Six things I've learnt in six years of sobriety

Source: Unsplash

In March of this year, I celebrated six years of continuous sobriety. That is six whole years of abstinence from alcohol and all other mind-altering substances - unless you include caffeine and Lady Gaga, in which case I am still flagging. Being a binge drinker and coming from a culture which has hyper-normalised excessive alcohol consumption, I initially struggled to envisage an alcohol-free life. However, after a brief period of mourning for my old life, I have been able to fully embrace sobriety and all that its benefits avail.

Here are some things I’ve learned over the last six years of being the only guy who is not drinking at the party. I hope these can help people who are struggling with alcohol themselves or for people who want to help others who are:

 1. Not everyone will understand your journey – and that is fine:

Getting sober is unequivocally the greatest gift I have ever given myself; my life is infinitely better in every department and continues to improve exponentially. Naively, I had expected that making positive changes for my health and wellbeing would be received with unanimous well-wishing – yet this has proven to be gravely erroneous.

Not everyone has understood my decision to quit drinking; I have been told by well-meaning individuals that I was not “that bad” or that I just needed to “cut down.” Whilst these comments came from a place of genuine concern and surprise, they were unhelpful and ill-informed. The furtive nature of my drinking habits had meant that I had managed to confine the most problematic episodes to solo, clandestine affairs. No one knew how much I had been drinking but me, myself and I. Or perhaps the bin man – I had racked up quite the bottle collection.

I have also had some former friends respond in a combative manner or actively avoid me since I got sober. It is not my place to say whether these individuals have drug or alcohol issues, but what is evident is that they certainly were not keen to keep sober company. Perhaps my sobriety has made them uncomfortable about their own drinking habits, or perhaps they perceive me as dull without a bottle in hand. Either way, I have learned that it is none of my business what they do and equally what they think about me; the only person who has to understand my sobriety is me.

2. I no longer need alcohol to propel me through social situations:

Before getting sober, I had used alcohol to quell feelings of unease and anxiety around new or highly stimulating social situations. Work nights out, parties where I did not know many people or loud concerts proved horrifying prospects. Yet after a few drinks, I would loosen up and begin to relinquish my misgivings. This would have been fine and dandy had I been able to moderate my alcohol intake – though I would not be writing this article if I had.

Being tee-total has meant that I have had to attend large events, often surrounded by copious amounts of alcohol, and to my astonishment, I have been able to hold my own in these circles and even have fun. With each experience, I have grown in confidence and now no longer agonise over whether to attend a music festival or go on a date. Alcohol (even in its absence) no longer dictates my life choices.

 3. If I feel uncomfortable in a situation, I can leave:

Whilst I have overwhelmingly had positive experiences whilst attending events in sobriety, there has been a cluster of occasions where I have felt that I should take the self-preservation route and duck out of proceedings early. Situations where much of the company is beyond the level of intoxication pertain to any semblance of a conversation. Or places which have perhaps triggered difficult memories. Or quite simply, at times when my alcohol cravings have resurfaced with a vengeance. Have all meant that I have had to leave events, sometimes swiftly, with little explanation.

I have learned to trust my gut and motto: ‘if it doesn’t feel right, don’t stay all night.’ I used to fret over whether people would be annoyed at me for French-exiting their party or be searching for me afterwards. However, I have learned that I am (indeed) not the centre of the universe, and most people – especially if they are drunk – will not even register my absence. I am also fortunate to have some wonderful friends who understand why I may have to prematurely leave events and fully support me on such occasions.

 4. I do way more sober than I ever did when drinking:

Two-day hangovers, death by duvet and the unquenchable boak are now things of the past to me. Getting sober has meant that not only do I feel markedly better, both physically and mentally, but I am also able to utilise my finite time on this planet in a far more productive manner. I have learned the joys of Sundays: a day I had previously reserved for trying to keep down late-night chips and cheese has become a day of opportunity and productivity.

Not frittering away all my cash on the razz has also meant that I have been able to save money and travel regularly and extensively. I recently returned from a five-day trip to the south of France, which I managed to do for the same amount of money that I used to spend getting off my trolly in a weekend in Paisley. I would have never been able to do this beforehand.

 5. My life is a lot simpler nowadays:

During my first year at university, aged eighteen and barely a burgeoning baby alcoholic, I managed to lose eight mobile phones. I jest not. Eight mobile phones. Amongst my friends, the running joke became: ‘what’s Jonathan’s new telephone number of the month?’ Most people found it funny. I found it irritating. And my parents, well, the less said about that, the better.

It was not only phones that I lost during my bibulous bouts: there were copious amounts of missing keys, wallets, passports, and even a single shoe on one occasion. Oh, and it goes without saying, my dignity, of course.  Waking up and not immediately having to launch into clear-up mode, futilely retracing my trackless steps to mitigate the damage caused by the night before, is a real blessing nowadays.

 6. I can be reliable today:

They say that we are judged on our actions, not our intentions – if it were the other way around, I would certainly have been classed as a far more punctual and productive member of society. Alas, my greatest of intentions were often decimated by king alcohol; plans and promises strewn to the wind the moment we became intertwined in a chemical union. As someone who does not process alcohol like the average Joe or Josephine, I was unable to have a few jars and head home like my friends. A few pints often led to a few nights, and that meant missed engagements, stood-up dates, and a fair share of disgruntled mates.

Having spent a decade displaying everything but dependability, my journey to prove myself worthy of trust has been a slow one. However, with time, my actions finally began to match my intention. Granny’s birthday, friends’ weddings, and even class (though that one can still be a struggle) became opportunities for me to show up and contribute. Nowadays, people even entrust me to babysit their children – much to my incredulity.

Maintaining sobriety remains a daily task and is not without its peaks and troughs, but I would exchange it for nothing else. If that means people think I am dull, that is a small price to pay in exchange for evading a premature death at the hands of alcohol.