“When I was calm, I thought giving up was to say goodbye to all the fun and all the brilliance, and it turned out to be the exact opposite. That was when the brilliance began for me. ~ Mary Carr
As an adult, I thought alcohol meant adulthood. As a kid, I was enthusiastic about the dissonance of advertising, commercials, television shows, and movies. We swirled, mixed, rocked, drank, and sniffed delicious drinks that beautiful and sexy people loved.
Alcohol was literally the forbidden fruit, a mystery and abomination that had nothing to do with my parents or anyone in my family. I attributed this to my family’s lack of class and sophistication. Wine, beer and spirits meant pairing with taste and participating in the upper reaches of society. It was beyond us and seemed foreign and fun. I couldn’t wait to give it a try.
I remember the first full beer was around 12:00 or 13:00. I secretly persuaded a couple of Corona in the woods behind my house with my best friend Mimi. It turned my head and we giggled, but it made me feel confused and dirty.
Even as a teenager, alcohol couldn’t prove its glory. The charm I read in Hemingway, Fitzgerald, and Dorothy Parker’s Jazz Age novels never appeared at the desperate high school parties and backseat sessions I had available, so I gave it up and with marijuana. LSD.
Fill the void
Alcohol never played a leading role because I was so busy with my studies while I was in college. When I cleaned my apartment on Friday night and learned how to drink Irish Car Bomb with my friends at a local pub, I drank a few glasses of red wine, which didn’t interfere with my flow.
Alcohol became my beloved friend only after I graduated and started working in the “real” world. And when you look back, you realize that you are drinking only when you are not satisfied or satisfied with your life.
I got my PhD in 2002, the year after September 11, 2001. The US economy was in a downward spiral and had serious doubts about its position in the world. It was hard to be 22 years old, but it was almost impossible to get a bachelor’s degree in history preservation at the age of 22 and try to find a decent job. I landed a paid internship and then did a part-time gig as an archivist assistant to fill the extra time I worked as a paralegal at my friend’s father’s law firm.
After a lifetime of school and four years of college, I couldn’t believe in adult life. The promised freedom was eight hours of desk work a day, when I didn’t have enough money to move out of my parents’ house. .. The fame and career I thought I was waiting for was lacking in potential. My life was nothing but slavery 2.0 — a rebooted version of the monotony from my school age — so I started drinking to escape it.
I remember having to go out in my early twenties. Being alone at home on Friday night was like suicide. I planned and categorized my weekends by Wednesday, gathered friends, bought costumes, and picked up all the possible bars and clubs.
Needed a release. I needed to evoke chaos, comfort, and exhilaration 60 hours away from work. I had to dress up, go out, get drunk, crazy, and go wild so that I could stuff my disappointments in my life from Monday to Friday. Even when I was working in a clothing store on Saturday’s shift, I was still drunk or hangover.
I remember getting drunk and feeling better. It made me feel lively, energetic, magnetic, magical, powerful, fun, charismatic, fearless, cheerful, untouchable, and sexy. On weekdays, he gave me something that I couldn’t convene soberly, but I desperately wanted it.
In retrospect, I found that alcohol gave me a raw version of my own stock solution. What happened after a few drinks was supposed to have happened soberly. I felt like myself.
But years of child abuse and learning from people-please put my real self in the back room, putting others first. Alcohol was the only way I could feel like myself. But I didn’t know that, and I never stopped by three drinks. I stumbled, tweeted, drunk and stopped fainting at 4am.
Alcohol was an escape from life and was someone I didn’t like, but nevertheless I created both.
At the age of 26, I did something radical. I canceled my wedding with a lovely man and decided to leave the United States and travel to Australia. After four years of stable alcoholism, I finally realized that the life I lived in was a prison, not a life.
As soon as I decided to leave, I stopped drinking. I started working hard and started saving money. I had a place to go somewhere and a place to have someone. I wanted the future.
By the time I was 28, I was married, in love, and pregnant with my first child. Happy and healthy, alcohol had no room in my life. I never stayed until my second child was born and realized that my husband was not happy. Then alcohol settled down while I was ignorantly immersed in my mother, wife, homeowner, and business owner who didn’t want to admit she had rebuilt the prison instead of life.
Alcohol saved me during the subsequent divorce. The pain was so bad that I look back and thank you for something that was numb. But two years after my divorce, I realized I was completely free at the age of 38.
It’s finally time to live the life you wanted. I was old enough to know myself and what it takes to be creative, lively and happy. So, on April 1, 2019, I made a list of everything that hasn’t actively contributed to my life. Alcohol was number one on the list.
Two years after giving up alcohol (and all other drugs and addictions), I can easily say that I am very happy and healthy without alcohol in my life. I don’t miss it at all. In fact, more people want to ride the sober trend.
If you think you might want to join me, think of these 10 ways of giving up alcohol that have changed my life better. I hope these reasons are enough to convince you to throw away your drink.
1. I learned how to feel my emotions.
Instead of paralyzing myself, I had to learn how to feel all the senses. This led me to learn how to feel and clear emotions and tackle childhood trauma head-on. Healing my trauma was the best I’ve ever done.
When hiding my true self, I invited alcohol into my life to paralyze the pain in my body, which also allowed me to be a real self without fear. Healing trauma allows you to present your true self to the world.
2. I learned how to play.
Not drinking alcohol leaves more space for you to become a child again. Life becomes a wonderland again, so instead of sitting in a bar and complaining about problems, you can ride a bike, swim on the beach, splash in the pool, run, jump, explore and learn. can. Life without alcohol only invites many of those rare, beautiful, and innocent moments.
3. I lost weight.
Alcohol is pure sugar, people. There is nothing good about it. Bad for your liver, bad for your insulin levels, and bad for your brain. There is more than one good thing. At the age of 40, I’m thinner than when I was in my twenties, who was binging all weekend.
4. Balanced hormones.
As a woman, I can prove that hormone levels are very disturbed. After quitting alcohol, my premenstrual syndrome symptoms improved dramatically. Alcohol is sugar and destroys insulin. It also throws away your cortisol because it interferes with sleep. Studies have also shown that increasing alcohol intake increases your estrogen levels. If you need a balanced hormone, say goodbye to alcohol.
5. I slept well.
Alcohol greatly disrupts REM sleep. Take a few nights off the evening wine to see how well it hits the bag. Alcohol falsely believes that it relaxes us and relieves stress, but it actually has the opposite effect. If you don’t get proper deep sleep, you’ll feel sick.
6. I saved money.
Alcohol is expensive, and you will want more and use it foolishly when you are drunk. Saving money creates the real freedom you seek. Not going to the bar or drinking flashy cocktails is one of the easiest ways to save money.
7. Developed a hobby.
Instead of using alcohol as a hobby, I played tennis, learned sailing, and started side hustle. As a result of not drinking, it became more interesting.
Sadly, quitting alcohol means losing a few friends. It’s easy to see which friends have a hobby of alcohol. But that’s okay. Having real friends and real hobbies is much more rewarding.
8. I am happy
I’m not so stressed, tired, worried, or angry. Alcohol seems to relieve the pain of life for a moment, but the next day it will bite 10 times more. Alcohol is like a health and wellness credit card. You don’t have to pay now, but you have to pay later and you also have to pay interest.
It is such a relief that you do not need alcohol to feel paralyzed or comfortable in a scary situation. My heart is clear and calm, which brings me immense joy and joy.
9. You don’t need alcohol to talk to people.
Instead of running straight for wine at a networking event, I just drink water and have a casual conversation. I am me I also try to ask interesting questions.
Already “So what do you do?” I want to know who you are, what you are about, and I dig around and you I can excavate Let’s look at some interesting facts about. People will be much more attractive and sober.
10. I set an example.
My children have witnessed directly that their mother does not need alcohol. I think they remember when I drank, but I also want them to look calmly.
I do not abuse alcohol and know that they are more likely to experiment with alcohol, but that they know that they can lead a happy and fulfilling life without alcohol I would like to confirm.
Conclusions and disclaimers
I’m not insisting on the abolition of alcohol. I advocate a more responsible expression of alcohol in advertising, movies and movies. Being exposed to such explicit subconscious programming at an early age gave me the belief that alcohol would add something that I felt lacked in my life.
And while I know I used alcohol as a drug to treat my unhealed childhood trauma, it’s more effective to teach children why people use drugs and alcohol. I know that If someone in my teens told me that people were abusing drugs or alcohol to hide their pain, that might have changed everything for me.
I never sought treatment from AA because I believed that alcohol consumption was not irregular or excessive by social standards. In retrospect, this gets in the way of me a lot. I needed help. What I really needed was to heal the trauma faster. It took years to find the right help to heal.
If you consume more than two nights a week and more than two glasses of alcohol, you may have a problem.
If you need alcohol or medicine just to get through, there is a problem.
Drugs and alcohol are the ways we deal with pain. The best advice I can give you is to seek help with the underlying problem and heal why you need to drink. We wish you all the best and hope you find it more interesting, powerful, sober and fun.