It's January 1st

What if you tried?

In the early days of my sobriety, I wrote constantly. I poured my pain onto the page, agonizing over whether I was doing any of it right. I felt so alone back then, and gosh, I wish there had been a Sober-Substack for me to turn to.

Recently, I moved my website to a different platform and haven’t yet figured out how to move those old blog posts over. It makes me a little sad knowing those early posts are just floating around in cyberspace without a real home. Thankfully, I can still access them. Maybe one day I’ll figure it out.

Earlier today, I went back and reread some of the posts I wrote around the holidays during my first couple of years of sobriety. It reminded me how raw and difficult the early days can be, which is something that’s easy to forget once you have time and distance from it.

So, if you’re one of those people who told yourself you’d address your little drinking ‘situation’ once the holidays were over (which is exactly what I tried to do for many years, and failed) then this is for you. If you’re considering Dry January, or quietly wondering whether now might finally be the time to make a lifestyle change, I wanted to share one of those posts here. I wrote it in December of 2021, when everything still felt fragile and new.

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How to Get or Stay Sober

December 2021

I’ve been asked these questions quite a bit recently, so I felt it was important to address them. How did I start the stop? How did I stick to my plan? How was it possible to do something that felt so impossible during the holidays, which is such a challenging time of year?

Here are some of the things I did during my first sober holiday season. Maybe you’ll find a few of them helpful if you’re struggling to get started or to stay sober.

First, it wasn’t easy to say out loud, but I felt a deep desire and urge within me. Something I could no longer deny. I woke Evan up early one morning right after Thanksgiving 2020 and asked him to help me stop drinking. The feeling had been building for a long time, and once I finally had the courage to say the words out loud, to myself and to my husband, I knew in my heart that it was my time. It was a huge relief to take that first tiny step.

Admitting it to myself and saying it out loud to someone else was key. My husband was that person. I also called a few close friends that day, some who drank and some who were sober. All people I trusted, who loved me and could hold me accountable. I needed to make it real, and putting it out into the universe made it feel that way.

Evan and I then poured out all of the alcohol in the house. It was deeply symbolic for me. Watching the liquid spill out of each bottle, one by one, was challenging but also cathartic. Seeing the empty bottles lined up on the counter afterward felt like a physical declaration.

I joined sober support groups and immediately began attending Zoom meetings. I made them a priority. Those meetings were crucial in helping me connect with like-minded people. Around the same time, I created this blog and my sober Instagram account. I journaled and wrote almost every day, trying to process all of my brand-new feelings.

I listened to meetings on walks with my earbuds in, or I’d turn on quit-lit audiobooks and sobriety podcasts. I pounded the pavement daily, walking for miles, lost in my own thoughts.

The hardest part of the day was around 5:00 p.m.. That was when the wine witch would start chanting. I had always poured my first glass around 4:30 or 5:00 while cooking dinner, and Christmas/winter added an extra layer of temptation. Cozy nights by the fire made wine feel almost required.

That was the time of day I had to work the hardest to break the cycle. I leaned heavily on podcasts and new rituals. Sometimes I’d rush through dinner prep and take the dog for an evening walk. Other nights, I’d hop on the Peloton for a 5:00 p.m. ride just to interrupt the pattern. I did yoga upstairs, far away from happy hour in the kitchen. I took baths. Anything to get my mind off drinking.

One helpful reminder for me was to think about what one glass actually meant. I learned to play the tape forward. One glass always turned into two. Then three. My nights never ended the way I imagined, and I needed to remember that. I wasn’t happy at the end of the night. I just chased the buzz until I went to bed and woke up feeling awful the next day.

The early days were hard. Extremely hard. I cried a lot. I felt sorry for myself. I hated the world. I was resentful of everyone and everything, constantly thinking, How is this my life? But I stayed with the feelings. I sat in the sadness and didn’t drink.

After a few weeks, things began to shift. I started sleeping well. The headaches eased. My mood slowly improved. I thought about alcohol less and less. One day, I woke up and realized I had accumulated a lot of sober days, and I was actually feeling good. I took it one day at a time. One sober day after another.

Now, over a year later, the changes in me are visible, emotionally, physically, and mentally. I am light-years from where I was that Christmas. If you’re just beginning your journey, I can’t wait for all that lies ahead of you.

If you’re sober, how are you feeling these days? How is this holiday season treating you? Please comment below or shoot me an email. You are not alone.

Photo by Maddi Bazzocco on Unsplash