Taking the Edge Off: My Alcohol-Free Journey

One year and three months ago, I made the decision to give up alcohol forever, a decision that I had contemplated for a long time. I am not an addict, and I recognize my privilege in being able to cut it out of my life the way I did. However, I do have an unhealthy relationship with alcohol, and I was on a rocky path barreling toward addiction if I did not do something about my habits.

Several years ago, I took a break from alcohol, recognizing that I did not like the way it made me feel, or the choices I made after a few beverages. Prior to making that decision, I lived a social life full of alcohol-connected experiences and adventures. On top of that, I was in an all-around toxic relationship with a partner who also consumed alcohol often. It's important to note that my alcohol habits were not their fault—I make my own choices and I alone am responsible for my actions. But I continued to put myself in environments that enabled my poor habits, and that were centered around many shots, and frequent binge drinking. I also drank to avoid or cope with that toxic relationship, which fueled an already harmful pattern of turning to booze during difficult times.

Several months after that relationship ended, I decided to take a break from alcohol. I felt amazing when I did this. I slept better. I ate better. My mental health improved. My anxiety became more manageable. My perspective on life began to change, and I learned new coping mechanisms and sought more supportive friendships. After a few months, I started seeing someone who didn’t drink all that much, and that relationship offered the additional encouragement I needed to stay away from alcohol in social spaces. I put myself in fewer alcohol-centered environments, and learned how to love an alcohol-free lifestyle.

About eight months after I took a break from alcohol, I decided that I felt so good that I might try to reintroduce it into my life again. I didn’t recognize at the time that my mentality around this was like saying I’m sick, and this medicine is making me feel better, so I guess I’ll stop taking it now. At first, I did well with the reintroduction to alcohol. I had a beer here and there, and still leaned into nonalcoholic options. But over the months I began to see familiar patterns arise.

I always had a reason to include booze in social gatherings—I reached a milestone in school or work. I had a horrible day. I am traveling and want to try this new brewery. It’s my friend’s birthday. It’s a holiday. It’s the weekend! There was always something. Additionally, one or two drinks often turned into several. My partner at the time was incredibly kind about it at first, using phrases like “it makes me a little anxious when you drink,” to subtly drop the hint that things were changing. Sometimes she would choose not to drink when everyone else was. Although she didn’t drink much anyway, I think she was intentional at times in order to set the example or to emphasize that it wasn’t really necessary at this time or at that gathering. I didn’t see what she was doing then, or I guess I opted not to, and I chose alcohol anyway.

I turn to it as a coping mechanism, a trend that I began when I was grieving the death of my mother. I didn’t notice this on my own. When I was in graduate school, I wrote a memoir about my mom’s illness. When I defended my final manuscript, a professor I highly respect mentioned that she noticed alcohol was a recurring theme in my book, and she wondered about it. I dismissed this, laughed it off, and didn’t consider it again for several years.

I have an anxiety disorder and struggle with paranoia. When my anxiety is high, I’ll have a beverage to “take the edge off.” That’s what I say, and what I genuinely think is happening in the moment. But here’s the thing about anxiety—she and alcohol are little buddies. That first and second drink will lull her a bit, yes. And you’ll think, ah, this is what I came here for—that warm, cozy relaxion. And you won’t want that feeling to stop. So, you’ll keep drinking in order to maintain that “feel good” energy. But that isn’t how alcohol works. After the third or so beverage, anxiety is coming back, and she’s packing some serious heat. Also, her alter ego is hangxiety—ever heard of her? She likes to swoop in the next morning and completely destroy your soul by reminding you of every idiotic thing you said, did, or can’t quite remember (and she will replay it in your head over and over until you want to disappear). "Taking the edge off" is bullshit. The real way for me to take the edge off is to get rid of the shit that weighs me down and hinders me from becoming the best version of myself.

When I drink too much alcohol, I get exceedingly emotional. I sob about things that happened years ago. I think everyone is trying to attack me. I get defensive and condescending. I get loud. I get mean. To put it plainly: alcohol is the devil, and it brings out the worst in me.

Some folks think I might be (or should be) embarrassed about eliminating alcohol from my life. I am not, and you can not shame me for it. The shame I felt when I drank alcohol was plenty for me to realize our culture has this so twisted. Alcohol is normalized. Binge drinking has become acceptable under the guise of “social drinking,” and those of us who don’t partake for whatever reason are outliers.

I also do not feel like a failure because of this journey. I know that I had to do it twice to learn my lesson about my relationship with alcohol. Now, I have no question about it anymore—alcohol does not belong in my life. I, unfortunately, had to lose a lot through the process of understanding this about myself. I do have regrets, but this journey is not one of them.

I have also learned that there are many people on a similar journey. Some reach out for support, some guide me in various ways. We each have our own story and our own why, but I love knowing I am not alone.

For friends who may be experiencing something similar, my greatest advice is to pay attention to your environment. If you are with enablers, or if you spend a lot of time in spaces or with people who don’t get it, please consider new choices. This was paramount for me both times. That includes your partner, and if your partner calls you out on your behavior, pay attention. They may see what you don’t yet. Surround yourself with friends who support your decisions. The friends I spend my time with are the most supportive people I could ask for in my life. When we all go out and about, they look for places that have nonalcoholic options without me even bringing up the topic. They bring NAs to football Sunday parties so I’m not left out. One time while we were surprising a friend with a birthday bash, one of them even went out of their way to get nonalcoholic bubbly along with the regular champagne so that the nondrinkers at the party would feel included. This. This is support.

Also, you do not owe anyone an explanation. You do not have to be an over sharer like me, or tell anyone what is in your glass, or explain why you are not drinking alcohol. The decision to not drink is yours, and if you need a buddy, I’m your gal. I am 15 months alcohol free, and I have never felt better about where I'll go from here.

AE