Life Without Alcohol – A Blessing and a Curse

It’s Dry January, and many people are attempting to take a break from strolling the gardens of Dionysus. I’ve read some stories and I’ve been inspired to share my own, even if it may get lost in the dry sea of abstinence.

On January 1ˢᵗ, 2021, I made a promise to stop drinking alcohol for the whole year. Then, on January 1ˢᵗ, 2022, I renewed it, and this time it was for life.

Right now, my liver’s been free of alcohol for two full years — and I intend to keep it this way.

What’s my motivation?

This is the part where people usually lose interest in my journey (yeah, right from the start), and it’s because I didn’t have a drinking problem beforehand.

People want to hear stories of recovering alcoholics, so that they’ll have proof it’s possible to change — because they need inspiration. They don’t want to hear a story guided only by principles, philosophy and, maybe, hatred.

What really sparkled my will and drove me to make this choice was my hatred of alcohol. I hate using this word (ironically), but it’s true.

Everywhere I went in my life, this drug kept following me, hanging over my shoulders like a shadow. It’s not that it was affecting me, but it was affecting everybody else. I don’t think the generation from which you’re coming from matters in order to understand that there is no party without alcohol. “Fun” and “alcohol” have become codependent.

Throughout highschool and college, social gatherings have all had one key, central element around which they were revolving — you guessed it. Because I was refusing to indulge in it, I could only watch my friends and colleagues get slowly taken away from me, and being replaced by these lesser versions of themselves — inhibitionless, yes… but dumber.

I never wanted to use this poison because I wanted to genuinely change, to feel the world as I am, not as I could be — I’m an introvert, a textbook one at times, and you’d think alcohol could be of use to me; and you wouldn’t be wrong. I have used it sometimes when existing around people became too hard a task.

But what I mean when I say “not as I could be” is a reference to the fact that I believed being an introvert was a problem — I couldn’t see it as something that just is; normal and usual. I wanted to be the person that alcohol gives you the chance to be through my own endeavour; I wanted to be better.

And I still want to. I want to be able to enjoy parties as much as the past drinking me would, but I have to say: it’s harder.

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Alcohol is a tool — a means to an end. It’s something we use to escape reality. We intoxicate ourselves because we cannot tolerate it anymore. Depression among teens and young adults is becoming more prevalent; the pandemic, the war and the financial turmoil we find ourselves in only push us closer to this mishap.

It would be foolish to blame each other for our alcohol addiction; don’t get me wrong, everyone’s to blame — and that’s exactly why no one can be blamed. Let me explain.

When everyone around you does a thing, the thing’s going to become the norm — mainstream. We are heavly influenced by our entourage, be it good or bad. If you’re surrounded by alcoholics, chances are you’re one of them. If all your friends drink on Saturday night, chances are you’re doing the same. That’s why you can’t blame someone for their actions without considering their environment. And blaming each person in particular is not gonna cut it.

Furthermore, people who get out of bad habits alone are too statistically small to count.

The media and the government are at fault, too. Have you ever seen an ad for cigarettes? Me neither. But for alcohol? You only see people enjoying it on the most luxurious of islands. What about my friend Jimmy’s house, which looks and smells like hell after a party? Isn’t that a spot people would associate with more easily?

Alcohol is a necessary evil

Drugs are, mostly, banned. Cigarettes are banned. Whatever alters your reality and may put your and others’ life at risk is banned.

Then, how come alcohol is so widely available and accepted?

Because society needs it. Governments can’t ban every drug in the world, because people would riot. You will never witness a mass protest for alcohol prohibition.

We, humans, need coping mechanisms. Alcohol can give you an escape from your problems, can make you forget that you have them and put you in a docile state. No one wants to rule over a country whose people have no vice to turn to when things go south.

And it’s also a vicious cycle: you buy alcohol, you get sick, you buy more alcohol to cope with your health problems, you receive medication and now two big industries profit from you. Easy money.

It’s a method of control. Only you’re the one controlled.

Let’s be honest, though: we wouldn’t want this. We would not want a world with no alcohol. Not everyone is an alcoholic, and most of us only want(ed) to ease the pain inside and relax, once in a while. I would not wish a world without alcohol, because it would be a selfish idea — instead, I just wish people, in general, and those who lead us would be more competent and responsible in regards to this matter. It’s your health, at the end of the day. Mental, as well as physical. There is a point up until you can blame those around you for their vices, but it’s up to you to make a change for the better.

And do you know what to do when you can’t change those around you?

You change yourself.

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The reason why I quit it forever is because I wanted to send a message. I want people to know we can distance ourselves from what’s bad. I want to erase it from my identity permanently and become an example.

I spoke about hatred earlier. I believe what I hate is not alcohol per se; it’s just a liquid, nothing more — nobody forces it down your throat. What I hate is seeing people not living up to their full potential; not having genuine fun; being slaves to this drug and fully believing they need to intoxicate themselves in order to maifest their happiness.

I must admit I find it hard to enjoy some experiences I get to live when I know can’t taste the poison, but I will never be able to break my principles. That’s my curse — an introvert without his medication.

But I learned to let go and just be in the moment. It’s not the easiest of choices, but we must adapt to change somehow. If I go to places where people drink, I understand and just do my thing. I’ve even refused wedding champagne for this matter.

People have a hard time understanding why I take this to such extreme lengths when I don’t have a problem, but I got used to it. I just tell them I don’t drink and I usually don’t have to explain myself further; even though I’d like to.

I believe if you truly want to put your heart into something and make it a mission, you must go all the way. Otherwise, you’re fooling around and leaving lots of potential on the table.

Conclusion

Have fun. Drink resposibly. Don’t go cold turkey if you’re not sure of it.

Dry January is a great initiative and you should definitely try it. You won’t realize you have a problem if you never take a longer break.

At the end of the month, analyze the effort you’ve put into abstaining and you’ll get your answers right away.

And help those around you; lead by example and, maybe, take them with you on this path. You will fail many times, but no one can blame you for trying. It’s the only thing you can do.

You don’t have to go to extreme lengths, but I found this to be my best option, and I don’t regret doing it. Take care of yourself and you’ll take care of others, as well.

Thank you for reading my article!

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This post was previously published on medium.com.

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