Reflecting on the impact, challenges and enjoyment of life without alcohol.
I think it was when my youngest child asked if we could name our new springer spaniel Thatcher, after Thatchers Cider, that I realised alcohol had become more prominent in my life than I would have liked it to be.
I’m Irish, so alcohol is not only culturally accepted, but almost expected, and I never liked to disappoint. Like most of my mates, I was a social binge drinker in my 20’s and early 30’s with more drinking injuries than I like to (or can) recall. It slowed when kids came along and my social life was less vibrant, but drinking still accompanied birthdays, barbecues, picnics, weddings – pretty much any kind of celebration. And after working hard all week, I felt I deserved a few drinks at the weekend.
However, over the last few years I noticed the impact of even moderate drinking on my life. Increasingly hellish hangovers resulted in weekends written off, and I couldn’t shake the nagging feeling that I wasn’t being the best parent thanks to feeling short-tempered and rough. A family health emergency last year, combined with the start of peri-menopause and all the accompanying hormonal and mood changes, meant that I was ‘drinking sad not happy’, which was more often just a way to deliberately try and change how I was feeling.
After Googling, more than once, “How do I know if I have an issue with alcohol?”, I realised that I wanted to change it up. I needed to reduce the mental load that thinking about and monitoring my alcohol intake had become. I decided to stop entirely and become sober curious. I’m now nine months alcohol free and have never felt better. It turns out I don’t feel as though I’ve given anything up, because I’ve realised alcohol was taking away far more than it ever gave me.
CULTURAL NORMS AND HIDDEN COSTS.
Understanding Alcohol Harm is the theme for this year’s Alcohol Awareness Week (July 1st – 7th). This broad yet crucial theme encourages us to discuss how alcohol impacts various aspects of life: physical and mental wellbeing, relationships, careers, finances, crime and the immense pressure on the NHS, to name a few.
Over the past two decades, government statistics show deaths related to alcohol consumption have risen by 89% in the UK, with a particularly sharp increase since the start of the pandemic. The estimated annual cost to the NHS and wider society has been pegged at around £25 billion a year. Alcohol is linked to over 100 illnesses, including cancer, stroke and dementia, and is responsible for 42% of violent crime.
Yet, despite all this, a strategy to deliver meaningful drug and alcohol reform is often too far down on the agenda, whilst drinking alcohol remains entrenched in our culture. We still joke about going out and getting smashed, or keeling over after a bottomless brunch and proudly wear t-shirts that shout its ‘wine o’clock’. Alcohol advertising is everywhere, and if you aren’t drinking as a Gen X or Millennial person you need to have a good excuse as to why you are being ‘boring’.
However, there are many positive trends emerging. There’s research to show that Gen Z are drinking less, and sales of no- and low-alcohol drinks are increasing. In fact, 20% of the UK population now abstains from alcohol entirely, with many more drinking only occasionally.
But perhaps the fact that so many of these no- and low-alcohol options mimic ‘real’ drinks indicates that we’re still in the early stages of cultural change.
FROM NIGHT OWL TO EARLY BIRD.
I decided to talk about my relationship with alcohol in this blog because my story is so common. It’s easy to fool oneself into thinking addiction is something that happens to other people while polishing off a bottle of wine with dinner on a Wednesday night.
However, working in this sector is a timely reminder. Those experiencing addiction are ordinary people: parents with young children, students, C-suite professionals, retirees… While I might not have been in active addiction, my relationship with alcohol was unhealthy. It was definitely a case of, ‘There but for the grace of God go I.’, and so like all toxic relationships, it was time to go our separate ways.
When I talked to a few of my close friends about living alcohol free, they said, ‘Oh, good idea. I love this for you.’ This made me realise that, despite thinking I was handling everything well, maybe I wasn’t.
So how has my life changed? I’ve transitioned from a night owl to an early bird. Weekends suddenly feel longer, and I’m more likely to meet friends during the day for coffee rather than in the evening, when all roads still seem to lead to the pub. Most importantly, I am a better parent – and a healthier one.
In fact, these days you’re more likely to find me up at the crack of dawn, running or hiking in my home county of Somerset with the family dog. Who, by the way, we named Lenny.
If this article resonates and you’re curious about sober living, Emerging Futures has selected five great apps to help you learn all about behaviour change and stay motivated on your journey. Click here to find out more.
