Sober. I hate that word. It sounds so sad. Before I stopped drinking, I basically replaced the word “sober” with “boring.” I didn’t think anyone was sober because they wanted to be. Sobriety was something you had to become because you had a problem. My stance on this has completely changed based on my experience and education on the topic, but I think most people still feel that way, and that’s okay.
I have always been good at balancing my different worlds and harvesting different versions of myself based on my current needs. Stretching and morphing myself into the “Allyson” needed at that moment. Not often saying “no” and ensuring I was pleasing whoever I needed to avoid confrontation. The earliest example of this in my life was in high school. In my junior year, I started dating a guy a couple of years older than me who had just graduated. Since he was older than me, he wasn’t interested in hanging out with me and my friends or going to high school parties. His job required him to wake up early, so his idea of a fun Friday night was going to dinner at Rock-Ola Café, watching a movie at his house, then bringing me home and going home to bed.
My idea of a fun Friday night was drinking half-gallon handles of Jose Cuervo straight from the bottle, playing circle of death, beer bonging Milwaukee’s Bests, squeezing seven people in a Honda Civic to hot box in the Wendy’s parking lot, and making out with my girlfriends to impress the boys in the room. Rather than using logic and breaking up with my boyfriend because we “had different interests,” I proceeded to spend every Friday night having dinner with him at Rock-Ola Café, watching a movie at his house, getting him to drop me off at a friend’s house, and then partying my ass off and making questionable decisions until the wee hours of the morning. Why choose when I can have both? I was having my cake and eating it too! Once I discovered I could succeed at being the responsible, compliant, well-mannered, and well-dressed girlfriend AND the loud, sexy, fun, daring life of the party, I was SET FOR LIFE. The boyfriend was eventually gone, but the partying stayed, and my ability to be everything everyone wanted was THRIVING.
I kept this up for another 15 years.
I excelled at work and continued to get pay increases, promotions, and rave reviews. I was the best girlfriend turned fiancée turned wife turned baby mama and continued to keep my partner happy and excited to come home to me every night. I was a great friend and stayed close to my high school and college friends, always being a shoulder to cry on, giving great advice, attending our gatherings, and bringing the party. I was a great daughter, granddaughter, niece, and cousin, always showing up and participating in the family stuff (again, bringing the party with me). Once I became a mom, I was the best at that too, always filling our time with fun activities, attending all the sports, communicating with teachers and doctors, reading, snuggling, and making my boys feel like the most influential people in the world.
Being all these versions of myself to everyone important in my life was exhausting. Still, I always, always, ALWAYS found time and prioritized being the life of the party in addition to everything else. For a long time, I prided myself on that. I could stay up until 3 a.m. getting blackout drunk at Local Bar and then take my kids to Sesame Street Live the next day. Hooray! If there was an award for being the most responsible raging party girl, that was me – what an accomplishment!
It was all so fun, until it wasn’t.
I don’t know exactly when it stopped being fun, but it did. I kept telling myself I was having fun, and maybe I was in the moment, but it didn’t feel so fun the following day when I had to drag myself out of bed for my meeting or when my kid was commenting on my dried-up mascara eyes from the night before. At some point, I went from beautifully balancing it all to pretending I was okay 80% of the time when I wasn’t.
Chugging Gatorade and stuffing my face with McDonald’s before work to make it through that 9 a.m. meeting. I gave myself pep talks in the car before walking into the NICU after drinking wine the night before and being scared I would have a panic attack while holding my newborn baby, who needed help fighting for his life, and asking my parents to keep the boys for just a couple more hours on Sunday morning after they had them for a sleepover so we could squeeze in a few more mimosas at brunch before picking them up. None of that was fun. I finally had to look myself in the mirror and do the math. How much was alcohol bringing to my life, and how much was alcohol taking from my life? The answer was clear: alcohol was taking WAY WAY WAY more from me than it was giving. I was getting a few hours of “fun” per week, which I often didn’t remember anyway, and getting back endless amounts of shame, anxiety, guilt, pain, and declining physical health.
Making the decision you want to stop drinking and actually not drinking are two very different things.
I started with a few 30-day non-drinking challenges – Dry January, Sober October, you know the deal. I even went 87 days once. Every time I took a break, I convinced myself I changed, and it would be different this time. I had better control. Eventually, once I started drinking again, I would find myself in the same situation I was in before – bloated, regretful, feeling like hot garbage, and vowing to change again. I also tried setting ALL the rules. I would only drink beer, no wine. No shots on a night out. Only drink one night a week and only four on a night out. I drank a glass of water between every alcoholic beverage and forced myself to DD so I couldn’t drink too much.
Guess what? None of it worked.
Every situation was a different excuse. We’re celebrating. I haven’t seen this friend in a long time, or I had a particularly terrible week at work or even the best week… I “deserved it.” There is precisely one thing that I did that changed everything. I decided to quit for an entire year. I thought about this for a long time before I even said it out loud. Once I said it out loud, I might have to follow through with it. The first time I brought it up to Korey (my husband), we were out having drinks (naturally). He was WELL aware of my struggles, and he had voiced some interest in cutting back as well. When I mentioned the year, he wasn’t super keen on the idea initially, but after a month or so of deliberating, we decided we would do it together. We decided to start after Thanksgiving of that year and then proceeded to drink our faces off until that date.
I had my last drink on November 27, 2021
Honestly, I don’t think I will ever want to drink again. Not that I can’t ever drink again – I don’t think I will ever WANT to drink again. There’s a big difference between those words. I stopped drinking because I felt like alcohol took more from me than it gave. My hangovers and post-drinking anxiety were becoming worse. I couldn’t lose weight because my progress during the week was immediately reversed after one night of heavy drinking. I felt self-conscious about my wine breath when I tucked my kids into bed at night.
I noticed I started prioritizing the drinking part over the actual purpose of activities (do we have enough Trulys in the cooler to get through the 3-year-old’s birthday party we’re going to? Do we have enough champagne to make it through our boozy Christmas morning? Can my parents come on vacation with us to take the kids back to the room for us when we want to keep partying?) I felt that something wasn’t right and life could be better. I long ignored that feeling and hoped it would go away. All our friends and most of our family were living the same lifestyle that we were. We were no different than anyone else. I hadn’t gotten a DUI, lost a job, or hit rock bottom. This was normal. There was no way that we ALL had it wrong.
Except that we did. We all had it wrong. We don’t have to be tied down by alcohol. Without it, we can live a vast, exciting, adventurous, fun life. I 100% feel I have gained a super-power by giving up alcohol, and I want to encourage other people to do the same. If I had read this before I stopped drinking, I’d say, “yeah, right,” and roll my eyes, but it’s true. The only way to truly experience the freedom of giving up alcohol is by doing it.
Giving it up
Giving up for 30 or 90 days is a great start, but I recommend giving yourself a year alcohol-free for the whole experience. I know it’s a big commitment and seems scary, but if you keep trying to find 30 or 90-day pockets to put your life on hold while you white-knuckle some booze-free time, you’re never getting the whole experience. If you commit to a year, you’re guaranteeing to live your life alcohol-free rather than agreeing to put your life on hold while pretending to be alcohol-free. A year guarantees a sober Valentine’s Day, Easter, Memorial Day, 4th of July, Labor Day, Halloween, Thanksgiving, Christmas, and New Year. A year guarantees sober birthdays, weddings, vacations, date nights, and parties. If you got nervous about being sober for any of the events I just listed, then chances are that alcohol plays a more significant role in your life than you are willing to admit.
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