Reflections on 2000 Days Alcohol Free
As I sit here reflecting on 2000 days alcohol free, I’m experiencing both a level of absolute marvel combined with a level of complete nonchalance I just wasn’t expecting. Rewind 5.5 years and Early Sober Sarah would only have dared to dream of reaching this incredible milestone, at a time where all thoughts, energy and emotion were tied up in simply not drinking that day. I thought I’d be popping balloons, eating cake and treating it like all of life’s big milestones.
But in all honesty, I don’t feel the huge momentous celebration bubbling up in me like I expected.
It just feels normal.
Like any other day.
Because I no longer celebrate my sobriety like I used to. It’s just who I am now. I used to drink. And now I don’t. No big deal.
But as a friend said to me just recently “it’s not even about not drinking for you. You’re still great company, bringing the sparkle to any event you attend (thank you J), you’re still YOU but you’re just the better version. Like version 2.0. Removing alcohol has allowed you to become the woman you were always meant to be. So of course, it feels normal. You’re finally your most authentic self.”
I smiled, bottling up that comment to take home and dissect later that evening. Was she right? And I realized she was. I do feel that now, at the age of 48, I’m finally showing up as the most authentic version of me that I’ve ever been. I set boundaries, I say No to what doesn’t serve me, I live by my non negotiables that support my mental and emotional health, I know my values and what’s most important to me and I strive to live in alignment with those values.
I’m not perfect, oh no. I’m definitely not perfect.
But I’m so far from where I was. I’ve come a long, long way.
I remember in July 2018 sitting on my bed in a villa in the South of France, pissed as a fart having just come off another 100 day sober stint and breaking it with a 5 day rose bender in a villa in Antibes with my besties. It was 3am and I was crying. Not like a subtle tear slipping out and slowly rolling down the side of my face crying.
Oh no. This was proper ugly crying. With snot and gulps and the occasional hiccup. And all I could wail to my patient friend Kath was “I just want more. I’ve got so much more to give in my life but I don’t know how to find it.”
But the truth was, I actually DID know how to find it.
It just wasn’t the answer that I wanted.
Hence the ugly crying and wailing. I knew that the ‘more’ I was craving, came from ditching the booze for good. And this scared me. I’d had a glimpse of the woman I was without my evening night cap – and I was quite in love with her. She was positive and confident, motivated and curious, creative and energized. She was happy. And perhaps for the first time, I accepted in my bones, the booze was going to have to go. But I didn’t want it to because I was so scared of who I would be if I never had a drink again. My entire identity was interlinked with my relationship with alcohol.
So, to take the booze away completely left me feeling utterly naked. Which was leading to this confusing mental tug of war – I’d had a glimpse of the woman I was without booze and I bloody loved her. But alcohol had been part of my life for 29 years and every social event (bar pregnancies) had been fuelled with alcohol since my teenage years so how the hell was I going to do my entire life without alcohol?
This period of cognitive dissonance is one of the most confusing and energy sucking periods we ever go through. Part of us wants that sober life but the other part is like “Oh no, that’s not going to happen, this is my comfort zone doing the thing I’ve always done, I can’t possibly stop.”
After that south of France trip I carried on drinking for another 7 months – I knew in my bones that next time I stopped it would be for good. So let’s just say those 7 months were not my proudest and I drank with gusto, like the way you eat on a Sunday night before the Monday diet starts. I had 7 months like that. But by April 2019 I was ready for the biggest and probably hardest break up of my life
Because it IS a break up.
I liken it to that ‘bad boy’ ex-boyfriend. We’ve all got one haven’t we?
The one you fell head over heels in love with in your 20’s, who gave you just enough great sex, love and attention to keep you coming back for more, but would never fully commit and so destroyed your soul, your confidence and your self belief along the way. You never knew if he’d call that night or not. You’d vow if he did that you wouldn’t answer. You PROMISED your girlfriends you’d deleted his number, but you’re secretly checking your phone every few minutes to see if he’s text.
And when he does and asks what you’re up to, you make your excuses to your friends and quickly leave to head straight to his bed and do all the things you promised you’d never do again. And the next morning, when he’s detached and distant and you’re suggesting breakfast and he’s saying he’s too busy, he’s going to the gym, he’ll ‘call you soon’ as you pick up your knickers and search frantically for any shreds of dignity and self esteem that you can find, you tell yourself THIS TIME.
THIS TIME he’s gone.
And it’s much the same with booze. But often we don’t give ourselves the time and attention, care and love we need. When we finally quit the ‘bad boy’ our friends are there picking up the pieces, assuring us he was never good enough, there’s someone better round the corner, he was never going to be The One.
But with a booze break up, no one’s doing that for us. The girls aren’t rallying around with pizzas and movies and checking in on us several times a day. We often have to go it alone, and yet for many of us, it’s the been the longest relationship of our lives. Doesn’t it deserve some of the attention and care we gave the end of the 6 month romance with Ned from accounts?
The break up with booze is harsh. Everywhere we turn we see adverts and films and TV shows flaunting it in our face, sending messages that we need it to enjoy ourselves, to live a full and happy life. I had been in this booze relationship for 29 years. I didn’t know how to do life on my own. But I had to learn.
The first 6 months are raw and emotional. Sobriety tears you open and there is nowhere to hide from yourself anymore. Every emotion and experience that you’ve ever shoved down, ignored and distracted from with booze comes screaming to the surface and it feels too much. It’s too much. You can’t imagine getting through another day, let alone a week, a month, a year. But you also remember the alternative – carrying on drinking wasn’t easy either.
Journaling helps as does therapy and connecting with others in the same situation. Hearing from others who’ve gone before you, gently encouraging you and telling you it won’t be like this forever, it will get easier. You sleep a lot, sometimes cry a lot, but you also laugh a lot and feel gratitude for the smallest of moments that you never used to notice.
It’s the biggest roller coaster that you just hadn’t prepared for or anticipated, You feel like hibernating and staying away from the world but you also don’t want to miss out on the catch ups and you put on a brave face saying ‘of COURSE I don’t mind if you drink’ while secretly watching others, shy and curious about their drinking habits and often realizing how little they drink compared to what you used to be like.
And slowly, gradually, you start to get glimpses of the future. Of you as a woman who doesn’t rely on alcohol.
She’s starting to grow in confidence and pride.
She’s trusting herself.
Her self talk is becoming softer and kinder.
She’s beginning to realise that what is most important in her life, it was there all along!
The morning sunrise walks, the giggles with the children on the trampoline, the friend who makes you laugh so much you wet yourself, the pride of getting into bed having notched up another day of sobriety, the secret smile after 8 hours delicious uninterrupted sleep and the clear head and energy of the day ahead. She’d just been missing it all in her quest for the next drink. But it had always been there, right under her nose, waiting for her to notice.
Sobriety takes us back to our most raw and vulnerable selves. And we begin to rebuild ourselves with new priorities, new focus and a brand new vision for the future. And day by day, month by month, year by year, the foundations grow taller and stronger and before we know it, we stand strong as the most grounded and stable version of ourselves that we have ever been.
And here, at 2000 days, I feel a deep sense of peace. Knowing I am exactly where I am meant to be, doing exactly what I am meant to be doing. And maybe I will just go and get that cake afterall.
Love,
Sarah xxx
P.S. Have you read my best selling book Beyond Booze, How to Create a Life You Love, Alcohol Free? Order it HERE