One year.
I cannot even believe that I have made it a whole year. Actually that isn’t true. I can 100 percent believe it. Now.
If you had told me one year ago that I would be able to not drink for a whole year I would have laughed in your face and poured another shot.
I knew that I was going to try for 30 days. I had committed to starting the Annie Grace Alcohol Experiment at that point and was going to give it all I had (which admittedly, I didn’t think was much). For 30 days. My whole purpose was to dry out so that my anxiety would take a hiatus, thus making our trip to Maine in October to pick up my mother’s ashes that much easier. And by some miracle I pulled it off.
Once the 30 days were up I honestly didn’t know what I wanted to do going forward but I knew that I felt really good physically and my anxiety was waaaaaaayyyy down so I decided to just see how I felt on the trip.
However, even while we were in Maine I was struggling every day with the thought: “I made it the thirty days and I’m on vacation so there is nothing saying that I can’t have a drink.”
I perused the booze aisle every time we went to the supermarket to buy more junk food (OMG I ate soooooooooooooooo much candy and ice cream in those early days!!) but something in me told me to hold off, at least until we got home from the trip.
I want to say that it probably wasn’t until I had about three months or so under my belt that I really stopped bargaining with myself that I *could* drink if I wanted to because I had honored my commitment to the experiment and it was long over.
I’m not saying that I don’t still entertain the thought of drinking. At all. I just feel much stronger in my resolve not to. I play the tape forward, as they say to the next morning and realize that drinking would be a horrible Idea.
I have to say that I do not miss hangovers at all. I know that sounds like a no brainer but when I actually sit down and think of all the mornings I popped awake at two in the morning with a racing heart and a panicked brain, hating myself for what I had done the night before it is frightening! Not to mention all the money I spent. Not just on booze, but on all those hangover pills and potions that were supposed to help make my mornings better (I’m sure that they did help some, but towards the end, nothing was going to make me hangover free). I’d estimate that I spent upwards of $80.00 dollars a month just on those hangover preventatives alone! That is absolutely ridiculous to me now, but I thought nothing of it at the time. In fact I would panic if I accidently let myself run out.
I’m literally shaking my head right now just reading that back. I was such a slave to all things alcohol. I would rather spend a fortune on promises that I would feel better after drinking than do the one thing that was guaranteed to make sure I didn’t have a hangover and not drink!
I do miss the idea of drinking though. I romanticize the idea of being able to go out with my girlfriends and have one or two drinks like they do. I feel the FOMO that I can’t and that is really kind of stupid because in reality, I never even drank when I was out with them before! I was too afraid of my secret being found out so I would just stick to soda anyway! I often have to remind myself that I’m not missing out on anything because I never did that in the first place!
What I do miss is drinking in Vegas. At least the idea of it. I miss having a cocktail in my hand while playing the slots. But I need to remind myself that I also missed having a cigarette in my hand while playing the slots when I quit smoking and I got over that eventually.
Also, I love that I’m not a slave to my buzz in Vegas any longer. I used to get so mad when we would do anything other than drink in the room or drink in a casino in Vegas. I would do the things but my mind was always back in the room pouring another drink and not fully engaging in whatever show or excursion that we were doing.
This last trip (my first sober one) there was an instance where an acquaintance was in town and we had been unable to meet up with him during the day. My husband had written off seeing him at all and we actually had a mini argument when I suggested seeing him later. I couldn’t understand why he was upset that I would suggest that and it was because he knew the old drunk me that would get up in the room and start to drink herself into a stupor and then cancel the plans. He was so used to that, he couldn’t fathom that we would actually keep the date to go out if it didn’t happen that day while we were out and about.
Once we got back from meeting up with him and having a great time, he actually said: “I’m just not used to you actually wanting to leave the hotel room once we get up here. I just assume that you won’t want to go anywhere.” He didn’t flat out say because of drinking, but it was implied. It made me very sad how happy he was when he realized that might no longer be the case now. Sad because for the last 15 years he had to give up on so many things because of my drinking (I say 15 instead of 20 because he also drank those first five years we were together).
Other than my brain tricking me into thinking I was having more fun than I actually did, I really don’t miss it much at all. When I do, I remember how I always felt the next day. The shame, the shakes, the panic and the anxiety of wondering what I had done the night before that I might have to apologize for and if I would be able to explain it away without blaming booze.
I still haven’t told very many people. The thing about being a closeted drinker is that most people never actually saw me drink anyway so they don’t think much of me not drinking if they think of it at all. And of course the whole covid thing really kept me from going out socially the last two years so I guess that helped a bit. But honestly it hasn’t come up very much. My new co-workers know that I don’t drink but because they met me after I quit, there was really no reason to question why, they just accepted that I chose not to drink.
I am flirting with the idea of telling a select few. One is a very close friend of mine that has been in recovery from alcohol since before I met her 12 years ago. I am torn though. I want to tell her because I know of all people, she will be able to relate, but how do I tell her that I have basically lied to her for the last 12 years. Not a lot, mostly by omission, but I have.
I have a fear that she will be mad at me, even though I know she wouldn’t tell me to my face, and that it will stew within her and hurt our friendship. Part of me also wonders if she suspects. I’ve talked to her via phone and chat whilst drunk before but I tried not to because…you know, she knows what drunk sounds like from personal experience.
I think I kept it from her once I quit because I wasn’t sure if I was going to backslide and the last thing I wanted was for her to know and then know that I relapsed.
Now that I feel much more committed I really would like to have someone to share my accomplishments and frustrations with that truly understands. Someone other than my husband. Especially my one year achievement. That just feels like such a huge milestone for a girl that couldn’t abstain longer than three weeks in 20 years of drinking.
I don’t know. We have been talking about having lunch soon, I guess that is why it’s on my mind right now. Do I tell her and risk her being mad?
Who knows?
What I DO know is that I have gone 1 full year without a drink and I am very proud of myself.