The Last Glass
I was travelling back from Sardinia and had a mediocre red wine at the airport. I put the glass down and thought, “That’s it, I’m done.” Since then, it’s been six years, no alcohol. At the time, I didn’t tell anyone. There was no big lead into the day; I stopped in the moment.
I haven’t wanted a drink since. I can smell my wife’s glass of red wine and give her an amateur opinion on whether it’s good. But without any need to taste it.
Was I an alcoholic? Was that why I stopped? My father was a chronic alcoholic, and that had a massive effect on my childhood and youth. Other members of the broader family have also wrestled with the impact of booze. The equal and opposite occurred for some of my family, and they have shied away from drinking.
Consuming A Depressant
I drank a lot for many years and was undoubtedly alcohol-dependent for periods of my life. I realise that the effect of drinking blunted the edges of my chronic anxiety and social awkwardness. The beer buzz was a decent shield for me. The drift into being drunk was a great hidey-hole from my reality.
What didn’t click with me for a long time was the fact that alcohol is a depressant. And I have been depressed for long periods of my life. It is a destructive circle of being depressed, drinking and feeling some relief for a short period but waking up feeling even worse. Finding myself in this loop for longer than I would like to consider shows the grip that addictive substances can exert.
Early Disappointments
Six years, no alcohol served me some early disappointments. I expected weight to drop off me, but it didn’t. I guess the body adjusts and finds calories from other sources. My ice cream habit goes almost as hard as my drinking habit. But the only downside is the calories. A second downer was having to explain in a slightly embarrassed fashion why I wasn’t drinking any longer. I’m not sure how that goes in other cultures, but in Britain, it’s easy to feel the weight of judgement when quietly stating you don’t want a beer.
Six years and no alcohol didn’t see off my battles with anxiety and depression either. Indeed, some of the worst periods of my mental illness – it still feels tough to write ‘mental illness’ – happened after I gave up drinking. Yet I know I did the right thing by stopping. I have had therapy, I see a psychiatrist, I am on medication, I meditate and journal, and I keep fit. And I don’t drink. All of those together have more than likely kept me together.
The Data Says Don’t Do It
Medical data has come out increasingly against the consumption of alcohol, too. The daily newspapers love to trumpet how moderate daily consumption of alcohol is not harmful and, indeed, can be beneficial. Yet data suggests that zero alcohol is the safest approach. Any amount of alcohol increases the risk of cancer and cardiovascular disease, and poor brain health.
This isn’t me being a smug bugger by the way. Instead, I make a deal with myself to show I’m not on an entirely fruitless path. I don’t miss the foggy feeling of too much red wine and beer. I do feel that my mental health would have been worse had I continued. Adding another positive score to my card in terms of reducing the risk of cancer as a freebie does help. Not that I’m competitive or anything.
Six Years, No Alcohol – What Now?
I chose my path and saw no benefit to going back. I’m not falling for the “Go on, one drink won’t do you any harm” argument as the science says it can harm. I’m more interested in pursuing my broad efforts to keep my mental health on an upward trajectory.
This is not meant to come off as a self-congratulatory blog post. I don’t feel a sense of achievement or pride. Instead I feel that stopping with the booze was an act of self-preservation. I can pull out a tedious number of studies to illustrate why zero alcohol is a good move. The day I said, “No more” was absent any drama or sounding of trumpets, it was an important day for my health. Even then, I encountered some significant setbacks, but it could have been much worse had I continued.
Six years, no alcohol will be twelve years, no alcohol in due course, that I am sure of.