#sober #sobercurios #soberlife #boozefree #zeroproof are rapidly rising hashtags in the social-verse and non-alcoholic wines are one of the fastest growing products on the market at the moment. The funny thing is that I never noticed this trend until I found myself choosing sobriety at 46 years old. I believe my story is a typical one that many women experience but no one really talks about until they are on the other side of what I’ll call the “Party Girl Syndrome”. (All photos: SJLGhin 2022)
I had my first drink when I was 8 years old; it was just a sip of my older brother’s beer after a long summer day of yard work. It felt special like he shared a reward or insider’s treat with me. One single sip of beer. I did not like the taste at all, and I think I coughed on the foam and skunky flavor, but alas, that was where my story started. My second taste of alcohol was in 8th grade when my friends and I made a “swamp mix” consisting of a nip of each kind of alcohol in my parent’s dusty liquor cabinet. We mixed it all in an empty hairspray bottle. We thought we had disguised our liquid contraband in a Salon Selectives bottle. We shared this “swamp mix” sitting in a park playground with our pals that night, bored in a small town, too young to go out, and too old to still hang out in the playground. The last thing I remember is thinking I was standing upright and then suddenly laying flat on my back. I woke up the next day back in my parent’s house with no memory of how I got there or what happened after I fell. My blackouts started the very first time I drank alcohol. (All photos: SJLGhin 2022)
That first blackout experience was so unnerving that I didn’t really drink again until I was an adult. Not that I was straight edge, no, no no, I spent my teen years experimenting with all the drugs and honing my persona as a party girl. Raves and night clubs and all that the 90’s had to offer. It didn’t take long for me to figure out that drugs and drug culture were a dead-end street for me, so I quit.
Easy enough. I cleaned up my act and got a job in a bar. I felt that since I had quit drugs, I was totally fine and drinking alcohol was completely mainstream and socially acceptable. Thankfully, I didn’t make enough money at the bar to drink often when I wasn’t working. But the issue was that it was all free-pour free-drinks when I was working. Every shift was another booze-filled rager followed by after-hours dodgy booze-can where the drinks flowed well past legal bar hours. This was a very liquid and lubricated year and a half period on my life, of which I do not remember much. This was my first foray into binge drinking. (All photos: SJLGhin 2022)
Eventually, I went to college, got married, and started my career in earnest, so drinking went on the back burner. That being said when there was an occasion to drink, like a birthday party or a night out with friends, I had no off-switch. Once I consumed more than 2 drinks, it seemed like a key was unlocked in my brain and I would drink everything in sight until it was either gone or I fell asleep. Much to my partner’s chagrin I did not fall down in public or pass out when I drank, l I just kept going like a whirling dervish until I made it to my bed and passed out. Friends often said, “Oh, you didn’t seem that drunk” but the reality was I was having a whole life out and about in the world that I did not remember. So many conversations, so many parties, shows, movies, and events that I was there in body but I wasn’t there in mind. I reckon it to be a zombie version of myself, you may have had a great chat with me but it wasn’t me, I was in some dream state that would be erased the moment I woke up.
Things really got worse after I was 30 and had a family. By worse I mean, the guilt and shame associated with my drinking was exacerbated by the fact that I had a family who counted on me and a child that looked to me for example. The stress of adulting and parenting and the constant cultural confirmation that “mommies need their wine” provided me the perfect excuse to drink but I felt tremendous guilt. I tried to keep my drinking away from my child, drinking only after they were in bed and only outside of the house with friends. But the fallout of binge drinking meant that I was always operating at half-mast and grumpy on weekends. The biggest challenge with thirtysomething drinking is that it was super socially acceptable. We had all grown up and grown out of dive bars and cheap beer.
We were all about fancy wine and fancy cocktails at stylish and hip bars and restaurants giving the illusion that this was not problem behavior, but rather grown-up and sophisticated fun. I was well known for my over-the-top dinner parties where we imbibed enough alcohol to fill an entire commercial recycling bin with empties. I was lauded for being the “hostess with the mostest” and or the “cool mom” who hadn’t gotten boring. The party girl had grown up! But why did it feel so bad if it was all so socially acceptable and glamorous?
I can’t count how many nights I slept on the bathroom floor in a gorgeous dress and full make-up in my 30s. How glamorous! The real question I ask myself is how did I fool myself into thinking that this wasn’t a problem? I was just having some well-deserved fun, right? I will say that it absolutely helped my denial narrative that all of my friends were doing the exact same thing. It was like some protracted youth experiment and who will be the one to judge when we are all in the same boat? (All photos: SJLGhin 2022)
After a few particularly rough nights and waking up with swollen eyes, wondering what I had said or done this time. I would sheepishly mention to a friend, “Oh, my partner thinks I drink too much” or “Poor him, that he has to deal with me when I’m a train wreck” and not a single friend ever validated this concern. Not a single friend ever said, “Are you concerned about your drinking?” or “Well, do you think you have a problem?”. Every time my friends all said, “pfhhh, you are fine. You barely drink!” I am not assigning fault to my friends because they were really just being good friends and telling me the answers I wanted to hear, specifically that I did not have a problem. More specifically, anyone who said I had a problem was the problem. I tried cutting back occasionally and was successful for short periods of time. But it always crept back up to my usual imbibement and daily drinking became my norm. Always at night and never sneaking it, that was how I convinced myself that I didn’t have a “real” problem.
“Real” alcoholics day drink, pass out, and soil themselves. That wasn’t me, oh no, I had a nice life and had glamorous friends and a great family. That was the line that I walked, knowing that I was in over my head but that I couldn’t possibly be like those drunk people.
But the reality was that I had started making life choices around drinking, building relationships around drinking, and minimizing my drinking. I drank when I was worried, sad, tired, stressed, happy, celebrating, anxious, or grieving; literally drinking became associated with every single emotion I had. I knew I needed to find another way to process and not just drink my way through all of life’s highs and lows. Alcohol had come to occupy a lot of space in my mind, when would I have it, how would I have it, with whom can I have it, how much should I have, how much should I let people see me have? I knew it was a problem but even letting that thought creep in was too much to bear, I wasn’t ready. I still clung to the idea of being a party girl.
For so many people, the pandemic just exacerbated addictions and mental health issues. I was no exception. Without the expectation to ever get dressed or leave the house and the looming existential threat of apocalypse, I just drank. I was over 40 now and I could no longer pretend that alcohol wasn’t consuming way too much of my life energy and my time. I bargained with myself and made deals like no drinking on weekdays or max two drinks per night but really why was it so hard to just not drink? I was in the bargaining phase, I was buying time and dragging out the inevitable. There was no point creating these false parameters because it was so much work to maintain my “rules” that I always slipped right back to where I started.
Then like a strike of lightning, alcohol suddenly made me nauseous and gave me a full-body rash. One day I just became instantly allergic to alcohol. Of course, I assumed it was an anomaly, so I would try the next day drinking some other type of alcohol. Perhaps it’s just wine that is bothering me or maybe it’s hard alcohol? (All photos: SJLGhin 2022)
Some helpful friends suggested I try champagne and maybe that wouldn’t cause the same physical reaction. But alas, after a week of trying I had an “aha” moment laying in bed feeling green after a single rum and coke. “This is my chance”, I said to myself, “this is my chance to get off the ride”. It all became so clear, that this might be my only opportunity to be free of the grip of alcohol. Nothing had ever stopped me before and my body rejecting alcohol seemed like the only way I could pry myself free. It all became so clear, I lay there imagining a life without alcohol, a life without hangovers, a life without drunken crying or fighting, a life without shameful apologies, a life without blackouts and regret. I also imagined a life where I may never enjoy a dinner party again and a life where I had no friends. Alcohol had become so intertwined with socializing and enjoyment that I feared that this new life would be devoid of fun.
No more party girl? Who would I be? Grief set in but so did acceptance and surrender.
I am sober now and I understand why it’s called being sober. There is no more haze or malaise over my mind and my body. I see clearly because I have no damper for my thoughts and experiences. No way to numb or dull or blunt the day and I like it. Life feels very different but exactly how it is meant to feel. It feels real. I can trust my emotions and I can trust my memories and I can trust my experiences.
After the first month of sobriety when my body was truly clear of the biochemicals of alcohol and the imbalance they cause, I began to get this strange but familiar sensation. The sensation of being myself again, I hadn’t been this clear-headed for 30 years. Life has fewer highs and lows now, and guess what, I love it! A sober friend recommended a book that really changed my life called The Naked Mind. It has all the science of alcohol and dependency and its mechanism of action in the body. This book was a game changer because even though I am decidedly sober if I ever feel the pull back into the booze abyss, I just pick up that book and am reminded of alcohol’s effect on my body and mind. As time passes I rarely feel that pull and I really feel free, that is the best way I can put it, just free.
There were a lot of firsts to check off; my first sober vacation, my first sober party, my first sober birthday, my first sober argument. The one major change is how in tune I am with my feelings in each of these scenarios. Life now is so immediate and real that if the moment is boring, guess what it is! I used to use alcohol to band-aid triage a boring party or vacation, but now I do something about it. I make it fun or I change what I’m doing or I leave, that simple. It has come to my attention that alcohol kept me from making constructive life decisions and that I often just tolerate intolerable situations. If your workplace is toxic or you are unsatisfied, don’t just post-work drink and debrief, make a change, or find a new job. If you aren’t jiving with your friends, don’t just drink to make it gel, work on building relationships with people you do genuinely connect with. If you are bored sitting at the resort, don’t just drink to the time away, get up and engage in an activity, do something. (All photos: SJLGhin 2022)
Most importantly if you feel like alcohol has started taking up too much space in your life, ask for help. Don’t be afraid, the grass over here is pretty green. I thought I was hanging up my party girl shoes but it turns out that I don’t need to, now I just know when it’s time to put on flats.
“In closing, if you or someone you know is struggling with alcohol addiction, don’t hesitate to reach out for support. Your nearest local AA chapter can provide valuable guidance and a supportive community to help you on your journey towards a healthier, happier life. Remember, you’re not alone, and there’s strength in seeking help. Here’s to a brighter, sober future!”
