When I decided to stop drinking alcohol, I had no clear vision of what lay ahead, but I knew in my bones that I had to do it.
As of today, I’ve been alcohol-free for exactly 4 ½ years. 53 months and 3 ½ weeks. 1645 days. 39,840 hours. To a large extent I got here by plodding; I took a deep breath, put one foot in front of the other, and just started walking. Most of the time, for what felt like a pretty long time, it wasn’t particularly fun, and I didn’t know or understand yet what the outcome would be, or what it would feel like.
I just knew that I had to keep going, even on days when to do so felt like a huge burden, one I wasn’t always sure I was strong enough to bear.
In several recent posts in my online community, some of my friends have described their current efforts to remain alcohol-free as “plodding.” It’s not a very positive or uplifting word; in my mind it creates images of drudgery, heaviness, and boredom.
The Merriam-Webster dictionary defines the verb plod as:
1–to walk heavily or slowly
2–to work or study with effort
3–to progress or develop slowly
Some synonyms for plod include lumber, slog, tramp, and trudge. Yikes! Who would move this way if they had the choice? Not me, even though I confess that I’m something of a plodder by nature. Once I make up my mind that I’m going to start something scary, unpleasant, or just plain tedious, I usually dig in and try to get on with it. But I have to believe that the slog will pay off, which can be tough without a map, or a clear view of the conditions further along the road.
Every adult I know has done hard things. They’ve had to plod in order to reach a goal. When I went back to university as an older student (I was all of 21 at the time, but I felt ancient), I plodded my way through some of the course work in order to achieve the degree I wanted. I learned plenty along the way, often useful, sometimes even fun, but occasionally it felt as if I was trudging through thick mud with no end in sight.
It helped to have a cheering section. When I came to BOOM, I felt as if the people whose journeys began before mine stood right beside me, or just up ahead where I could see them, encouraging me and waving me forward, sometimes putting out a hand to pull me a few feet further in the direction I wanted to go. Their stories and support motivated me to keep trudging, even when my muscles ached and my lizard brain whispered that I was getting nowhere.
Then one day, it was as if the sun broke through. My muscles were stronger. My spirit felt lighter. I stood up a little straighter and moved a little faster. A lot more clear-headed and a little more confident, I noticed that the road seemed smoother and that I’d started to find moments of joy in the journey for its own sake.
No matter how I may have dressed up my dependence on alcohol, the bottom line was that I used it (and a benzo), starting in my late 40’s, to medicate my sometimes crippling anxiety. As hard as I thought I was working to cope (using therapy, yoga, an off-and-on mindfulness practice, long walks in nature, blah blah blah), at the end of a tough day I went for the quickest fix I could find: several glasses of wine after work every day, followed by the little pill that helped me sleep…until it didn’t.
Everyone I know struggles with difficult feelings, but running from them doesn’t fix anything. They always win that race.
One of the main reasons I drank alcohol was to medicate a lifelong struggle with mental health issues that included two kinds of anxiety and mild (but sometimes intrusive) OCD. I know now that drinking made the conditions worse, but in the early days and weeks after I stopped, my poor brain didn’t know what hit it. I’m not exaggerating when I say that my emotions were so out of control for awhile that I felt like I might be losing my mind.
Fortunately, because I was sticking close to BOOM and reading everything I could find in order to understand what was happening to me, I got through those hard weeks and came out more even-tempered and steady than I’d felt in years. My husband described me as calmer and more present, and his feedback was really helpful. I felt less irritable, less combative, and less defensive, and the changes showed up in the ways that I interacted with the people I love most.
That initial place of peace was welcome, but as my alcohol-free weeks, months, and years went by, I began to feel some big, scary feelings I’d worked overtime to push down for most of my life. Anger and resentment stepped aside to make space for old fears and deep grief. I cried a lot and tried to write about how I felt. I got my primary health provider to put me back on an antidepressant that had worked pretty well in the past for my worse bouts of anxiety.
Eventually I found my way back to long-term therapy with someone I trusted (and who accepted my health insurance). We spent most of a year using the Internal Family Systems model (IFS, also called parts therapy), which I’d first read about in the blog of Marc Lewis, the author of The Biology of Desire. I weaned myself off the medication because after a few months I didn’t really need it anymore.
Thanks to my therapist and a regular mindfulness practice, I’m doing pretty well these days. I still struggle with some sleep issues, but they’re not as hard to manage as they used to be.
It’s comforting to know that here on BOOM I’m not alone, and I’ve filled a toolbox with healthy strategies that help with symptom flare-ups–the same symptoms that used to make me run for the wine bottle. Now I go for a walk, work in the garden, ride my bike, do a short lovingkindness meditation, take a long bath, or just sit by myself and focus on my breathing.
I no longer wake up at 3 am with a dry mouth and heart palpitations, or GERD. I haven’t had a hangover in nearly four years. Most of the time I cope fairly well with life’s unavoidable challenges, disappointments, and difficulties. I’ll never be “cured” of my anxiety issues, but I’m much more skilled at accepting myself as I am and working to live the best life I can.
Giving up alcohol didn’t solve all my problems, or make my anxiety disappear. I didn’t expect it to. But removing booze from my life was like opening that crack that lets the light come in. And I much prefer the light of awareness to the darkness of confusion, denial, and the misery of addiction.
I hope you’ll join me on this road. If you look, you’ll see me next to you, cheering you on, one day at a time. One foot in the other.
READ MORE FROM THIS AUTHOR ON HER JOURNEY TO FOUR YEARS ALCOHOL-FREE :
Breathe and Keep Moving – Gaining Momentum in Early Sobriety
How I Escaped the Trap of Gray Area Drinking
Perspective from Two Years Alcohol–Free
Recovering is Uncovering-Be Patient With the Process
WHO ARE WE?
Online Community Support to Stop Drinking – BOOM!
If you’re “sober curious” …If you are drinking too much too often and want to stop or take a break… Talk to Us.
We are an independent, anonymous and private community who share resources, support and talk it through every day. It helps to have a community behind you in a world where alcohol is the only addictive drug that people will question you for NOT using
Leave a Reply