Some Thoughts After 90 Days of Sobriety
For some reason, it’s been difficult to collect my thoughts and sit down to write what I’m sure would have been a scientific report on the past 90 days of sobriety. I wanted to dissect my experience, listing the lessons I’ve learned, the books I have referenced, and the neuroscience that explains what happens to your brain and body after 3 months without alcohol — but instead I think I will get down to the real reason why you all are here reading this. If you’re like I was, you probably don’t care about all that analytical bullshit and would much rather know about how my life has changed and most importantly… whether or not it was all worth it.
My need to write about my sobriety is beginning to feel compulsory these days. Lately, if I go too long between writing, I begin to feel overwhelmed with the incoming thoughts that stack upon each other in an unorganized mess within the already cluttered general office of my brain. When I write, I am able to metaphorically sift through the chaos and systematically arrange my thoughts while simultaneously creating free space, because when I write about something I can set it free. Over the past 90 days, I’ve written more than I have in the past 9 years.
These 90 days of sobriety started the way any other stretch of sobriety starts — with a horrible hangover. I woke up on May 2nd safely in my own bed, in my own clothes, but trapped in a prison of alcohol induced anxiety. Before I opened my eyes that day, I quizzed myself on the details of the previous night.
How much did I drink?
Did I drunk call anyone?
Did I throw up?
How late did I go to bed?
I had taken this quiz so many times before, usually failing because over the past year or so I shamefully blacked out almost every time I drank — blacking out after only 2 or 3 drinks sometimes. On Saturday, May 2nd I failed the quiz again for the sixth weekend in a row.
With zero memory of how much I drank, who I spoke to, or when I went to bed, I turned to my bedside table and I gave a sigh of relief when I see my phone charging as per normal.
Maybe I wasn’t that drunk after all, I reasoned to myself (Reader, please do not gage your level of intoxication by my clearly unreliable drunkenness quiz).
I saw that it was 2 in the afternoon but I felt so dizzy as if I was being woken in the middle of the night. In fact, I think I was still a little drunk. I rolled over and shook with the fear of the inevitable and oncoming hanxiety until I fell asleep again until 6pm.
My last hangover was not particularly worse than any other hangover I’ve had. In fact, it pales in comparison to some of the other hangovers I’ve had.
When I think back to that first day, it’s not memorable. The only thing I can remember thinking was that I desperately wished that I was able to press the fast forward button and skip to 30 days sober and pick up from there. I realized that for a while now, I had been wishing away my precious life minutes. Walking through life with my eyes closed and my head hanging low. I had become a shell of a person, just trying to get through another hungover morning, another anxious work meeting, or another sleepless night.
I had made and broken so many promises to myself over the past three years, be it “I’ll journal every day for a month”, or “I’ll start my diet on Monday”, or “I’ll stop drinking for 30 days”. I never followed through with any intention or goal I set myself, especially regarding my drinking. The anxiety was getting so intense that I felt that even the outer shell of a person I had become was beginning to crack.
In the first month of sobriety, I was counting down the seconds to midnight every night so that I could mark another full sober day in my app. I couldn’t focus on work, I realized that if I wanted to quit drinking, I had to prioritize it over everything else.
And for the first 30 days, I did.
I listened to recovery podcasts all day and constantly scrolled through r/stopdrinking on reddit, reading all of the anonymous stories about other people’s successes or challenges in stopping drinking. I took two hour long walks outside every single day. Sometimes during these walks a thought would creep into my head telling me that I had done three weeks so I might as well go have a drink now, but then I would remind myself that I stopped drinking for a reason. I slept poorly and only between the hours of 5–10am most nights. I did a cooking challenge where I cooked 15 new recipes throughout the month. I started writing about my experience online, sharing my stories and little lessons I was learning along the way.
And I didn’t drink.
As lockdown restrictions eased up during my second and third month of sobriety, I began experiencing new challenges like going to hangout with friends without drinking or going to a restaurant without drinking. With more days under my belt, I felt better equipped to keep my resolve to not drink. It got significantly easier each time I refused a drink or ordered an alcohol free beer when out with friends. I started to gain confidence again and that shell of a person I had become was finally rebuilding and eventually, I started to feel like a real person again — only better. For the first time in a long time, my intentions to not drink and my actions of not drinking were aligned and to this day it feels amazing to be living this authentically.
Over the past 90 days I’ve been up, I’ve been down. I’ve drank alcohol free beers. I’ve reorganized and decluttered my closet. I’ve done my skincare routine and brushed my teeth every morning and night, because I don’t pass out at the kitchen table any more. I’ve gone for at least 5 long walks a week. I have read 4 books and listened to 3 audiobooks. I’ve eaten ice cream. Lots of ice cream. I’ve listened to hours of podcasts and gotten back into listening to music again. I’ve done some yoga. I’ve climbed mountains. I’ve meditated. I’ve taken baths. I went through a little online shopping addiction phase, but that’s for another post…
Life has gotten simpler and by that I mean, I don’t have to worry and stress about how much to drink or whether or not I should drink or what I did when I was drunk. I don’t cringe in fear when someone’s name pops up on my phone, because I’m horrified that I said something to them when I was drunk the other night. My sleep has gotten more regular, and I no longer have borderline panic attacks at 5am. I feel stronger and healthier in my body. Most importantly, I no longer wish minutes of my life away. I welcome them as they come and try to remain as present and in the moment as I possibly can be. Even if I’m watching the Real Housewives.
I’m still in the adjustment period of learning how to live an alcohol free life. There’s no way that I have all the answers after 90 days, but when I think back to everything I have done and all the things I have learned during this short period of time, I’m honestly so excited to find out what comes next, because so far it has only gotten better.
And if I haven’t answered your question yet, yes. It’s worth it.
