Alcohol

I stopped drinking alcohol on November 10th 2020. I had my first and only panic attack after an evening out and took a few weeks off the pop to think about what might have caused me to throw a wobbly. I stopped seeing the appeal of getting drunk, and haven’t wanted to drink since then.

I didn’t feel any sort of way about it at the time, but in hindsight: I’d stopped enjoying going out drinking with my friends, I didn’t like the way I behaved while drunk anymore, and I dread the thought of behaving that way for the rest of my life.

I felt like shit for the first 6 months. Alcohol was the only coping mechanism I had ever known for stress, the only social lubricant I had to make being in groups of people tolerable, and the only thing I had in common with most of my friends. It played a big part in pretty much everything I looked forward to.

It’s huge part of the culture where I grew up and it fuels all social engagements. Weekends are for drinking and holidays are for drinking even more. It’s hard to adjust to not doing it, especially in social settings. I had fuck all to enjoy for a while and a creeping suspicion that I might never be happy or relaxed ever again.

I felt noticably better after 18 months. The cloud over me lifted, and the growing pressure that comes from not having a weekend blowout to look forward to just eased off. Slowly at first, then all at once.

The first thing I noticed is that consuming alcohol must contribute enormously to emotional instability for a long time afterwards; weeks, if not months of relative instability. The second is that I don’t enjoy most of the things I did previously, which leads to me to think that alcohol was the only motivating factor in me doing them.