A Sober Month

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January 19, 2015 • Food + Drink, Health, In the Magazine, Social

Words by Shelley Budd

Part social experiment, part detox, Shelley Marie shares her personal diary of giving up the drink for one month. As I walk down the long hallway of the health centre, the sound of my rubber heels is as muted as my attitude. Anyone who’s met me knows I love a drink. I enter a small room and look out though the blinds at the rain falling over the parking lot. This is going to be tough.

The thought of giving up alcohol is a scary one. My initial fear is how my social life will be impacted. Dining out means cocktails and nice bottles of wine, not virgin margaritas for 28 year olds. Alcohol consumption is ingrained in the culture of young urban professionals and binge drinking was a rite of passage in university. But at what point does one stop?

Instead of checking into a rehab facility, I decide to go sober for one month and do my healing from home by entering a program that offers out-patient meetings once a week. The rest is up to me.

I polled my friends and it turns out that only a few really enjoy the feeling of being drunk, but still many consume well over the recommended maximum of two beverages a night. Terms like “messy” and “out of control” come up and many describe the feeling of being sober as a positive one. Why then, do we gather in groups and cross the line just for kicks? I have decided this undertaking, Sober October, will allow me more control over my life and provide a healthier future.

The first days of sobriety:

Step one was going to my first appointment. As the meeting progressed, it became clear that I was not afraid of my social life dwindling – I had good friends that wouldn’t discriminate – it was what I might find out about myself. In the beginning, I notice the benefits of sobriety included increased productivity, happiness (no hangovers or mood swings), glowing skin and a general sense of well-being.

My history with alcohol:

Peach schnapps or a mickey of Smirnoff vodka were my drinks of choice when I first sashayed into the realm of social drinking. It’s not like I was ever totally dependent on substances, but the number of blackouts I had was a little heavy for a woman my age. Call me a risk taker, but I over consumed with feverish gaiety many a time, and this had to stop.

“Do you really feel like you have a problem?” my parents asked as they sipped that delicious grape juice while I determinately enjoyed a cup of tea instead of wine.

I don’t blame anything on my parents, though they did make me question whether I really needed to be doing this experiment. Growing up, they were the friendly type, who would allow me to host parties with small kegs in our backyard.

To tell you the truth, giving up alcohol hasn’t been that difficult. I’ve made up my mind and this approach is solely based on the ability to self-manage. Things like tea then become a fascination – the flavours in a rice green tea verses a green gunpowder. I’ve found things to drink that are just as complex as a Bordeaux rosé.

Beating the Urge:

After talking to my friends, many say they would consider cutting down on their consumption of alcohol for health reasons, but that social situations don’t allow for it. One friend has taken a period of sobriety because she realized drinking made her sad. This, my coach says on our second meeting, is an expected result of drinking. Our serotonin levels are impeached when we drink, giving the next day that grey haze.

Instead of drinking, I recommend trying outdoor activities like skiing, biking or hiking. Attend a group session to talk it out with like-minded people, join an interest group like a film club or, god forbid, take up knitting.

Tips for staying on the wagon:

1) Have a no-mistakes policy and deny yourself the drinks.

2) Prepare with a non-alcoholic choice, like iced tea or a virgin Caesar.

3) Read Kicking the Drink…Easily! by Jason Vale.

4) Plan for the unexpected.

Halfway there:

Two weeks in and I’ve managed to stay in nights without drinking, but it is time to reengage into the real world. When seeing a former “drinking buddy” from university, I choose lunch at a local restaurant where they have a tasty non-alcoholic drinks list.

Entering my third week, the initial buzz of trying something new was still in effect. I had made it through the weekdays by working late, which proved good for my sales numbers, and I was happy to be writing again.

One of the hardest parts of giving up drinking for me is dealing with romantic situations with my boyfriend. We met in a bar and getting bamboozled was a regular activity for us. On one of our dates, he decides to order a beer. All it takes is one spoken request, “I’ll have one too,” and my Sober October would be sullied. It would be fun, but the next day I would be grumpy, groggy and low on serotonin. Plus, I’m driving. This thought stops me. I play out the future movie in my head, as my coach puts it, and I don’t like the scene. So I change the script.

“I’ll stick with water,” I say.

The finish line:

In retrospect, giving up drinking was beneficial all around. I engaged in photography, wrote an article, did more yoga and challenged my restraint. Maybe I will make month-long breaks a habit. Now, when I go back to drinking, I’ll view alcohol as less of a tool and more of a concoction that holds an element of danger, so I’ll have to tow the line.

If you can maintain healthy drinking standards, then there isn’t really a large threat posed to your body or mind. Habits are okay, as long as you are 100 per cent accountable for your behaviour. If you can maintain responsibility and still feel satisfied with your actions, then so what? Cheers!

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