in alcohol consumption. And even though it wasn’t something I needed to get by or what I necessarily turned to when I was sad or stressed, I have always felt a lingering sensation of shame around drinking. If I didn’t need it, why did I even want it? This question never seemed too far off my radar.
Much like many of us found ourselves in 2020, I was too often turning to spiked seltzers for hydration and a glass of wine no longer felt celebratory. It wasn’t that I thought I had a problem saying no to alcohol, it was more that it had lost its luster and felt more routine than I knew it should. Determined to better understand this feeling, I was curious to see how taking some time off from drinking would open my eyes to my relationship with libations.
One day, a girlfriend of mine and I were chatting about life and our daily stressors and she shared with me something she had come across in a recent podcast. She mentioned that she had been considering participating in what the podcast called the “100 Day Sober Challenge” and was looking forward to seeing what kinds of change occurred in her life as a result. Intrigued, and never one to turn down a good challenge, I agreed to jump on board with her. And so, on September 16, our journey through the sticky mess of a world 2020 had turned into began without a drop of alcohol to be consumed.
I’ll admit, I had my reservations about sticking it out for the full duration. Thick in the middle of a global health crisis that had undoubtedly surged my anxiety mixed with an election year that felt like the weight of the world (and humanity) was riding on, it seemed like the absolute worst time to make an abrupt change in my life. Little did I know how immensely that choice would impact me.
Full Speed Ahead
The first two weeks sans alcohol, I felt like superwoman. I had an unwavering sense of empowerment and felt as sharp as I had felt in years. I wasn’t hitting the afternoon wall of fatigue, was finding it easier to have patience when doing lessons with my four-year-old, and maintained a stable mood from sunup to sundown. When the sun went down, however, I found myself restless. Many individuals have shared that cutting alcohol has offered them better, more restful sleep. For me, this was not the case. I found myself tossing and turning until well after midnight, sometimes wide awake until two in the morning. I invested in several nighttime supplements, including magnesium and handful of homeopathic minerals, I powered my laptop and cellphone down an hour before bedtime, I drank chamomile tea and dimmed the lights in every room. It wasn’t until I began incorporating guided sleep meditation into my nightly routine that I was able to fall asleep at a semi-normal time. Though it was bothersome to be alert far later in the evening, surprisingly I didn’t feel sleep-deprived in the morning and was able to rise at a fairly regular time to begin my day as usual.
A Million Emotions an Hour
Though my increase in patience and energy was something I half-expected, I was astonished to discover how emotionally sensitive I am when given permission to feel. Of my 100 days of sobriety, I was brought to tears at least 50 of them. Hearing stories of loved ones lost to COVID, seeing and feeling the divisiveness of a nation who can’t agree on anything from politics to public health devastated the already delicate balance of my emotions. I felt angry, I felt terrified, I experienced sheer joy on such a level I truly didn’t know existed, but most importantly, I simple FELT. And because of this, I began to grow into a state of authenticity that I’ve been shuttering for nearly a decade. I found the courage to vocally disagree, I grew confident enough to set boundaries and to let go of friends who no longer have my best interests. Alcohol, I realized, kept me comfortable, but it also kept me stuck.
Coping with a Tumultuous Year
It’s not uncommon for anyone to reach for a cold one after a challenging day, or as a response to unsettling news, and 2020 proved no different. A recent study of 1,540 adults ages 30 to 80 published in the journal JAMA Network Open found that respondents reported drinking 14% more during the pandemic. In particular, women in the US reported a 41% increase in episodes of heavy drinking (four or more drinks within two hours) in the spring of 2020 as compared with a year earlier. Substance abuse and addiction has increased at alarming rates in the past 12 months due to income loss, social isolation, and a general sense of doom we have all learned to live with like an unruly houseguest. Although none of this is likely surprisingly, it’s a reminder that we are all experiencing something we never planned for, and that we are consuming to keep from being consumed.
My social experiment with cutting out alcohol taught me a lot about the person I’m working to become and what she stands for, but it also opened a door to an empathic version of me who genuinely feels for the souls who are growing more and more lost as days go on. Although my challenge has ended, the lessons I learned about establishing a healthier relationship with alcohol will continue to be something I practice and share with others who may find it useful to take some time away from whatever it may be that is holding them back.
If you or someone you know is struggling with substance abuse, help is available. Below are resources to connect you with counselors and treatment information:
SAMHSA National Helpline – 1-800-662-4357
American Addiction Centers – 866-926-4043
Comments are closed